only exchanged for others more plausible in appearance || and who has viewed with joy the bud just bursting if not in reality. She at length found that under the into bloom, she only can tell what the bitterness of that disguise of a friend she was nourishing a viper in the grief is which arises from affection slighted, and long bosom of her own family, whose envenomed sting had cherished hopes suddenly destroyed by disobedience already inflicted a deadly wound. A separation was and ingratitude. In vain she looks to the future for deemed absolutely necessary. But how to effect this consolation. There all is dark and gloomy. In the and attain the desired result was a subject of anxious past are buried the fondest hopes of her life; and in solicitude. While she was deliberating, time was the present unmingled bitterness and grief becloud her passing away. And while parental indulgence on sky. She seeks comfort from every side, but in vain, the one hand tempted to delay, maternal duty on until she seeks it from the throne of God. There she the other prompted to immediate action. At length may, and if sought aright, there she will find that peace the final step was taken. Henry T. was informed that which the world can neither give nor take away. he could be accommodated no longer. A letter which he received about the same time from his friends, determined him to return home. And a few days afterward he bade a final adieu to his friends, his instructors, and the village. Edgar's grief and vexation at this event exceeded all bounds. The kindness of his mother and sisters, instead of softening, seemed only to exasperate him; and after a few days of unhappiness and gloom, he formed the desperate resolution already mentioned, with the determination rather of a maniac than of a youth in his sober senses; and urged on by the restless and now ungovernable spirit which had taken possession of his bosom, he left the home of his childhood to seek among strangers that happiness which he had spurned at his own fireside. Such was the grief and such were the feelings of Mrs. Williams in the present circumstances. As she sat in silence with her daughters, she remembered Him who had ever been near to her, and had sustained her in every trial and in every difficulty. To him she committed herself and her children, feeling that he was able to keep that which was committed to him until the final consummation of all things. Cornelia, the youngest daughter, was the first to break the solemn silence of that sad evening. She saw, from her mother's countenance, the struggle that was going on within; and while her own feelings were excited to a very high degree, her affection for her parent led her to conceal them as much as possible. Although she had only reached the tender age of fifteen, yet she possessed the wisdom of a much more advanced period. Her chief happiness seemed to consist in loving her friends and exerting her every faculty for their It would be impossible to attempt an adequate description of the grief which on that sad evening invested the hitherto happy family of Mrs. Williams.comfort and pleasure. Of a naturally ardent temperaThe table, with its snow-white cloth, was spread for the evening meal. But no one felt the least disposition to disturb the general stillness. The clock on the mantle pursued its monotonous course unheeded With this single exception all was silent as the grave. Thoughts too deep for utterance were rapidly passing through the mind of each one, while grief seemed to hold an undisputed sway over the whole. ment, her affections for her friends were of the strongest kind. And when she first ascertained that her brother had gone away, without so much as bidding his friends good-bye-when she felt that they had been separated without giving and receiving the parting caress, that scal of pure and constant affection, she thought she then knew what the bitterness of grief She would have hid her grief in the maternal bosom; but she quickly perceived from the sad countenance and weeping eye, that she knew not the depth of a mother's anguish. Fearing to increase it by a display of her own feelings, she endeavored to hide them in the deep recesses of her own soul. But in vain. was. There is something peculiarly touching in a mother's grief. When she bends in silence over the cold but beautiful form of her first-born-when her fond hopes of the future are all laid in the silent tomb, it often seems as if the strings which bound her to earth were suddenly sundered; and she has but one desire remain-Like the mountain torrent, whose downward course ing-to lay her body by the side of the object of her affections, and to share with it the long, long sleep of death. But she may be comforted-she may be consoled by the thought that her babe, though taken from her embrace, is resting in the bosom of its Savior, and is now rejoicing "High in salvation and the climes of bliss." She may even rejoice under the reflection