The Vermont transcript. [volume] (St. Albans, Vt.) 1864-1870, 1867-11-01
A Literary Wife.
A TALE OF LOVE AND MSS.

save that am little egotistical; every
man IN his heart is, believe, though
some manage not to show it on the
surface; but you shall have the story
II you choose to listen to it.
left college with degree, won
fairly by an ordinary amount of appl-
cation, and with just money enough to
carry me through my professional
studies When | had finished these.
my means were quite exhausted, and
being an orphan, with no family
friends to aid me, | was thrown at once
on my own exertions; but | cared lit
tie for that; / was full of hope, and
not far distant in the future | saw an
emlnence TO which felt sure of attain
ing, when | should command not only
ample means but the respect and adj
miration of the whole community Be
ing thus sanguine and ambitious, |
went at once to New York. modostly
/ believing | could soon make myself a
+ reputation there, in spite of the shoal
OF young aspirants who yearly drift to
that emporium; and there commenced
the practice Of law The consequence
was that instead of attaining to a rep
utatiou, | nearly attained to death by
starvation TO avoid which inconvenient
result, | got a situation as reader in a
magazine Office. This was a pitiable
contrast TO the lofty schemes of my
college days, but considered myself
fortunate 10 get even this; for, some
how or other, nothing l touched pros
/ pered pecuniarily. | couldn't under
stand why; ] thought l had at least
an average amount Of brain, more than
some of my classmates who were max
ing fortunes; | came of a good family.
and was not idle therefore it was and
still is a mystery why at the age OF
thirtyhye | was still in this magazine
Office, having made no further head
way than to be installed as the editor
Of that periodical; which, to quote
from a contemporary, possessed "more
OF an Addlsonian style, Baconian
proiundity Of thought, and a Byronian
Imagination, than any other yet issued
from the press of an upward-soaring
land OF freedom, SO destined to lead
the van in the march Of intellect and
flow Of mind Hem l hope it de-
served this eulogy; for a modest man,
WHO remembered what the magazines
of that day were, need not be quite
overwhelmed by it,
As a render nay duty was to inspect
nil articles offered for insertion, and no
one WHO has not filled that post can
conceive what floods of stupid, crude,
sentimental, iilegible trash ! had to
wade through | used to think every
half wltted nam and woman in the
land had conspired 70 send an article
for insertion in the Literary Star, the
/ brilliant title Of our magazine SO
innumerable were the limping "Son-
nets to the Moon, codes to the
( Spring and horrible Essays" on
/ everything under the sun which found
Their way to my desk, before which
sat twelve mortal hours q day, strug-
Cling to fish out from this sea Of trash
some stray gem of thought, or flower
OF sentiment, alas, too often all in
vain.
Among this mass from time to time,
there appeared choice bit of poetry,
which was really poetry, or a charm
ing little story full of tender thought,
chastely and accurately expressed.
These came from country town in
New England, and were as welcome as
"A draught Of fresh air to q suilocating
man, So much space in the Star was
that month at least provided for 1t
was merely in a business light that
regarded my correspondent first, but
in time began to feel personal in
terest in her. / say her, for i felt
+ pretty confident the writer was wo-
man, though she had sheltered herself
under the dubious signature, Elton
Ellery -and the vigorous thought and
wonderful clearness and terseness of
the style sometimes made me doubt
Bat there was delicacy of touch, and
a nice appreciation of women which a
man rarely shows, and the hand writ
ing was indispntably -eminine. That
point settled, | began to won der
whether She was old or young, plain Or
4 pretty, married or single l dwelt on
every word which could throw any
+ light on her life and character; aud
finally, out of such scanty material, |
created being who became most viz
idly real to me; who haunted me by
day and even in my dreams, exercising
a strange fascination over me. Like
Pygmaion Of old, having created an
image, | admired it, fell in love with
I it, and through this passionate wor-
+ ship kindled it into an intense and
ever increasing vitality. till she became
to me the being who was thenceforth
to sway my destiny. | had lived to be
thlty-fve without finding in real life
woman who had even touched my
fancy, much less my heart, but here
was my affinity, my long sought ideal,
my counterpart. What delicacy she
had, what genius, what depth of emo
/ tion-what exalted ideas of life, and
love, and marriage too, so ex-
actly answering to mine This hal
lucination completely bewitehed me.
No lover ever watched for letters from
his betrothed as / watched for her
missives, nor opened them with more
tremulous eestaoy
If common canca somAtimag Wlls-