DUKE 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
I 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2015 
 
 https://archive.org/details/breadofheavenhus01pinc 
 
BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 AND 
 
 HUSKS OF SWINE; 
 
 OE, 
 
 •r 
 
 THE CURSE OF JEALOUSY. 
 
 BALTIMOEE: 
 PRINTED BY JOHN Y. SLATER, 
 
 SOUTH & GERMAN STREETS. 
 1874. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by 
 M. E. PINCKARD, 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 
 
Buy this hooJc, dear reader. It is to dry the Widow's tears 
 and stop the Orphan^ s cry. 
 
 "Goawayiuith your booh. We have Orphans enough at 
 home." 
 
 Buy it, Jcind and courteous reader. We never knew those 
 who mahe a hobby of "good works at home,'' who did much 
 at home or abroad. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 iii 
 
TO THE CRITICS. 
 
 EAE Critics, ^"e know it is an unusual thing for a 
 
 writer to forestall your honorable selves, and criticise 
 liis or lier own works. But as there are things new and old 
 to be brought out of the treasury, and as we never care to 
 tread in the usual beaten path of the multitude, therefore 
 we depart from it in this instance, and come to present our 
 humble self before your august presence. 
 
 In thfe Paiges of our book, to which we indirectly allude, 
 there are some good ideas, there are some unique, there are 
 some unusual, and some that may be thought a little out of 
 the way by some. It is your good, sober, honest, righteous 
 judgment we want ; not your carping, cavilling, fault- 
 finding without reason, your harsh and cruel criticisms of 
 many things which you could not perhaps mend yourselves. 
 For we ourself are critical and scrutinizing to an extent 
 you would not look for in one about his or her own works. 
 If you criticise too severely, we can wrap you up in a sheet 
 of irony equal to any you could use. Our sarcasm would 
 not fail to make you feel, be ye stoic or cynic. 
 
 Tliere are some lucid lines in our book, and there are 
 some that seem to show a bemuddled brain at times^ wliich, 
 
 1* V 
 
vi 
 
 TO THE CRITICS-, 
 
 if you are writers yourselves, you know to be altogether 
 unavoidable, unless one had the power, time, and oppor- 
 tunity to throw his pen down every time a cloud over- 
 shadowed him, and wait for the clear dawning and rising 
 of his intellectual sun. 
 
 If, in some of the delineations in the darkest and most 
 sorrowful pages of this work, there is not that euphemism 
 which becomes good taste, we shall thank you from our 
 heart to point it out to us. 
 
 The Author. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 "Mv dreams have boded all too riglit — 
 We part — forever — to-night I 
 I knevr, I knevr it could not last, — 
 
 -'T was bright, 't was heavenly^ but 't is past I 
 
 "Oh I ever thus, from childhood's hour, 
 I've seen mj fondest hopes decay ; 
 I never loved a tree or flower, 
 But 't was the first to fade away. 
 
 "I never nursed a dear gazelle, 
 
 To glad me with its soft, black eye, 
 But when it came to know me well, 
 
 And love me, it was sure to die. - ■ 
 
 " Men's natures wrangle with inferior things, 
 Though great ones are their objects; 
 Trifles light as air are, to the jealous, 
 
 Confirmations strong as proofs of holy writ." 
 
 There is in this wide world an opinion rife that "misery loves 
 company."' — Shaeiespeake. 
 
 THE humble Peri of these pages dissents from this 
 in a general sense. Though sympathv^ sweet sym- 
 pathvj congenial sympathy^ is as refreshing to the weary 
 soul as the dew of heaven on parched plants ; yet, to 
 
 gee others miserable^ and ourselves equally miserable, 
 
 vii 
 
viii 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 without the power to soothe, is, to the truly sensitive, 
 magnanimous soul, an accumulation of sorrow, an agony 
 of horror, too great to be borne without tears, pity, and 
 anguish of heart. Like the Man of sorrows, she would 
 rather suffer alone, than to see others suffer without 
 relief. 
 
INTRODUCTOEY REMARKS. 
 
 TN the follomng pages tliere is mucli delineated of heart 
 sorrows ; and we once thought of giving it a different 
 title from that which now appears at the head of each page. 
 Some few objected, and some liked the title first written ; 
 but none have objected to this, except such as thought it 
 a metaphysical disquisition, which they imagined " The 
 Bread of Heaven and the Husks of Swine " indicated, not 
 knowing how nicely the hero can be represented eating 
 the Husks of Swine when he is wild with fury and pas- 
 sion on account of trifles light as air," and how eating 
 the Bread of Heaven, when in his lucid moments, heaven 
 seems to be on earth to him, and all nature dancing with 
 joy. So great is his apparent happiness, one would think 
 his equanimity would never be disturbed again, not the 
 ripple of a wave would ever ruffle the smooth surface of his 
 mind. But, oh, how delusive and illusive all such appear- 
 ances ! Does not the king of beasts, the lordly lion, have 
 his calm moments? When appetite i5 appeased, and he in 
 repose, then all his ferocious passions are asleep. But are 
 they dead ? Oh, no. Once let him awake from his quieting 
 slumbers, and feel the keen force of his di'eadful, fierce 
 
 is. 
 
X INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 
 
 appetite for food, and woe be to the weaker animal which 
 might chance to be in his way. So with our hero. When in 
 his lair, like the wild beast, he was perfectly calm, and 
 when he awoke with a sense of his dreadful passions all 
 aroused, woe be to the victim who had the temerity to dare 
 oppose him. 
 
 Hence we conclude that we see a great many who eat 
 more of the husks of the swine than the bread of heaven, 
 because unrestrained and unbridled passion seems to be so 
 pleasant to them, while indulging in it. Behold the in- 
 ebriate ! What a delirium of happiness he seems to enjoy. 
 He is the richest man in all the country. 
 
 O passion, blind passion, unbridled passion — passion for 
 spirituous liquors, for vices of every hue and color, and of 
 deepest dye ! how thou hast slain thy thousands and ten 
 thousands ! The sword hath been weak where man's mul- 
 titudinous passions held the mastery. 
 
 And now, dear reader, as every book put forth is, or ought 
 to be, for entertainment or amusement, — and our little 
 book claims to be of the former, — walk with me into some 
 large grove. Imagine a very large party assembled, and, 
 as it is customary to drink toasts before or after the repast, 
 we prefer drinking our toast before partaking of what is 
 set before us. 
 
 There are things new and old before us. Some of the 
 viands seem more of the herb, others of the bitter sort : 
 these may do those good who have had the roses and 
 sweet spices all their lives. A little contrast may do no 
 harm, if it be only to bring to their thoughts the amount 
 
INTRODUCTOEY EEMAEKS. xi 
 
 of bitter herbs wbicli has fallen to the lot of many of the 
 sisterhood of this world, who are as good, or perhaps better, 
 than we, who have had nothing but delicacies and lux- 
 uries, flowery paths and rosy beds. 
 
 And now, seeing we have some variety at our banquet- 
 ing-board, we bow most respectfully to our guests, among 
 whom we see some of all nations, and kindred, and tongues 
 assembled, and drink our toast most cordially : — May you, 
 dear readers, one and all, live long and happy lives, with 
 peace and plenty, being crowned with quiet within all the 
 borders of our beloved land. May the God of the Bible 
 be our God. May we, Phoenix-like, rise from our ashes, 
 stand firm and unconquerable, the citizens of the greatest 
 country in the world. May each and every reader be the 
 better for reading " The Bread of Heaven, and Husks of 
 Swine ; " and inspired with thanks that one of your fellow- 
 beings, at least, determined, by the grace of God, never to 
 be grieved to death, never to be conquered, but to go on 
 conquering and to conquer, through the great power of Him 
 who sat on the white horse, and had power given Him to 
 go " forth conquering and to conquer," till all our foes be 
 made our footstool. " That our sons may be as plants grown 
 up in their youth ; that our daughters may be as corner- 
 stones, polished after the similitude of a palace ; that our 
 gamers Tnay be full, affording all manner of store ; that our 
 sheep may bring forth thousands and ten thousands in our 
 streets ; that our oxen may be strong to labor ; that there 
 be no breaking in nor going out ; that there be no complain- 
 ing in our streets. Happy is that people that is in such a 
 case : yea, happy is that people, whose God is the Lord." 
 
COyiEXTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 Grace CLAIEOE^'E 15 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Ax EyEXY ' . ■ 32 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 Geace"s Maeeiage — The Caaip-Meetixg ... 52 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 The Geeex-Eyed Mo^-^TEE . . . . .72 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 BiETH A2rD Death of Geace's Eiest Child. . . 92 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Teouble about SiixiTH's Peopeety . . . .112 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 MoEE OE Smith's Pal?e Acctsatioxs .... 132 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 TEOrELE? AlrLTIPLY ....... 153 
 
 2 xiu 
 
Xiv CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. PAQB 
 Makeiage of Jerome Smith. ..... 174 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Jerome Smith 194 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 False Accusations of Smith . ' , . . . 213 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 An Unfortunate Camp-Meeting .... 229 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 Mr. Smith and the Preacher 249 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Mrs. Smith's Enemies Rejoice 269 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 Mrs. Smith's Return 286 
 
BEEAD OF HEAYEN, 
 HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 GRACE CLAIBORNE. 
 
 AY some angel guide my hand, and enable me to dip 
 my pen in the ink of heaven, while I bring forth 
 these long pent-up facts — these ghosts of the past! Touch 
 my lips with a live coal from thine altar ; let the ser- 
 aphim fly to me, and inspire me so that my tongue may be 
 as the pen of a ready writer ! Come hither, thou spirit of 
 former days, and let us commune together, and in thy 
 might wake up the power of memory to arraign these 
 deeds of other days, so as to make a just and proper rev- 
 elation of the " Bread of heaven, and husks of swine." 
 
