Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1878-02-12
NEW SERIES, VOL. XIII, NO. 7.

tnough ne had known sorrow, and MS nalr
was silyered over with the iwhiteness of age.
| As he raised his eyes and bowed to Arthur,
he smiled sadly, then went on slowly down
the stream. / had noticed, as he raised his
eyes and rested them on my friends face,
that they woro far>away look, that some-
times belongs to those whose present lives
are a blank, and whose memories are with
the past. / turned to Arthur, and said
70 Feline of that old man. hat is It IN
his life that has weighed SO heavily upon it,
and. if i may say it, unbalanced his mind 2"
"Yes, Albert, you are right" replied
Arthur. "Mr. Grey has known sorrows
crown of sorrow.;' the past, to him, is one
| full of trouble, and those hours of anguish
and suffering dethroned a noble intellect,
and made him for while the inmate of
madhouse. He is now perfectly harmless
and rational leads quiet, lonely, and holy
! life, on yonder mountain, and not far from
this lonely river, upon whose waters he
| spends much of his time in fishing, seldom
leaving his humble home but for that pur~
pose. But when you go to his home he
seems glad to have you come, is ever kind
and pleasant, but always sad for the gloom
that settled on his soul years ago, has never
been entirely removed. 1fJyou would like
to hear his tale of sorrow, l will give il to
whengI sat with him in his lonely home.
e IL had gone to spend the evening with
him, to cheer him if I could. I-found him
sitting beside a small table, before a bright
fire, the only thing that sent ray of cheer
fulness through the gloomy room. he lighted
mis- lamp, and bade me be seated on the ta>
BILE was an open Bible. Near it lay frame
of gold, encirchng one of the fairest faces /
ever saw. feasted my eyes for moment
upon the picture of rare loveliness, and then
| withdrew them, least he should sec me gsz-
| ing upon that which knew he deemed q
Rery-sacred treasure, and the image of ono
whom knew was in some way linked with
his unhappy past He remained resting his
head on his hand in silence for some mo-
ments longer I waited his time to speak
finally he turned his eyes on me, and, as he
wiped tear from his check, said
Arthur, my boy.I am glad you have
come to the old mans homo to night; my
heart is very, very sad. l have been look
ing into the dim and to mo horrid past it
has caused me much pain, but feel that my
heavenly Father has forgiven me for that
dark deed done in my youth. l know that
he has been exceedingly good to me. I have
cast all my load upon him, and he has lifted
me up, and helps me to endure and be
strong. But as a warning to you l will tear
the veil from before the wretched picture of
the past. and tell you the sad story of an old
man s wasted life, and let you sec the shad>
ows of that dark picture. Though for years
reason had no sway with me, and my mind
was as blank, i am sane now. Listen to
mo.
"'I was once happy, like yourself, and
they told me my eyes, like yours, were full
of the light of love, and my step firm, my
bearing manly. 1 was high-spirted, too.
Alas that I should have had so inuch of my
sire's reyengeful spirit l loved she was
one who was indeed lovely to look upon.
Take that picture-look at it, and tell me,
could you behold that fair white brow, and
live in the light of those loving blue eyes,
without giving her that homage and devotion
which that face and pure, womanly nature
demanded? Ah, no! hearts of sterner stuff
than mine or yours were her slaves, and knew
no law but her will.
al loved her too well, and she was to be
mine. Those rosy lips had whispered to me
words full of tender promises that can never
forget, and scaled with the first kiss of love
VOW to 1.-Two for the only, and to we'd me, OF
mover be the wife of any man. All, little
did dream, iu my happiness, how that VOW
would be kept! I was proud of her love,
and felt better for having won that noble,
gentle, trusting heart. She bade me seek
her father, tell him all, ind receive his sanc>
tion to our union and his blessing. | did ns
she said, but it was with heavy heart left
the fathers presence. He was courteous,
but told me that, while he esteemed and
liked me, he had formed other plans for his
daughter's future, and he thought. he knew
best what would render her happy. he con-
sidered US both too young TO bind ourselves
I j 1t l.. A.
er any promises made by her to me as bind
aud my wild devotion for her; he only
smiled in derision, and remained firm. AS
I arose to.Ieave, ho said -
"'Mr. Grey, very much regret that am
forced to say that 1 cannot permit you to
continue your visits to my child absence
will be best for you both till this foolish
dream is over" ~. $3.50
1.-The bot blood rushed through my veins
and into my face. then back again, leaving
me deadly pale with anger; yet for her sake
and the love bore her checked back the
words that almost forced themselves through
my compressed lips. dashed out of the
house without reply to his heartless speech.
l knew not what he said to her, but letter
came, telling me that we could no longer en-
joy those sweet hours together that had been
so full of Joy to us. "Bus will write to you,
dearest, she said, 'Eaud though we may new
er meet again, or not for years, will be true
to you ever" sD
"'I dared not send my letters through the
Office, lest her father should discover our cor
respondcnce, and forbid that too. called
up my servant boy, told him the state of my
affairs. and asked him if he would serve me
faithfully in my need: he promised that
he would, and trusted him. For months