he heart, and these tears which
vainly rising to the eyelids, fall back upon the heart as wanting
power to flow. Who, after an absence of many years, on entering the
house where they first inhaled the breath of life, but has been
overpowered by conflicting emotions, as the tide of Memory rolled
in, like a flood, bearing so much upon its bosom, and where so many
associations crowd upon the mind, it is difficult to lend expression
to the ideas.

The interior of the house has not been materially changed, except
the additional ell, which contains a kitchen, pantry, and such like
conveniences for progressing household labor; the kitchen being
transformed into a sitting room, with no change, excepting a new coat
of paint, large windows instead of small, paper instead of bare walls,
and a place for a stove pipe instead of the ample fire place, that
used to shed its cheering light and warmth over the whole room. And
we might almost fancy ourselves at home, were it not that the eyes of
strangers are upon us, and we miss the dear familiar faces that first
taught the infant heart to love.

Here, have we clustered around the knees of a mother and drank rich
instruction from her pious lips, and offered up the morning and the
evening prayer, and lisped our hymn of praise, while she ever strove
to impress the golden rule upon the young and tender minds committed
to her care; and her example was ever that of a consistent Christian.

How vividly comes up before the eye of Memory, the forms of the aged
members of the family; for there were an uncle and two aunts of my
father who were never married, that took him at the early age of two
years, educated him and gave him the homestead for his patrimony; and
at the time of my birth the snow of many winters rested upon their
heads, and the infirmities of age were upon them.

It was their delight to watch our childish sports, listen to our
innocent prattle, and strive to direct our young footsteps in the
paths of virtue. They have passed away like the shadows of a passing
cloud. Almost my first recollections of death are associated with that
of the aged man. He had been sick about four days when we were called
to stand by his bedside and witness his departure. He smiled upon the
dear little brother, mother held in her arms, shook him by the hand,
gave us all a parting glance; the film of death then gathered upon his
eyes, a convulsive shudder ran over his frame, and a deathly paleness
res