that although it will never return to her, yet she may go to it, and be re-united to part no more. may be impeded for a time, but whose gathering waters, increasing in strength by every moment's delay, soon surmount every barrier, and rush onward with accelerated force and velocity, so her feelings, acquiring new strength from being pent up in her own bosom, were soon beyond her control; and bursting forth found no repose, until lost in the ocean of parental sympathy. "Mother," she at length exclaimed, "my Sabbath school teacher told us last Sabbath that our blessed Savior knows and feels all our pleasures and all our pains. When we are happy he rejoices with us that he may increase our joy: and when we are distressed he sympathizes with us that he may alleviate our suffering. If he knows our feelings and sympathizes with us, surely But that mother who has been spared the bitterness of bereavement—whose offspring have claimed her waking and her sleeping moments-who has watched the earliest developments of their mental and moral faculties with all the anxiety which a parent can feel," he will assist us." "But, mother," said Mary, the eldest daughter, "he has told us that he will be inquired of to do these things for us. It is only by communion with him that we can realize his sympathy for us." "True, my child," replied her mother, "our divine || hand of that father, who, upon a dying bed, gave him Savior does sympathize with us in every circumstance his parting blessing, bidding him be obedient and dutiof life. He has promised never to leave or forsake us ful to his mother. By the side of his mother sits his if we put all our trust and confidence in him." sister Cornelia, with a tear just bursting from her eye as she thinks of the absent one, while close by the window sits his eldest sister Mary, casting her soft blue eyes down the shady avenue, hoping, by the light of a full moon, to discern the prodigal returning. As the vividness of the scene increases, he hears in gentle whispers the long silent but familiar voice of his father, asking, "What doest thou here, my son?" And as no answer is returned, assuming a severer tone, it exclaims, Such conversation had a most salutary influence in soothing their minds, and leading each to contemplate Him who has promised to be a friend in every time of need. The result may be readily anticipated-it led them to a throne of grace. "Return, poor wanderer, quick return, Such were some of the pictures which an excited imagination presented to his distracted mind. In vain he turned away from them; for at each successive step new scenes arose to awake into action all the finer sensibilities of his heart. O, if there is any thing which resembles man to the pure spirits of heaven, it is his submission to the Divine will, under circumstances of trial and affliction. If And as if to increase the effect, it adds, "Is this fulfilthere is one feature of religion more lovely than anoth-ling my last command, ‘Care for thy mother, boy?'” er, that feature is exhibited in the forgiveness of injuries; and if there is one point in which female piety shines brighter and purer than another, it is when a mother seeks pardon for a disobedient and ungrateful child. Philosophers may produce their examples of nobleness of character, and poets may sing of the illustrious deeds of those who have lived but to benefit their race; but in such a scene the greatest nobleness of human nature becomes allied to the pure, and gentle, and peaceful spirit of heaven, and humanity becomes almost lost amid the bright companionship of kindred spirits of celestial birth. Let us leave for a time this interesting circle, and pursue the wayward steps of him who was the cause of all this sorrow. The body, wearied with physical and mental action, at length sunk to repose; but instead of resting the mind, it only imparted additional means by which to pursue the same course. At last the morn arose, beautiful and serene. Not a single cloud could be seen to obstruct the beauty of the rising light. All nature seemed animated and happy. Edgar arose and walked forth to enjoy the scene. His mind afforded a fine contrast to the calmness and serenity which pervaded all nature. He was undecided as to the course he should pursue. Conflicting emotions kept up a continual warfare in his breast. Reason and the better feelings of his heart bade him return. He longed once more for those smiles which illumined the home of his childhood, and spread their mild and gentle lustre over the fection which had been so violently interrupted and turned aside from its proper course, re-sought its former channel. But a stronger passion now ruled within. Pride and the fear of ridicule bound him as with iron fetters. To return would be to acknowledge openly that he was wrong in the course he had adopted. However much his conscience might approve such a decision, yet an open avowal was more than he was willing to make. And above all, he dreaded