 To write of the acts of mankind has been the custom of 
 all ages of the world. Holy writ abounds with descrip- 
 tions of the conduct of the people of the earth of olden 
 times. Abel, though dead, yet speaketh ; Abraham speaks 
 in his life and faith, so that he has the name of the friend 
 of God entailed as an unalienable right; Moses, as the 
 man who spake face to face with his Maker. 
 
 15 
 
16 
 
 BREAD OF 
 
 HEAVEN, 
 
 Job said, " Oh, that my words were now written ! oh, . 
 that they were printed in a book ! That they were graven 
 with an iron pen and lead in the rock forever ! " 
 
 About forty years ago a gentleman and lady might have 
 been seen wending their solitary way homeward from a 
 camp-meeting which they had attended. It was drawing 
 towards the middle of autumn — about the eighth or ninth 
 of October. Nature had assumed her sombre hue rather 
 prematurely ; the leaves were bearing nearly all the colors 
 of the rainbow, and falling to mother Earth with that 
 gravity which propels all bodies to her level. The beauties 
 of the Indian summer, when the leaves seem to retain 
 nearly all their virgin green, had passed, and all nature 
 began to clothe herself in robes of winter. 
 
 The gentleman was the superior of the lady in age about 
 twenty years, he being about forty, and she about twenty 
 years old. His form was tall and rather slender, his com- 
 plexion fair and almost ruddy, his hair dark and tinged 
 with gray, his eyes clear blue and small, with an under, or 
 rather suspicious leer, unobserved to the casual looker-on ; 
 his face was long, projecting cheek-bones, flat forehead, 
 Grecian nose, with a firm-set chin, and mouth indicating 
 great obstinacy when laboring under preconceived opinions, 
 either right or wrong. When under the influence of his 
 better nature, and laughing with good-humor, or even in 
 repose, his placid countenance could never indicate to 
 angel-like purity that the demon of suspicion found a rest- 
 ing-place in his heart 
 
 The lady was rather tall and slender, with fair com- 
 plexion, auburn hair, hazel eyes, Grecian nose, prominent 
 cheeks, high, intellectual forehead, round chin, and mouth 
 indicating the utmost good-humor and credulity, and snow- 
 white* hands, as though the sun had never shone upon them. 
 Her countenance, when in gladness, bespeaking the vivid. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 17 
 
 lightning-like intelligence, magnanimity and universal love 
 to mankind, blended with no thought of evil. When in 
 sorrow, a sweet, subdued sadness pervaded her whole face, 
 and a reserve and secretiveriess of grief that was sure to be 
 visible to one at all versed in the heart, — a mirror^ per- 
 fectly transparent, and a great tell-tale, whilst she, noble 
 soul, thought all secure and hidden way down in the lowest 
 chambers of her heart. 
 
 This woman was his wife — a bride of two months. Mr. 
 Napoleon Smith, the gentleman, said to his handsome, in- 
 telligent wife, on their return home, some cutting, cruel, 
 unjust words, which we will not repeat just yet. 
 
 Now Mrs. Smith, formerly Miss Grace Claiborne, had 
 been brought up in the most refined parts of the State of 
 , had received a liberal education, and was in posses- 
 sion of every grace and virtue which so highly adorn 
 feminine character, and which is sure to give a passport 
 into polite circles of society. The reverence, respect, and 
 warm love bestowed upon this young disciple of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ would have been grateful to one much older 
 in years than she. She was almost an idol among the 
 serious, the great, the good, and the wise, — an object of 
 respect and esteem and admiration among all classes in 
 her native town and county. Although not reared in 
 the lap of luxury as some, yet a competency for her present 
 wants, and the blessing, the chosen blessing, of " seeking first 
 the kingdom of God and His righteousness, with the belief 
 that all these things shall be added unto you, were hers." It 
 was not then as now, that Mammon, the meanest spirit that 
 infested heaven, who could not so much as walk erect there 
 for beholding the gold (instead of adoring God), had such 
 complete dominion over the hearts and lives of the inhab- 
 itants of this Mammon-cursed world, that modest virtue 
 and merit went unnoticed by. No ; she was honored and 
 2* B 
 
18 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 respected, and held up to the view of many as an example 
 worthy of imitation. Mothers were wont to tell their 
 daughters not to do thus and so when Grace Claiborne was 
 about. Classmates were heard to say, "There is but one 
 Christian in school, and that is Grace Claiborne." Church 
 members would even say to her own mother, " Grace is an 
 example to her own father and mother ; " and she was the 
 first to confess and own Christ in her own family. Al- 
 though happy in her father's house, in the society of her 
 excellent mother and three sisters, yet, as her father was at 
 times a worshipper of Bacchus, this one thing was a grief 
 to her, as he by this means spent much money that might 
 have been infinitely better bestowed upon his wife and four 
 lovely daughters. This circumstance, more than anything 
 else, together with her innate desire for independence, and 
 reliance on her own powers and ability, had caused her to 
 go forth in quest of employment as a teacher in the acad- 
 emy of — — , some hundred miles distant from her native 
 town. To this situation she had been elected by the 
 unanimous voice of the Board of Trustees of that place ; 
 and hither she had been brought by a relative of her 
 father — a cousin, who seemed to manifest a great interest 
 in her welfare. 
 
