I spent the
darksome hours, as I spent the day, contemplative and seated at the
window. Why was my mind absorbed in thoughts ominous and dreary?
Why did my bosom heave with sighs and my eyes overflow with tears?
Was the tempest that had just passed a signal of the ruin which
impended over me? My soul fondly dwelt upon the images of my
brother and his children; yet they only increased the mournfulness
of my contemplations. The smiles of the charming babes were as
bland as formerly. The same dignity sat on the brow of their
father, and yet I thought of them with anguish. Something
whispered that the happiness we at present enjoyed was set on
mutable foundations. Death must happen to all. Whether our
felicity was to be subverted by it to-morrow, or whether it was
ordained that we should lay down our heads full of years and of
honor, was a question that no human being could solve. At other
times these ideas seldom intruded. I either forbore to reflect
upon the destiny that is reserved for all men, or the reflection
was mixed up with images that disrobed it of terror; but now the
uncertainty of life occurred to me without any of its usual and
alleviating accompaniments.
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