being an object of sport for his gay companions. As the curtains of the evening began to be spread around the blue canopy of the sky, inviting all animated being to sweet repose, Edgar Williams began to feel more than before, the baseness of the part he was acting. His excitement of feeling had to some extent subsided; and time brought with it reflection. Sepa-scenes of his youthful days. The stream of filial afrated from ail he held dear-alone-a stranger in the midst of strangers, all combined to force upon him a review of the part he had been acting. He early sought his pillow. But sleep, the bright messenger of heaven, fled far from his couch. In imagination he was once more at his still dear home. His sisters met his return from the studies of the day with their accustomed smile, and a fond mother's look of approbation shone upon him with all the calmness and peace of a sun-set sky. Conscious guilt made him turn from her view as unworthy the affection of so kind a friend. His mind at length settled down upon something The scene changes. The benignant smile, the look of like a definite purpose. Nineteen summers had rolled affection is changed for that of sorrow-silent, but over his head-he had reached a sufficient age to think deep-which expressed but too plainly the deeper an- of doing something for himself-should he return, he guish of the soul. She is seated by the small round might live and die, as his father had done before him, table, which was usually spread after tea for books and in the place in which he was born. Some months prework. The large family Bible lies open before her-vious he had become acquainted with a merchant from that book, hallowed by so many endearing recollections one of the large towns of the west, who had formerly and associations-that book which the father used been connected in business with his father, and who ofwhen he took his little boy upon his knee and instruct-fered him a situation in his establishment if he would go ed him about his Creator. On its sacred page was en- with him to the west. He now determined to accept rolled his name and the day of his birth, written by the the offer; and, as Euripides has very truly said, "the THE RECLAIMED. youthful mind does not love to grieve," so he attempted to bury all his griefs in the bright anticipations of the future. Although conscience uttered her stern voice against such a decision, yet he tried to bribe her with the promise of remitting part of his earnings to his friends at home. 221 was upon the whole successful. But the too ardent desire of becoming rich, soon led him into that whirl of business which generally ends in vexation and disappointment. In the spring of 1836 his business led him to a large and flourishing town in a neighboring state, where he expected to remain some months. Here he became acquainted with many of the first families in the place, and among others that of Mr. James Wellington, a gentleman of considerable wealth and influence. Mr. W.'s family consisted of himself, wife, and an only daughter, Eugenia, a young lady of about 18. They had had several other children. But death had borne one and another from their embrace to the world of spirits, leaving only this one as a comfort for their de He now lost no time in carrying his resolution into effect, but immediately started in pursuit of the phantom which he vainly endeavored to clasp to his breast. To a cultivated mind the works of nature afford an inexhaustible store-house of pleasure and instruction. The different aspects which she assumes, as seen from different points, afford an almost endless variety, which please, but never cloy. To Edgar, who had known but little of the world beyond his native place, so long a journey could not be otherwise than replete with in-clining years. From this fact it may easily be anticiterest. The new objects which continually presented themselves to his attention, filled his mind with delight. Now a majestic river, surmounted by lofty banks, presents itself to his admiring gaze-a delightful plain, large and fertile farms, scattered villages, and occasionally mountain scenery, resembling that of his native hills, came in to diversify the landscape. Almost before he was aware, and much before he desired it, he arrived at the place of his destination. He was kindly received by the former friend of his father, who redeemed his pledge of admitting him as a clerk in his store. Edgar's whole life had been spent among books, or the domestic employment of the family; and he knew but little of the duties before him. But that quickness of perception and diligence which had given him a high stand among his school-fellows in the academy, soon made him acquainted with the duties in which he was to be engaged. A year passed rapidly and pleasantly by. Near its close he had written to his mother, informing her where he was and in what employed, and transmitting a check for $100. To this he received no answer. From what