The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1868-05-13

9ratlheu, ana mucn lilic VII" ie'C f'U NY
disposal. Unfortunately for me, then
knew but little of tho suffering of the
poor around me, and was quite satisfied
that in the numerous subscription lists
Mr. Wathall's name was always opposite
prnceIy sum. 1t had never occurred
to me TO do anything myself tor them, or
much of my spare time could have been
spent in allevialing the sorrows OF those
around me.
After five years of welded life, during
which time faithfully kept my promise.
nude at the altar. 10 be Il faithful wife,
Mr.. Wallhal died-calmly, trustingly
looking to Il life hereafter OF peace and
JOY; and | was again tree-irce, and the
posscSsor OF all that wealth could give.
NV sorrow at the death OF my husband
was deep and sincere. My mother had
died during my married life; ct my father
had no recollection whatever, and l was
left now with no protector in the wide
wo.ld-young and wealthy, and sur
rounded by flattcrers and admirers.
'.Tidings of Eugene We're worse and
worse. He had become perfectly reck-
less, and now. in the last stage OF rapid
decliue, was dragging ont his last days in
poverty, Indebtedness, and loneliness.
His wants | could relieve by means of my
wealth, and did so through the medium
of friend but ah, What could | do to
prepare the soul for the home in eternity,
to which it was so rapidly hastenng?
But God was merciful, and before the last
came words of comfort had been gladly
listened to, and the weary heart longed
Tor everlasting rest.
"One morning the clergyman who had
been so faithful and untiring in his care
of the suffering invalid, called on me. and
begged that if it wcro possible would
accompany him on visit to Eugene Ben
ton, who had told him of our early love,
and expressed a longing desire once more
to sec me befnre the days of his earthly
pilgrimage should end.
.Of that sad interview, Nellie, cannot
speak. Although so cIlanged-so wan
and pae-[ should have recognized any
where Eugcnc-hc who had once been so
inexpre>sibly dear to me, and now was
dearer still. Call it inia,uation or what
YOU like, but wnen again beheld him the
old love came ls strong as ever in the
days of old and as sat and listened to
his words of pardon for the past, and
counsel for the future. l pledged myself
that while life was granted l would ever
do my utmost in future TO atone Tor the
The sils Of the past.
Had ever received one word Of eX-
planation from Eugene how easily all
conld lave been explained; but when
every attempt on his part was received
ny me as it was, his proud spirit rebclled.
and in the writing Of his note, he made
his last attempt at an explanation.
Eugene Benton sleeps now in our vii.
lage church yard. and his soul is at rest !;
while /, Nellie, am patiently surviving to
do my duty faithfully and humby, trust
ing that tile sorrows of my lonely life,
may il, some measure atone for the way-
wardness and rchcI;ouSneSs OF the past.
Can YOU wonder how that trenblc when
| see others thoughtlcssly treadng the
,aths Which to mo ended in such bitter.
ncss?
Your misunderstanding now may BE-
slight; but remember ny alter years Of
suffering in consequence of one as slight.
II Hugh Emerson comes again to offer
any expana,ion Of his conduct, be just
enough at least 10 listen with an unprc
indeed heart, and it you too. have been
in tanit-.tlo mol let yonr pride prevent an
acknowledgements"