light that which, whether sleeping or waking--by night or by day--for
eight-and-thirty years has seemed by its miserable splendour to scorch my
brain? Wherefore shrink from giving language, simple vocal utterance, to
that burden of anguish which by so long an endurance has lost no atom of its
weight, nor can gain any most surely by the loudest publication? Need there
can be none, after this, to say that the priceless blessing, which I have
left to the final place in this ascending review, was the companion of my
life--my darling and youthful wife. Oh! dovelike woman! fated in an hour the
most defenceless to meet with the ravening vulture,--lamb fallen amongst
wolves,--trembling--fluttering fawn, whose path was inevitably to be crossed
by the bloody tiger;--angel, whose most innocent heart fitted thee for too
early a flight from this impure planet; if indeed it were a necessity that
thou shouldst find no rest for thy footing except amidst thy native heavens,
if indeed to leave what was not worthy of thee were a destiny not to be
evaded--a summons not to be put by,--yet why, why, again and again I
demand--why was it also necessary that this thy departure, so full of wo to
me, should also to thyself be heralded by the pangs of martyrdom? Sainted
love, if, like the ancient children of the Hebrews, like Meshech and
Abednego, thou wert called by divine command, whilst yet almost a child, to
walk, and to walk alone, through the fiery furnace,--wherefore then couldst
not thou, like that Meshech and that Abednego, walk unsinged by the dreadful
torment, and come forth unharmed? Why, if the sacrifice were to be total,
was it necessary to reach it by so dire a struggle? and if the cup, the
bitter cup, of final separation from those that were the light of thy eyes
and the pulse of thy heart might not be put aside,--yet wherefore was it
that thou mightst not drink it up in the natural peace which belongs to a
sinless heart?

But these are murmurings, you will say, rebellious murmurings against
the proclamations of God. Not so: I have long since submitted myself,
resigned myself, nay even reconciled myself, perhaps, to the great wreck
of my life, in so far as it was the will of God, and according to the
weakness of my imperfect nature. But my wrath still rises, like a
towering flame, against all the earthly instruments of this ruin; I am
still at times as unresigned as ever to this tragedy, in so far as it
was the work of human malice.