reason he knew not. But a guilty conscience told him || he deserved to be cast off for ever from those whom he had forsaken. From this point a gloom seemed to settle upon his countenance. His spirits were depressed, and his whole deportment indicated that something rested heavily upon his mind. He endeavored to dissipate these gloomy feelings by going into the society of the gay and volatile, and sought ease from the reproaches of conscience amid the scenes of mirth. Here he was solicited to partake of the exhilerating cup, and drown the cares of life in its sparkling contents. But to this he had the deepest aversion. The example of the Rechabites of old had been deeply impressed upon his mind by his father, and had made an impression never to be eradicated. He had long since resolved not to touch it himself, and to discountenance its use among his friends. The influence of the melancholy feelings which he cherished, perhaps more than any thing else, led him to abandon his situation as clerk, and engage in the speculating plans which at that time filled every aspirant after wealth. At first he acted with great caution and pated that she was exceedingly dear to both. Every desire of her heart was gratified as soon as made known. But with all these temptations surrounding her she was a consistent Christian. Her mother had been taught, by her many afflictions, the vanity and transitoriness of all things below the sky; and with maternal fondness and constancy she endeavored to impress the same truths upon the tender mind of her daughter. Nor were her efforts unattended with success. She saw her daughter growing up in the fear of God, a dutiful and pious girl. This family Edgar was very fond of visiting. In the society of the parents he took great pleasure; for they were persons of refinement and cultivation. But in that of Eugenia, he forgot himself and every thing save the being before him and his sister Cornelia. Although nearly three years had elapsed since his unnatural separation from his friends, during which time he had heard nothing from them, yet when he saw the fair form of Eugenia his thoughts would insensibly wander back to the hills of his native place, and gaze once more upon her who had been the almost constant companion of his earliest recollections. In the family of Mr. W. he was respected and even beloved. His talents were highly appreciated, and his company always welcome. But it was not long before he perceived, or thought he perceived, a half pensive expression beginning to rest upon the fair brow of Eugenia. As the evening breeze sometimes disturbed the dark ringlets which shaded her temples, he could occasionally discover a paleness which caused a singular and inexpressible feeling of no pleasurable character to arise in his breast. One evening as they were sitting together alone, admiring the beauties of a fine sun-set, Edgar ventured to suggest a somewhat different subject for their mutual reflection. As he changed the subject of conversation, he perceived a slight trembling pass over the frame of his companion. He almost shuddered. He feared to go farther. He dared not stop there, and leave her in doubt as to his intentions. A long silence ensued. At length he resumed the conversation, and opened to her fully his views and feelings. As the subject was one which required reflection, he told her that his business would call him away for a week, or perhaps more. At the end of that time he should like to know her decision. In early life, Edgar Williams had formed a romantic idea of a sailor's life. He had often enjoyed a sail on Now came the trial of Eugenia's faith. She really the smooth waters of his native village, and had picfelt a strong attachment to Edgar. She loved without tured to himself the great pleasure which those must knowing why. But she remembered the exhortation enjoy who live on the bosom of the mighty deep. of the Bible, "Be not unequally yoked together with But now he looked at it with far different feelings. He unbelievers." She knew that he made no pretensions had been disappointed, and among the waves of the to a profession of religion; yet she secretly hoped that ocean he now resolved to bury, if possible, all recollecafter all he might be a true, although secret follower of tion of the past. In pursuance of this resolution, he the Redeemer. In this state of doubt she did what a hastily settled his business, departed for New York, prudent child would do-submit the whole to the ad-engaged himself on a coasting vessel, and was soon on vice and counsel of her parents. The mother freely the bosom of the Atlantic. expressed her views of the danger to which her religious feelings would be exposed. "If at any time, my daughter," said she, "you should need counsel or advice on any point of Christian duty, you cannot go to him-he would be a stranger to your feelings he could not sympathize with your joys or alleviate your distresses. And although the unbelieving husband