 Almost universal applause, love, and esteem had followed 
 her up to this time for her many virtues, sterling qualities, 
 and, not the least among them, her deep and ardent piety. 
 Although her father was occasionally given to inebriation, 
 yet she had at an early age, as before stated, connected her- 
 self with that branch of Christ's Church called Methodist ; 
 and had not only done this, but showed by her every-day 
 walk and conversation, that she considered her home not on 
 earth, but in heaven. At this new place, to which she had 
 been conveyed by her cousin, Mr. Evans, the same popular 
 favor was attendant on her as heretofore. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 19 
 
 Having never had a brother, her young and ardent feel- 
 ings, heightened by her strong Christian affections, mixed 
 with great gratitude, soon ran out to this cousin in most 
 devoted sisterly love, whom she looked upon in the light of 
 a most exalted and noble brother. For how could she, noble 
 herself, behold him take such interest in her welfare, with- 
 out returning it at least in gratitude and prayers for his 
 everlasting happiness ? She never had possessed a brother ; 
 she now had one, and the very thought was exhilarating, 
 and was a sense of protection to her in her lonely wander- 
 ings from her mother and sisters, to whom she was deeply 
 devoted. The sentiment, that man does not act without 
 interested friendship, had no place nor thought in her un- 
 sophisticated mind. 
 
 He was a young widower, in his widower's garb or sign 
 of sorrow. He seemed to have been ardently attached to 
 his lost wife. Previous to her going to this new place, Grace 
 had attended school some ten months in a small town m 
 the county adjoining the one in which she had been 
 brought up. To this little town her cousin Evans had 
 gone for her. They seemed to know each other by instinct 
 on his arrival, having never met before, but corresponded 
 by letter. 
 
 " Cousin Grace," said he, " I believe every one is in a stir 
 about your leaving. As soon as I arrived at the hotel, Mr. 
 T asked me if I had not come for Miss Claiborne ? " 
 
 Here she had attended her scholastic duties with most 
 untiring assiduity, had completed her course of studies, and 
 gained for herself many laurels of renown, unperishable as 
 time in the memories of the past — had conducted herself so 
 as to gain the esteem of all the good, and had many warm 
 friends. 
 
 And among them, not the least, was her almost adored 
 teacher, Mrs. A S , whose celebrity as an instructress 
 
20 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 followed her wherever she went ; for truly she was a noble 
 and exalted woman, and gave Miss Grace Claiborne, at 
 her departure from her school, high testimonials of her 
 regard in commending her to the Board of Trustees as one 
 of her most beloved pupils, possessed of an amiable disposi- 
 tion, and every other quality requisite for a teacher of the 
 feminine mind. 
 
 Evans arrived at the place on a Saturday afternoon. 
 Miss Claiborne could not think of setting out on a journey 
 the next day, being the holy Sabbath day. So, by the 
 united voice of the household where she dwelt, they all 
 attended a quarterly meeting that day, distant some ten or 
 twelve miles. 
 
 Miss Claiborne thought Evans appeared rather melan- 
 choly, as well he might, when he had so recently buried 
 a lovely wife. She endeavored to cheer him. He was 
 dreamily hanging his whip outside the carriage in which 
 they rode, and looking at it musingly. 
 
 " Are you fishing ? " said she, playfully. 
 
 He laughed cheerily ; the idea amused him, and his gloom 
 in a measure passed away. And from that time their con- 
 versation was more lively. 
 
 That night (Sabbath night) the head of the family, at 
 whose house she had boarded during her stay in that town, 
 came home : she called him her father - cousin, being an 
 own cousin to her father on his mother's side. Evans ex- 
 pressed himself to be well pleased with this gentleman and 
 
 his wife. Mr. A was one of that kind of men in 
 
 whom one can have all confidence, and the more you have 
 dealings with, the better you like them, and the more im- 
 plicit faith can be reposed in their veracity and honesty. 
 He was a devoted Christian and an honest man ; the father 
 of a lovely family of children, and the husband of an excel- 
 lent wife. He had good servants, and plenty of the good 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 21 
 
 things of life around him, and was one that could afford to 
 be hospitable, and who delighted to be so. His house was 
 a home for the servants of God, while he was good to all 
 who were in need — a noble specimen of manhood in every 
 respect. 
 
 Next morning, being Monday, Evans and Miss Claiborne 
 set out on their journey, and bade the dear teacher and all 
 her friends farewell. The father-cousin in particular seemed 
 to regret, the loss of his affectionate cousin, as did also his 
 wife, to whom Miss Claiborne Avas much attached. 
 
 " Cousin Grace," said she, " I think you can get a hus- 
 band as soon as you will say the word." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Grace. " Cousin iST , I never thought 
 
 of such a thing." 
 
