Library Collections: Document: Full Text

The sea of feeling, however calm, may be rippled by a breath, swollen by a word, clouded by a look, and lashed into fury by an act. But Liberal Christianity is slow to censure, suspects never, and believes not till evidence look her so full in the face that there be no room for mistake; and even then she teaches rather pity than blame, rather forgives than condemns, and lets compassion cover the errors and faults that Charity cannot hide. Out of heaven, and the Bible, there is nothing so pure as that love which makes us forget ourselves and live unto others. The last time Eve wandered through Eden's bowers of celestial amaranth, the angels, betokening her departure, gave her many flowers, which she twined in. her hair, and wore on her neck, all, save one, a love blossom, which she pressed to her breast, and the approving smile of all the angels quickened its fainting leaves into life, and it took root in her heart; and so, evermore, the children of Eve are inclined to love.

Rochester: July 1st, 1847.

MUCH-LOVED MRS. BUCKLEY, far away: -- My Institution friends thought it presumptuous for me to journey to Rochester alone, and the Superintendent laughed when I told him the angels would take care of me. Their care was needful, too, for I began my journey quite unincumbered with money, ordinarily so essential to the traveller. The GOOD men do should be known; their better deeds often are told. The world has bad notions of itself; it is not a selfish, but an unselfish world -- a kind, a loving, and a forgiving world -- more sunshine than storms, more smiles than frowns or tears. Men oftener love than hate, oftener do good than ill. This is not the best world we are to know; but it is next the best, and only a step lies between. Heaven is near the good, so near that loved ones, who inhabit there, are with us still. Stars unseen hang over us by day; so spirits from beyond the sky hang round our pathway, whispering words kind as heaven, on every breeze that fans our ears. We hear and follow them, but, like Samuel, fancying some Eli is calling.

Wishing to call at Catskill, I went on board the Utica. Your father met me there, with blessings in his heart and hand. "May God preserve and protect you, and in due time return you to us," said he, and departed. The sun went down; the moon and stars, those symbols of love in heaven, were in the sky; the air was calm and inviting, even to "spirits of purity." Those whose eyes are folded have a quicker sense than sight, by which they know and feel when a fixed gaze is on them. Only one lady remained with me in the cabin, at length, with her babe in her arms, she came, and placing her lips close to my ear, as if she thought me deaf, screamed, "Be you blind?" "Certainly," I said, smiling. Watching me a moment longer, she said, in a tone of satisfaction, "Well, I don't judge from your looks you feel very bad about it!" "No," I replied, "grieving never restores its object, so we must learn to bear, and blame not that which we cannot change." Presently a Miss, with a voice like music's self, placed her little hand in mine, saying, "It is delightful out; I know you cannot see the things we are passing, but I will describe them to you." I took her arm, and we were hardly seated on deck when the Captain joined our number, talking familiarly of the beautiful scenery which every where adorns the Hudson; "the proudest stream that journeys to the sea." "Yonder," said he, "is Washington Irving's delightful residence, so buried in shrubs and trees, one can only see the steeple; which has on it a weather-cock taken from the ship in which Major Andre was to have sailed." A gentleman is most eloquent when he has attentive lady listeners; and while we rode over the rippling waters, my thoughts gathered many new and beautiful images; and Memory, the mind's mirror, still treasures daguerreotypes of them all.

My visit in Catskill, with Mrs. Wilson and daughters, at their cottage home, was like a scene in a fairy land. As "distance lends enchantment to the view," so time enhances departed joys. On board the Alida for Albany, blind and alone, among strangers, I began to fear lest Mr. Dawson should not get my note and come for me at the boat. But the angels never fail to do their bidding. Strangers often prove the best of friends. "Lo! I am with you alway!" is not a promise, but a declaration. Mrs. Thomas, her husband and daughter, from New-York, recognizing my baggage-mark, sought me out; and, in their society, the hours went unnumbered by. When we stopped they would have taken me with them to Congress Hall, but the Captain kindly offered, if my friends should not come, to see me safe at his home. All left the saloon, but I had not waited long, when a gentleman with a kindly tread came, saying, "Your friend, Mr. D., is in Michigan, but, if you please, I will see you to his residence." He then secured my baggage, gave me his arm, and we were away, talking so familiarly of life, its changes, books, and places, that I forgot he was a stranger, and thought I had known him always. I knew by his voice he had seen many years, and by his words, as Pinckney says, he had