Weekly Trinity journal., 1871-06-24

tc son was, denied me nothing that wealth
could buy, and my youth passed joyously, with
out single shade of grief or disappointment.
while at college formed an attachment for
a beautiful girl but of humble parentage and
slender advantages. She was almost totally de-
hcient in the accomplishments which are consd-
! cred Indispensable in the social circle in which |
moved; but in my eyes her goodness of heart,
sincerity and virtue more than compensated for
any defects of culture, and her affection for me
was so deep and pure that prince might have
been proud of it. For some months | revelled
in the bliss of loving and being loved was
not so blinded by my passion, however, as not
to know that my union with her would be very
dstasteful to my family, and therefore, although
| was resolved to marry her at all hazards, |
dreaded and delayed to inform them of the
truth. An older brother at length, by accident,
discovered my secret, and communicated it to
my parents. My father Immediately took meas
ures to prevent the impending family disgrace,
without consulting me. Having taken care to
get me out of the way for sufficient length of
time he succeeded, by threatening to disown
and disinherit me in case should marry her, in
convincing my afhanced wife that a matrimonial
alliance with her would only insure my ire
| trievable ruin; and by n bribe in satisfying her
parents that their own interests would be best
promoted by preventing the match at all haz-
ards. When returned from the pleasure trip
to Niagara, which my kind father had thought
fully planned for me- found that the parents OF
my betrothed had emigrated to some unknown
and undiscovered locality, and taken her with
them.
To understand my feelings upon making this
discovery, it is necessary for you not only to
have loved, bu: to have hopelessly lost the OBJ
ject of your affection; and your love, too, must
have been of that overmastering kind, of which
| believe few masculine natures are capable, and
|
or so intensely miserable according as it pros
pers or otherwise, | did not however, rave
distractedly, or I" tear II passion to tatters J"
with feverish energy | exhausted every effort to
trace the flight of my beloved, My days were
full of anxiety, and my nights of sleepessness
were intolcrabe; my appetite failed me, and |
became almost walking ghost still uttered
no cry and invited no confidence. At length |
discovered the treachcry which my father had
practiced toward me. | was angry then. How
| refraned from parrcide hardly tell. |
will not attempt to describe the scene which en-
sued when | first encountered him after learn
ing that it was through his agency my darling
had been spirited away out of my reach was
so delrious with rage that | had ailcrward but
a faint recollection of what occurred was
told that cursed my father to his face, and
even offered him personal violence, from which
| was restrained only by the interpositon OF my
mother who Glanced to be close at hand and
whose influence over me was unbounded, so
! long, at least, rs | was in her presence.
My father, when he saw the extent of the mis-
chief he had caused, would gladly have uudone
it ii it had been in his power; but so eiiectualy
had he taken his measures to get the object of
what he considered my foolish passion out of
the way, that even he did not know whittier her
family had gone, and although he made many
efforts in conjunction with me to trace them
all proved futile. They had gone, it seemed
lnh N al and MI ok ha Inht
of my life with them.
4 Accustomed as had all my life been to the
moderate use Of wines and stronger stimulants,
it is no wonder that sought in the cup oblivion
of my sorrow. | drank feariuly, and of the
strongest liquors. In short, | became sot. |
admit that ntoxication was cowardly refuge
to fly to, but what could do ? We are told to
suffer and be strong :; but when one is doomed
to lifetime of suffering, and finds that he has
not strength to endure IL, he must find respite
or die. Now, don't want to die, little happi-
ness as there is left in this world for me-not
that fear death, but that have still hope,
slender though it be, that ono day fortune may
restore the treasure Of which she so ruthessly
depoiled me or that may at length wear out
or burn oct my agony, and become fit to take
my rightful place among men.
At length my father, hoping to benefit me
by change of scene, got me the place of super
cargo of II ship bound for China. | made the
voyage, but the remedy utterly failed to touch
the disease. | reached Macao in worse con
ditou, if possible, than when left Boston. This
was partly owing, have no doubt, to the fact
that my grog on board ship was limited and
had absolutely nothing to divert nay mind from
the grief over which it brooded. My compan-
ions were cheerful, pleasant, obhging-' jolly
good fellows every one but the sight of their
happines only aggravated my misery, and the
pitful consideration they showed me was tor
] tura w he Il wpl fuII in hp nf
paradise, beholding heaven and feeling hell
| Well, our stay at Macao was short. On our
return voyage we stopped at San Francisco, and
then put into execution plan | had formed
while voyaging. left the ship, and sought out
this solitude, where have resided for tie last
five years. Of course informed my family of
my whereabouts, and at certain times they send
me a check for such amount will suffice to
keep me in everything necessary. My mother
writes to me frequently, and once in Il while,
when the mood is on me, reply to her. She is
still hopeful for me, and that makes me hopeful
! for myself.
al have found this solitude, with its OCCASION
al social intervals, the best balm for my wound.
can bear now sometimes, to take off the wrap
pings and look at it with more composure than
would have thought possible when first came
here. But cannot bear ii long. But for the
solace of intoxcaton, | verify believe should
go mad. The people who know me-the few
meet when go down to Weaveryille to get my
checks cashed and purchase supplies-look upon
me as an inveterate drunkard, who has been ex-
lied here to spare shame to my family. am
willing they should think SO. 1t saves me many
impertinent questions, and a great deal of annoy
ance in the shape of we-meant but clumsy and
cruel coincidence. Now, their good fellow,
but pity he drinks, which ought to be disgust
ing to me, at once relieves and amuses me-"
He chuckled little, rolled lazily within reach
of the fire, relghted his pipe, and continued:
"You have observed how hardened have be-
come | can smile and chatter as if were the
most nsensible dog in existence, while all the
time the vultures are tugging at my heartstrings.
The agony is no less severe than formerly, but
have got used to it. am not often obliged to
wear the mask-only when | go to town for