 " Mr. Evans," said Mrs. A S , the kind teacher, 
 
 "Miss Grace is subject to despondency sometimes; you 
 must cheer her up, and not let hgr spirits droop." 
 
 The father-cousin imprinted the fatherly kiss on her fair 
 cheeks, and so did his wife, and said : 
 
 " Take care of Cousin Grace, for we all think a great 
 deal of her." 
 
 So they bade adieu to the kindly people of S , and 
 
 sped on their way. 
 
 About two miles distant from the village, as they were 
 crossing a little branch, Evans exclaimed : 
 
 " Well, Cousin Grace, I am glad of one thing." 
 
 " What is that ? " said she. 
 
 "That I have brought you off untrammelled," he re- 
 plied. 
 
 " You are not so sure of that," she answered. 
 
 For she had left loving hearts behind, to whom her grati- 
 tude was so great for their affectionate conduct towards her, 
 that we do not think she knew how to define her own feel- 
 ings. With regard to love concerning marriage, we do not 
 
22 
 
 BREAD OP HEAVEN, 
 
 think slie liad any thought at that time. She regarded 
 them all particularly as dear friends, and loved none spe- 
 cially. And why she should have given the evasive answer 
 above we cannot tell, unless it were to guard her too fond 
 and susceptible heart against any new approach on its fine- 
 toned feelings. Certain it is that she did love her cousin. 
 But she thought his dear wife too recently buried, to 
 speak of love to another; and mayhap he had no such 
 thought, either. Coquetry she was incapable of, hence we 
 cannot define this case. It was ever painful to her kind 
 heart to be addressed by any ; for, no matter how unpleas- 
 ant the person or persons might be, she thought it her 
 bounden duty to be polite to all. This we think the only 
 true course for every lady, who respects herself, to pursue. 
 
 And no matter how much those vain fellows may pique 
 themselves upon the false idea that every lady or young 
 girl, who may treat them with kindness and courtesy, is in 
 love with them, yet it should not hinder or deter from this 
 course being pursued by all ladies ; for these silly ones will 
 have ample opportunity to find out their mistake, notwith- 
 standing all their boastings or sayings on the subject. 
 True, it is painful for a lady to have it said she loves 
 when she does not think of it ; yet, as no true gentleman 
 will be thus presumptuous and hasty in conclusions, we can 
 very well dispense with the sayings of fools and coxcombs, 
 and let them pass for what they are worth. 
 
 They continued on their trip, — a most delightful one, 
 — the reminiscences of which lived many a day in their 
 memories ; in fact, they were never forgotten. He, in pros- 
 perity, and partly at least in pleasure, may have forgotten ; 
 but she, by the scathing hand of adversity, never forgot. All 
 the past is riveted on her memory forever. 
 
 They stopped at several towns on their route to the place 
 of destination : pleasure and happiness seemed to await them 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 23 
 
 everywhere. At one place, tlie town of M ^ in tlie 
 
 county of J , dwelt a relative of Evans's — one wlio 
 
 liad bid Evans bring his newly-found cousin by, so that his 
 family and self miglit have the pleasure of seeing her. 
 
 A very kind family, and much social happiness was 
 mutually enjoyed; music of the piano was in requisition, 
 of which Miss Claiborne was passionately fond. Oh, how 
 exalting to her were its charms ! It reanimated and caused 
 her joyous heart to bend to heaven in a moment, and set 
 all her frame in a state of bliss, felt on no other occasion, 
 as if under the magic sound of heaven-born music. 
 
 As it was very cold, and j\Iiss Claiborne had suffered from 
 cold feet the day before, next morning Evans purchased a 
 comfortable pair of warm cloth overshoes for her, which 
 
 ]\Iiss F , the kind sister-in-law of Mr. G , came in 
 
 with, and said : " A present for you, Miss Grace," and be- 
 gan putting them on her feet. 
 
 Another token of his thoughtful care and kind attention, 
 which was calculated to make a deep impression upon Miss 
 Claiborne's sensitive and grateful heart. She could not 
 help loving him, and seeing in him all the noble traits of 
 what she thought a ?na?i ought to be ; and he was her kins- 
 man, too, one in whose veins ran the same warm blood; the 
 tie of affectionate consanguinity was theirs — the connect- 
 ing link, and she neither thought nor dreamed of any higher 
 relationship. 
 
 "Jsoble brother," said she, mentally; "some persons 
 say sensitive and affectionate natures make too much of 
 little things. Straws show which way the wind blows. 
 And if we are not grateful for small things, are we for great 
 ones ? Since life is so largely made up of mites, that man 
 or woman is more uniformly kind who shows it in a great 
 many little matters more than in great ones, from the fact 
 that we do not generally have it in our power to extend as 
 
24 
 
 BEEAB OF HEAVEN", 
 
 many large favors as small ones ; nor are we as often called 
 upon for the one as the other." 
 
 As they were at the breakfast-table next morning, Mr. 
 
 G remarked, jocosely, that he supposed Evans was 
 
 just taking Miss Claiborne out there for market. 
 