is sometimes converted through the instrumentality of a believing wife, it often happens that the active piety of the wife suffers severely from such a union." To this her father assented, and added that he had other objections. Although Mr. Williams was a young man of talent, and a very pleasant companion for a short time, yet he was not the person whom he should select as a suitable companion for his daughter. There was a lightness about his manner which always seemed to him to be assumed. Perhaps he was doing him injustice in the thought; but he could not but think, at times, that all things were not as they appeared to be. Eugenia listened in silence. How to act she knew not. Her convictions of duty and the advice of her parents were on one side, and her own inclinations on the other. The struggle was short but severe. Her sense of duty prevailed. The only difficulty now was to communicate the result to Mr. Williams. That delicate task her father assumed. The appointed time arrived. Edgar, full of anxiety, repaired to her residence to receive that intelligence which, as he then thought, was to be the certain index of his future happiness or misery. It was a dark night of October. For four days and nights a continued storm had beat upon their little bark, threatening at every moment to bury its hapless crew beneath the foaming billows. Exhausted with continued watching, their reckoning lost, and provisions nearly consumed, little hope remained of ever again reaching port in safety. Distant friends and relatives came up before their minds. The sins of a life-time rushed quickly before their mental vision; and death and eternity seemed present realities. As morning began to dawn all were horror-stricken at the sight which the day revealed. Just before them was a bold and rocky shore, against which the gale was furiously driving them. The awful sound of the waves dashing and breaking upon the rocks, the howling storm, and the prospect of a dreadful death, filled the stoutest heart with dismay. But ere they had time to reflect, they were mounting the wave which bore them to the cliffs. A moment more and the vessel was a wreck, and the souls of many were in eternity. These scenes of distress called together in a body the neighboring inhabitants to aid the surviving sufferers. High on the beach may be seen a company of individuals gathering around the apparently lifeless body of some unfortunate sailor. Soon, however, signs of life are discovered. A female advances hesitatingly as if anxious to assist, yet held back by some unseen power. She approaches nearer-a loud shrick bursts upon the ear of the multitude, and Cornelia Williams sinks by the side of a long lost brother, wrecked upon the rocks of his native village. Cornelia soon recovered, and He stood alone. Eleven o'clock passed unheeded. had her brother conveyed to the nearest house. MedThe feelings which swelled his bosom were unuttera-ical aid was immediately in attendance, and she quickly ble. He raised his eyes to heaven. They rested on dispatched a messenger to announce the sad news at a particular star, which brought home and friends to home. But swifter feet had preceded. A few mohis memory with the vividness of reality. He remem-ments sufficed to bring them to the scene of suffering. bered, when quite small, gazing at the same bright star It would be impossible to describe the feelings of his with his sisters, and in the simplicity of childhood asking his mother if the stars did not give light to the angels as they fled from heaven to earth. Home, with all the associations of earlier days, rushed wildly through his brain. He thought his friends had cast him off. The beloved of his heart had rejected his suit, and what had he now to care for? The future seemed a dreary wilderness-the past but a dream of sorrow. He has tily conceived that all mankind hated him, and he resolved, in bitter anguish, to forsake them all. friends at that moment. The mother gazed with trembling, and with that love which none but a mother can know. The sisters forgot the wanderer as they viewed the form of their long lost brother. There he lay, unconscious of all around him, a son and a brother, sevenfold dearer than ever. For two weeks Edgar recognized no one. His thoughts dwelt upon the past, as was evident from the broken expressions which fell from his lips. Remorse seemed to take hold upon him, and preyed undisturbed upon his conscience. At the end of two weeks re- || pleasure of his sister was complete. But an occasional turning reason began to exhibit itself. It would be sigh told that her mother's thoughts lingered upon the impossible to describe the scene which followed a re-scenes she had left. Two weeks passed by before they turning consciousness of his true situation. The re-arrived at the place of their destination. The setting cognition of his mother and sisters brought him once sun was just gilding the spires of the numerous churchmore to the verge