How prone are we, who know not what it is to want, to forget that the world is full of suffering! We do not sympathize with those who suffer, and are contented to think only of ourselves. If, to be hungry, and naked, and friendless, is to suffer, what must be his condition, whose heart craves for the sympathy of love, and is destitute of those endearing attentions, which refine and elevate the soul?
There is a river, in a much-loved mountain and, whose waters are sometimes brackish and sometimes clear, and which sometimes hastens to the sea singing a plaintive under-song of loveliness. I know not why it is, but it seems to me, that such is the river of my life.
The smiles of woman! Sweet words. How many and beautiful beyond compare are the scenes which they recall to mind, whose charms are heightened by the smiles of a mother, a sister, a companion, or friend! All these, is it my privilege to claim, but yet the whole of my heart is not occupied. Who would wish to live in a world, where the lovely form and tender sympathies of woman were not known? It would be more desolate than the flowerless wilderness. Once, I thought to have toiled for a distinguished name, that I might be able to return a worthy recompense, for the smiles of the maiden whom I loved. I hoped to become affluent, that I might in future years make my wife and children happy, and nourish the light which illumines the fireside circle, which light is the smile of woman. But,—who can tell what shall be on the morrow?
Welcome, thrice welcome, thou blessed night-wind that fannest my feverish brow, and banishes from my heart that pang of agony. Oh! I am a child again,—and bitter, bitter, bitter tears are the only witnesses, that my blood is cold and clotted. Can I endure this suffering? Is it possible, that these are the consequences of unrequited affection? Is it,—there that breeze again! it is a messenger from the bosom of God, and this is the burthen of its mission. “Child of sin and sorrow, thy days of darkness upon the earth are now commencing, and the period arrived, for thy nobler nature to assert its rightful supremacy. Terrible indeed will be the conflict, but fail not to struggle with all thy might for the mastery. If thou yieldest to this world, thy perfect happiness will be lost forever; but if thou conquerest on behalf of eternity, thy bliss will be as endless as its cycle, and more glorious than thy fondest dream.”
Once, I was dreaming only of manhood, and knew not what it was to love. Now, that I can love, there is not a being in the wide world whom I am privileged to love. Love! what is it but another name for jealousy, selfishness, and lust? Aye, this is the conclusion of the whole matter, if one woman that I know is a representative of her sex. But I rejoice in the conviction that here is a Love, which is as pure as the diamond, and lasting as the soul, which but blossoms in this world, bearing its fruit throughout the untold years of the great hereafter. She, who merits and enjoys that love, is the daughter of Heaven, and the hope of the world. If we but prove faithful to her, she will never abandon us in our pilgrimage to Jerusalem.