THE DARK DAY. 97
Oh! she was too fair, too rich a boon for me. I should have contented myself with sitting at her feet, and gathering instruction; I should have been content to see her, the only being I had ever seen completely subdue herself. She possessed all the passions of our nature in their fullest extent; but they were subdued and controlled; they never gained one moment's ascendancy. What had she to do with earth? if not, indeed, to show what Heaven is? How often have I sat with her for hours upon yonder rock, that beetles over the channel, and listened to her instruction; studies that were tedious and dry in boyhood, became pastime when directed by her; and languages that would require years of application in schools, were acquired as if by intuition, under her instruction. Nor was it in literature alone that she instructed; she delighted to show the beauty of virtue, and seemed most happy when others were enjoying the benefit of actions resulting from her advice. I remember, one day, as we were sitting upon the margin of the bay, our conversation was directed towards the affections; and, for some reason, I believe now, it was mere curiosity, I attempted to identify the passion with the sentiment of love. I know not now what folly I uttered, but there was a reproof in her instructive reply. “I have told you, “said she, that in Italy, there is a cave, called the Grotto del Cane, from the circumstance that a man may enter it in perfect safety; but there rests upon its shelving floor, a mephitic gas, that is deadly poisonous; this rises but a few inches, and consequently operates only upon such animals as Dogs, who by carrying their heads very low, necessarily inhale the deadly air. It is thus with our passions; in temptations, we must learn to keep above their influence, and we may walk safely amid their snares. But let us once stoop; let us once give way to their power; but once bow down to their dominion, and like the poor animal in the Grotto del Cane, we shall have no strength to rise. '
“But why do I linger in my wretched narrative? Oh! I could occupy years in describing her, by her words and her works; I could live on their recital. She was not like others. I have watched her with jealousy to catch one error of thought, one single aberration from closest female duty; from perfect disinterested devotion to others; she knew no self; her very prayers for her own health were made that it might be useful to others. Could I have found a single cause for complaint, I would not thus have loved a JEWESS though others, who knew not her faith, did love did almost adore her.
“Strange, that I did not suspect, what experience should have taught to all, that if half of the females bred in our chilly humid atmosphere yield to its consumptive influence, one so delicate and a stranger to its effects would soon fall beneath its power. Others saw it, and she felt itfelt it without a fear; but I, fool, absorbed in my dreams of self, knew not till she was stretched upon her last bed, that my dream no not a dream my pure felicity, my waking hours of
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bliss, were passing. I left not her chamber, saving when propriety dictated, nor then, till I was almost dragged forth. I sat in a darkened corner of the room, where I should be no obstruction to attendants. I saw it then death was busy with my hopes; and every day shattered fast and fatally, my unfounded expectation.— There was no murmur from her, not a sighthere was no particular manifestation of religious feeling; she contemplated death without a fear; hers had been a life of piety according to her faith; she had no time to redeem amid the wastings of a death bed; and she sunk slowly, like the setting sun, more and more beautiful as it retires from our sight.
“It was an afternoon of May, she had dismissed with her usual blessing, the children of the family, who, as they retired, left me alone with her; she beckoned me towards her. The dimness had passed from her eyes, and her cheek was tinged with the richest hue. Let me be raised, “said she; I assisted her; the window shutter was thrown open, and we both looked out upon the bay; there was scarcely a ripple upon its bosom, and the quick eddies of the tide were touched by the beams of the setting sun.
“In such a time as this, “said she, “' tis good to give one moment to earth; one expression to a fondness deeply cherished, but rarely uttered. A strange distinctness is in every object before me; even the distant point of yonder beach, from which you dragged me to life, is as visible now to me, as if we were treading on its blanched sands this is death; I have seen its approach with joy for myself but you bear it we shall meet where no prejudice can separate us; where our connexion shall be permanent; less disturbed but not purer than here. Nay, call not the attendant it is right be blest ' she sunk back upon her pillow a few words that I recognized as a part of a Hebrew prayer, trembled from her tongue. I gazed the film was on her eyes, and the ashy paleness had returned to her cheek; there was no respiration to her chest coldness was gathering upon her brow I pressed my lips to her forehead I called tenderly upon her name -but there was no sound, nor motion.
“I remember something of the tears of the family, the clamorous mourning of the children for their best earthly friend I remember my father's expression of grief, and my mother's lamentation. But I lay insensible to every other object.
“After a time, which I had no means of measuring there was a bustle in the family a stirring that awoke me to curiosity. They had come to carry her, to carry Miriam to the grave. I heard the low whispered conversation from my window; I saw the neighbours gathered in groups, summing up those virtues of Miriam that they could appreciate; at length, another movement announced the prayer. You know that solemn, impressive strain of eloquence, which our clergyman pours forth in the house of mourning. I listened with mournful pleasure to it now; never had I met such a collocation of words; the best
