I should count my loss a “gain,” you say?
I cannot, I cannot!
Saint Paul might have so truly exemplified the position of earthly misery as opposed to heavenly reward; but, I am powerless to give the deduction a personal application.
You tell me to look above, and have faith in the hope of rejoining her?
She is there, I know—that is, if there be a just God, a heaven, and angels in paradise; but, how can I, sinner as I am and as I have been, dream of climbing up to such a height?
It is an impossibility. I dare not hope for mercy and forgiveness. Why, the very angels would scout me; and she, who was always glad of my approach, would now draw aside the hem of her raiment lest I should touch it and defile her!
Do you know, that, the acutest pang that thrills through my heart, arises from the consciousness, that, while she was here, I was unworthy of her—as I would be doubly so were I now able to take the wings of the morning and reach the uttermost parts of heaven where she dwells.
Learn, O brothers! loving, like myself, hopelessly, unsuccessfully:—learn by me, by my blighted life, my lost present, my vanished hopes of heaven, that, the worst possible use to which you can put the divine image in which you are clothed, is “to go to the devil” for a woman’s sake! Should she be deserving of your affection, as in most cases she will probably be—ten times more than you are of hers—this is one of the most inferior proofs that you can give of it; while, should she be unworthy of it, as may happen, you are a dolt for your pains—to put the motive of action at no higher level.
And O sister women, daughters of England, fair to look upon, tender-hearted, ministering! think, that although no man that ever lived, but one, is perfectly worthy of a pure woman’s love, many an erring brother may be recalled from his down-treading steps to hell, to higher, nobler duties by your influence; as many a soul is damned, both here and hereafter through your default!
Bear with me yet a little longer. I shall soon be done. It is a relief to me thus to unbosom myself. Like Aenone—“while I speak of it, a little while, my heart may wander from its deeper woe.”