 " I suppose," said he, " that he thinks he will get the 
 chance of eating some of the cake." To which Evans made 
 no reply, but looked pitiful and downcast, for it had been 
 only about three short months since his first love — the 
 woman of his first choice — had closed her eyes, her beauti- 
 ful black eyes, on him and her two infant babes, and on 
 all things beneath the sun, in death. 
 
 The next setting of the sun brought them to M , 
 
 another small town in which lived some of Miss Claiborne's 
 acquaintances, and another teacher, sister of the one left 
 behind. Here they were kindly and merrily entertained 
 again. Music was the soul's vivifier again. Miss Clai- 
 borne was speaking of her great love of the sacred science. 
 Evans, having Miss Claiborne's hand in his, said it was 
 suited for the performance of the celestial art. This was 
 touching a tender chord with her, for, of all her studies, 
 music had been the most desired besides astronomy, in 
 which she delighted, and of which she had had the oppor- 
 tunity to acquire a competent knowledge ; but of music 
 she had not been so highly favored. And as their thoughts, 
 
 as he remarked immediately after they left S , seemed 
 
 to run in the same channel, of course it was pleasing to 
 her to hear from him sentiments expressed so much in 
 unison with her own hopes and aspirations. 
 
 When they arrived in the county to which they were 
 bound, as they were crossing a creek called Line Creek, a 
 dark foreboding of evil came over the otherwise happy 
 spirits of Miss Claiborne, and an oppression and sense of 
 coming unfortunate future events, for which she could not 
 then account. 
 
A.ND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 25 
 
 " My dear cousin/' said slie to Evans, " in tliis place, wMIe 
 crossing this little water, I wish to exact a promise of you." 
 "What is that?" said he. 
 
 " That if I am not pleased in the place whither you are 
 taking me, you will carry me back." (" Oh, yes, carry me 
 back," was sung in those days as a popular song.) 
 
 "Well," said he, "Cousin Grace, I hope you will be 
 pleased ; you must not anticipate misfortune." 
 
 They stopped for the last time before reaching Evans's 
 
 father's house, at one of his sisters, Mrs. C . This lady 
 
 appeared to be delighted with her new cousin, and was 
 indeed a very kind lady. 
 
 Evans tarried but a short time at his sister's house, and 
 they shortly afterwards arrived at the residence of his 
 father, — a venerable old man, a member of the Baptist 
 Church, very pious, but strenuous in his views, for he be- 
 lieved the Baptist Church to be the only true Church on 
 earth. He greeted his new relation, Miss Claiborne, with 
 great cordiality and hospitality, and was fatherly, kind, and 
 obliging to her. 
 
 And oh how her young heart ran out with gratitude 
 to this good man. For such a one she had sighed all her 
 days, her own father having been, from her earliest recollec- 
 tion, often sunk into the inebriate's whirlpool. This had, 
 like the blight of perdition, cast a shade of sadness over 
 all the prospects of his young and rising fair daughters, 
 four in number, together with their amiable mother ; and 
 on none of their tender minds had it had so sad an effect as 
 on this sensitive young girl. " Tell me I hate,'' said she. 
 " 3Iy very soul abhors and loathes the deep, dark beverage of 
 hell." She thought it a great hindrance in the way of 
 their otherwise bright prospects for happiness in mortal 
 life. And she thought too truly in this case. Oh, ye 
 daughters of the sober, what think ye of the pall of mid- 
 3 
 
26 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 night blackness to cover your devoted, defenceless heads 
 all the morning and bloom-time of your youthful days? 
 And if it be so dreadful, so horrible, to the poor daughter, 
 the drunkard's child, what must it be to the poor wife who 
 could never expect to get out of his clutches till death 
 should release her ? And oh, ye wretched fathers, who so 
 far forget your vows at the altar of love, and fealty to 
 your Maker, to "Provoke not your children," how will 
 ye answer in the day of judgment for one of a thousand 
 of the sorrows ye have brought upon your helpless offspring 
 by your damning drunkenness ? Ye that have never felt 
 the pangs of woe accruing to the poor, sorrowful child of 
 a father sunk in the quagmire of dissipation, and who is 
 sometimes cpiite fortunate if he or she escapes without 
 broken bones, excuse the warmth of these lines. The heart 
 knoweth its own sorrows ; and if there is an object to be pitied 
 on this side the grave, that object is the drunkard's child. 
 
 One day, shortly after their arrival at Evans's father's, 
 Mr. Napoleon Smith and his wife came. 
 
 Miss Claiborne had never seen Mr. Smith but once before, 
 when he had called there on his way home from town, in 
 company with others ; and little did she think he had any 
 wish to see her, having never scarcely heard of him, only 
 that he had married Evans's sister, and was son-in-law to 
 the good old gentleman ; for Evans did not call at his house 
 on his way to his father's. Perhaps if he had, this sad 
 story might never have had truth and foundation to build 
 upon, if she had seen him at home with his first wife. 
 Miss Claiborne did not know that this visit was intended 
 for her by her cousin, Mr. Napoleon Smith, otherwise she 
 would not have left. But Evans had made a prior engage- 
 ment for them to go to town to church, and dine at Dr. 
 
