Oh, Grief beyond all other griefs, when fate First leaves the young heart lone and desolate In the wide world, without that only tie For which it loved to live or feared to die;
Lorn as the hung-up lute, that ne'er hath spoken Since the sad day its master-chord was broken!
MOORE.
LONELY MAG SMITH! See her as she walks with downcast eyes and heavy heart. It was not always thus. She HAD a loving, trusting heart.
Early deprived of parental guardianship, far removed from relatives, she was left to guide her tiny boat over life's surges alone and inexperi-enced. As she merged into womanhood, unpro-tected, uncherished, uncared for, there fell on her ear the music of love, awakening an intensity of emotion long dormant. It whispered of an ele-vation before unaspired to; of ease and plenty her ****** heart had never dreamed of as hers.
She knew the voice of her charmer, so ravishing, sounded far above her. It seemed like an an-gel's, alluring her upward and onward. She thought she could ascend to him and become an equal. She surrendered to him a priceless gem, which he proudly garnered as a trophy, with those of other victims, and left her to her fate.
The world seemed full of hateful deceivers and crushing arrogance. Conscious that the great bond of union to her former companions was sev-ered, that the disdain of others would be insup-portable, she determined to leave the few friends she possessed, and seek an asylum among strangers.
Her offspring came unwelcomed, and before its nativity numbered weeks, it passed from earth, ascending to a purer and better life.
"God be thanked," ejaculated Mag, as she saw its breathing cease; "no one can taunt HER with my ruin."
Blessed release! may we all respond. How many pure, innocent children not only inherit a wicked heart of their own, claiming life-long scrutiny and restraint, but are heirs also of pa-rental disgrace and calumny, from which only long years of patient endurance in paths of recti-tude can disencumber them.
Mag's new home was soon contaminated by the publicity of her fall; she had a feeling of degradation oppressing her; but she resolved to be circumspect, and try to regain in a measure what she had lost. Then some foul tongue would jest of her shame, and averted looks and cold greetings disheartened her. She saw she could not bury in forgetfulness her misdeed, so she resolved to leave her home and seek another in the place she at first fled from.
Alas, how fearful are we to be first in extend-ing a helping hand to those who stagger in the mires of infamy; to speak the first words of hope and warning to those emerging into the sunlight of morality! Who can tell what numbers, ad-vancing just far enough to hear a cold welcome and join in the reserved converse of professed reformers, disappointed, disheartened, have cho-sen to dwell in unclean places, rather than en-counter these "holier-than-thou" of the great brotherhood of man!
Such was Mag's experience; and disdaining to ask favor or friendship from a sneering world, she resolved to shut herself up in a hovel she had often passed in better days, and which she knew to be untenanted. She vowed to ask no favors of familiar faces; to die neglected and for-gotten before she would be dependent on any.
Removed from the village, she was seldom seen except as upon your introduction, gentle reader, with downcast visage, returning her work to her employer, and thus providing herself with the means of subsistence. In two years many hands craved the same avocation; foreigners who cheapened toil and clamored for a livelihood, competed with her, and she could not thus sus-tain herself. She was now above no drudgery.
Occasionally old acquaintances called to be fa-vored with help of some kind, which she was glad to bestow for the sake of the money it would bring her; but the association with them was such a painful reminder of by-gones, she re-turned to her hut morose and revengeful, re-fusing all offers of a better home than she pos-sessed. Thus she lived for years, hugging her wrongs, but ****** no effort to escape. She had never known plenty, scarcely competency; but the present was beyond comparison with those innocent years when the coronet of virtue was hers.
