The Wyandot pioneer. (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1853-1868, 1863-11-27
Seleft Tale.
A WASTED LIFE.
BY EDA MAYyILLE.

A wasted life! Do you know what
is, dear reader? God grant that from e1
perience you never mayl We would no
that even one of earth's children shoul
ever know the utter helplessness, tn
grief, despair and remorse that come
with the thought that the lfe--the Got
given gift Of existence had been mis-
spent; that the long search after happi
ness had been fruitless, and the flowers
they would have plucked proved noisomt
weeds. We would not that in the wiered
nighttime the bitter conviction should
fasten itself upon the soul that better, fal
better, would it have been had the life
thus wasted gone out in the innocenc.
and purity of infancy. Is it Fate.-Des
tiny? No. We have hearts that know
the Right, and did we but follow faith
fully our own convictions, there would
be less. far less Of sorrow.
do not know when first learned that
| was beautiful. From my earliest recol-
lections there is dim remembrance Of a
feeling of superiority over my associates
"a feeling that was not created for the
cares, the tolls, and the annoyances of
life--that | was not to mingle in the
hopes aad loves Of existence, contribu.
ting my share to the general enjoyment;
but that l was being set apart for the
idolatry and worship Of the many. And
as years passed the feeling strengthened.
while the beauty, Of which in my child
hood had been vain, increased, and l
knew that beautiful was too tame word,
for my mirror told me that l was daz-
cling.
Years rolled on leaving no blight in
their track, and although l had passion
ate appreciation Of goodness and virtue,
yet longed only to be courted by those
whom wealth entitled to worldly honor
and distinction. My heart was in socie-
ty-my perceptions in measure blunted
and destroyed; while in my soul there was
no responsive thrill to the love SO often
breathed from the fullness Of true hearts.
Not one of my many followers could
touch the chord giving forth the harmo-
ny pure and sweet that is the life of
woman. Neither was there one whom, in
my pride, l would accept as husband.
My ideas were far above anything that |
would be likely to realize, and so | lived
IN, unsats6ed, unblest, till twenty three
,ears had passed over my head.
Chance threw me in the way Of Howard
oerham. Was it chanceS 1t would ap-
,ear so, and for time new life seemed
.iven me. A new, strange, sweet, thrill
ng sensation unfelt before, swept through
ny being. For time | revelled--cold,
assionless as l had ever seemed--in an
Of bliss; and when one day
e clssped me to his heart and wildly
I'D me Of his love, begging me to be his
life, I could have bowed my head upon
lat faithful breast and been forever hap
y. But Howard was poor--at least lie
as no match for the worshipped BELLE
,e brightest and loveliest of the daugh-
RS of the earth. The position he could
fer was not the one destiny required
q to fill. l could not accept the love
at I felt was my only happiness. Pride
I'D it down, and springing from that
ose embrace l clasped his hand in my
vn, and while tears--almost the first |
er shed-rained over my cheeks, l told ,
m that / could never be his wife-@that
must forget and never seek to see me
ore.
And that was our parting.
A few months later, glstening in jaw :
J, cold and passive, l knelt beside the
ar and pledged myself with lying lips ,
|
love the man beside me--the wealthy, y
ented, Elmont Napier. He could place i
the sphere it had ever been my am ;.
ion to adorn--as his wife l should re-
i've all homage.
l did not love him, yet had been loss !,
ID, less proud and scornful much sor- !.
" might have been saved. For time :
hipk he loved me, like others, he was
trauced in the spell of my beauty but ), i
, pleasure palied--, he could see no love-