 T 's ; and she, being ignorant of their intended visit to 
 
 lier, set off with him to fulfil their engagement to dinner. 
 
AND HUSKS OF STVIKE. 
 
 27 
 
 It was now Cliristm as-day, she having been at Evans's 
 father's five days, While on their way to the village, 
 Evans said to ]Miss Claiborne : 
 
 " Cousin Grace, tell me if there is any love between you 
 and that young man ? ! meaning one left behind near 
 S .) ^' K you do not tell me, I will not ask you again."' 
 
 And, strange to think, she would not tell him a 
 word, but was silent during the time they were going to 
 town. He never could divine her views, except that she 
 wished to be let alone about all of her former friends and 
 lovers, of whom there were many, and toward whom she 
 had warm and grateful feelings, and for no one more par- 
 ticularly than another of her numerous admirers. And 
 if Evans did not wish to acquaint himself with the fact of 
 her former attachment for himself, he might have wished 
 to know for the sake of others ; to which, of course, she 
 would feel a kind of resentment, as if to say, let them find 
 out themselves, or let me alone.' I do not wish to be ques- 
 tioned on the subject ; there is no one that I desire whose 
 face I have yet seem And he was her noble brother, one 
 of whom she could not well entertain higher views and 
 regards, and, as a confidential brother, perhaps he only 
 wished to avail himself of his adopted sister's secrets. 
 
 But he ' failed in this, however. Perhaps, if she had let 
 down a little of that impregnable taciturnity that was her 
 armor of defence, and accepted the gift of his confidence, 
 as she certainly had the opportunity to do, such a sad tale 
 as the following might never have been written. But, alas! 
 we know not what is before us, nor what is best for us at all 
 times ; and, as she did not tell him all in after days, we 
 think the sequel will prove that he alone was to blame. 
 
 Yet such were her exalted views of pure, unsullied, unin- 
 terested, undying friendship, that we believe she would 
 rather have sufiered all she did than be tinder obligations 
 
28 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 to one even very dear to her, if that friend should casually 
 or carelessly ignore or neglect her friendship, for, then, he 
 or she forfeits it ; because, to her mind, there is always a 
 cause for all effects ; and if affected without a cause, his or 
 her friendship is without value. 
 
 Here are some nice distinctions with regard to friendship. 
 This is, to our heroine, as the law of the Medes and Persians, 
 that change not. But how few do we find who view friend- 
 ship in this light ; and yet it is the only true one. Oh, the 
 evanescent, hollow-hearted sound called friendship ! It is, 
 indeed, like the vapor that appears for a while, and then is 
 gone forever ; it is like the candle-fly, that flutters while the 
 blaze lasts, and when it is extinguished it is gone too. 
 
 Time rolled on. Evans's mother was not so fond of Miss 
 Claiborne as his father was. She spoke of girls of pretty 
 property, although poor herself when married to Evans's 
 father. We heard this often in after days. In this case, as 
 in others, straws show which way the wind blows. For, 
 about the time Miss Claiborne was about to go to town to 
 take charge of her school, Grace, ever observant, and, oh, 
 too lightning-like quick to see, hear, and feel, took notice 
 that she did not join as heartily as the old gentleman did 
 in the invitation to visit them again, but said only, "I 
 reckon Grace will want to see us sometimes." 
 
 This one thing would have deterred her if nothing else,— 
 if her cousin Evans had made love to her a hundred times, 
 her proud spirit, which thought herself as good as any* of 
 Adam's race, would never, never have brooked the insults 
 of an unfeeling mother-in-law, who could pass all merit 
 and accomplishments, and speak of girls with pretty prop- 
 erty in her hearing, when she knew that pretty property was a 
 set of darkies for whom they never worked one day in their 
 lives ; and could lightly esteem such girls as Grace, although 
 well educated and refined, and could do all kinds of fine 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 29 
 
 ■ work — but yet, because slie did not have tbe darkies, she 
 too evidently, to her sensitive mind, shoved that she for one 
 did not think so highly of her ; nay, would rather have liked 
 her better, if she had been as ignorant of book-learning, as 
 they call it, as one of those sables, provided she had owned 
 some half dozen of them ! This was, then, one bitter dreg in 
 many a noble Southern girl's cup. This would have been 
 
 ■ quite redemptive enough for her ; and Grace knew it. Oh, 
 the quickness with which such things were discerned by her ! 
 
 So, not much did she care for her husband and son's 
 • cousin. Evans escorted her to town, and manifested his 
 kind and brotherly feelings again. He admonished her by 
 the way, and said : " How pleased he would be to hear 
 everybody say what a fine young lady is that Miss Claiborne." 
 
 Grace replied that that had been so often the case, she 
 did not anticipate a different state of things ; nor would 
 she, we suppose, had she not met with qjixj and the jealous 
 man. 
 