of the tomb. As he slowly recov-es and roofs of some of the higher buildings on Saturered, it was evident that he was changed. In a word, day evening as they entered the city. he was now a heart-broken penitent. As he narrated On the following morning Edgar conducted his mothto his mother the transactions of the last four years, sor-er and sister to a place of worship which he had visited row and shame drew forth the tear of penitence, while the mother wept to receive to her embrace the returning prodigal. As his vigor returned, he resolved to consecrate himself to that Being who had watched over him in all his steps. He could rejoice that disappointment had been his lot, as it had been the means of bringing him to a knowledge of his true character. He could exclaim, "Before I was afflicted I went astray; but now I keep thy word." He felt it his duty to connect himself with the people of God; and at the first opportunity he solemnly and publicly consecrated himself to God. For the first time they were permitted to sit together at the table of the Redeemer, "And dwell in that happiest place→ The place of his people's abode; And hang on a crucified God." on a former occasion. It was the Protestant Episcopal Church. As they entered, the full-toned organ ushered in the solemn services. It was the communion Sabbath, and the sermon was appropriate to the occasion. Before entering upon the commemoration of a Savior's love, the usual invitation was given to all professors who might be present to participate. Edgar rejoiced at this opportunity of uniting with the people of God, although called by a different name from himself, in this delightful service. His thoughts reverted to the scenes of his past life, and then to the transactions of Calvary. His heart held communion with God. But a sudden change came over his feelings. As he arose from the altar to return to his seat his eye rested on the face of Eugenia Wellington. Unconscious of each |other's presence, they had been kneeling side by side to receive the emblems of a Savior's suffering love. A meeting at such a place, and under such circumstances, Edgar represented to his mother in glowing lan- changed the course of his thoughts. How she came guage the present and prospective greatness of the to be in this place he knew not. Her home was far west. He described its soil, its climate, its people, and distant. He had parted from her expecting to see her its institutions, and frequently expressed the desire of no more. In vain did he try to check his meditations, returning thither. There was a spot where he thought because it was the Sabbath day. In vain did he enhe would like to reside. But a few years had elapsed deavor to recall the solemn transactions in which he since it was the abode of savage men. Now a city had had just been engaged. As soon as the benediction arisen to prove the power of intelligence over igno- was pronounced, he hastily looked around to see where rance, and enterprise over slothfulness or misguided she was. His eye followed her. As he walked slowly effort. There literature and religion, in sweet concord through the aisle, he perceived that she lingered. They reached forth their blessings to every one who was wil-met in the vestibule, and such a meeting! They ling to receive them. It was long before Edgar's moth-seemed intuitively to apprehend that their feelings were er could enter into his feelings. Here were the home reciprocal. As they all walked away together, Eugeof her childhood and the graves of her friends. Be- nia informed Edgar that her parents had removed to neath a willow, in a corner of the village buryingground, rested the remains of her husband. Yet she felt that the wishes of the living should be considered, and if possible complied with. Some months, however, elapsed before she could consent to leave for ever the graves of her ancestors. During Edgar's absence his eldest sister had been married to a young merchant of the place, who was now engaged in a prosperous business, and therefore deemed it imprudent at present to make any change of location. It was a lovely morning about the middle of May, when Edgar, with his mother and sister Cornelia, bade adieu to the village, and were on the way towards their future residence. The course was the same that Edgar took more than five years before. But how different now were his feelings. The scenery was the same, and he still viewed it with the greater admiration, as his friends sympathized with him in his feelings. The this place about two months before. But why need we linger? Suffice it to say that, inasmuch as the great objection to their union was now removed, the parents no longer refused their assent. After a few months delay they were united in the bands of matrimony; and to this day continue a happy couple, walking in the fear of God and striving to maintain a conscience void of offense towards God and towards men. THE CURSE. THAT perfect happiness which reigned |