 She boarded with a brother-in-law and sister of Evans's 
 deceased wife, and took charge of her school with the rec- 
 tor of the academy, a Presbyterian minister of good repute, 
 of sterling virtues and qualities. In this place Miss Clai- 
 borne was also very popular. We do not think at that 
 time a dog would have moved his tongue against her good 
 name and fair fame. 
 
 It was at that time a frontier town, and as young ladies of 
 polished manners and good education were rare in that sec- 
 tion, girls of that style were held in great admiration by gen- 
 tlemen of the better class, of which there are always some in 
 a new country. Consequently, great attention was paid to her 
 and a few others of similar manners and refinement. This 
 also, as is often the case, excites envy among those of a difier- 
 ent style — those girls who piqued themselves upon the pos- 
 session of a few sables of the African race, bequeathed to them. 
 3* 
 
30 
 
 BKEAD OP HEAVEN, 
 
 by their fathers, for whom they never toiled, nor put forth 
 one cent's worth of energy, either intellectual or physical, in. 
 all their lives,— their short and worse than useless lives. 
 
 Evans's deceased wife's sister was a woman altogether 
 devoid of everything good and lovely belonging to the 
 feminine character. She envied Miss Claiborne. But such 
 a thought never entered the pure girl's mind at that time. 
 She had said to her cousin, when speaking of whom she 
 should board with, " It is a matter of importance, my 
 cousin, that I should board with a prudent woman.'* 
 And if he thought his sister-in-law one, he was sadly mis- 
 taken ; which is another proof how egregiously men some- 
 times err in their estimate of women. Undeserving women 
 are sometimes held in estimation by them, while others, of 
 a nobler, more reserved nature, and deep sincerity, are over- 
 looked by them. From all time, the woman of the worst 
 advice seems to hold more sway and influence over men's 
 minds than the really good and sincerely pure. This 
 woman's mouth dropped the very honey-comb of double- 
 refined deception. She saw the warm friendship existing 
 between Evans and his cousin. Miss Claiborne. Jealousy, 
 deep as the pit, got into her deceitful heart, and she de- 
 termined to break it off. She had a single sister then, 
 whom she would fain have married to Evans ; and naturally 
 enough, too, for by that means she would have secured her 
 deceased sister's two little children, — a sweet and lovely 
 little girl and infant boy. Her property too, — for it was 
 boasted that this single sister had fifteen negroes, — was a 
 powerful incentive to a man of sense, when she could not 
 write her own name handsomely. 
 
 After a time, Evans was not so frequent in his visits to 
 his cousin as formerly. 
 
 The veritable landlady undertook to explain. She said 
 Evans had talked to her about it, with tears, and said that 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 31 
 
 lie was fond of his cousin's society, but the report had gone 
 out in town that Evans and ]\Iiss Claiborne were going 
 to be married. A slight cause, thought Miss Claiborne, 
 for making his visits less frequent. True, she had many 
 suitors, — a dozen at a time frequently of an evening,- — all 
 sitting, as one said afterward, charmed and pleased. Qne 
 said she had the most vivid imagination of any woman he 
 ever knew; another said he had heard some say they 
 would enjoy her society more if she did not speak so much 
 of religion. Well, it is not wise to thrust our religion at 
 every one, nor cast our pearls before s^vine ; but what an 
 objection ! Some of those very admirers are in eternity now. 
 "Wonder if they think she spoke of our holy religion too 
 much now ! Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth 
 speaketh. Miss Claiborne thought much on divine subjects, 
 therefore, if she talked at all, she must needs speak of what 
 she thought most. Although thus surrounded by those 
 who professed to be her great admirers, yet it was with her 
 as with all true, loving, affectionate dispositions ; her cousin 
 having been to her as a brother, she could not so well 
 and lightly dispense with his loved society, though she had 
 one hundred others, v»-ithout a good reason for so doing. 
 And was this a good reason ? IS^ow to be deprived of his 
 company, for the pitiful excuse of the idle and gossiping 
 people of that place, seemed passing strange to her. Not- 
 withstanding, she felt lonely at times when she thought of 
 her kindred, her mother and sisters ; she felt the heart of a 
 stranger, and almost of a lonely orphan. For was she not 
 trying to battle with the world for a living? She was 
 offended. He came ; she started to leave the room ; he 
 called her, and said : 
 
 " Cousin Grace, there is a letter in my hat for you that 
 I brought from the post-office." 
 
 Another stab to her affectionate heart — kindness and 
 
BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 unkindness blended. Would that it were all one way, then 
 would she know how to take it. She showed her displeasure 
 more than was usual with her — took the letter from 
 his hat, and ran up to her room, and there read her letter, 
 and remained till summoned to dinner, and so soon as it 
 was dispatched hastily retired to her room again. . He called 
 for her; he and the veritable sister-in-law sitting tete-a-tete. 
 
 " Cousin Grace," said he, " let not what the fools of this 
 place say affect your mind." 
 
 She replied ; " I had no such thought," and then said 
 no more, her impregnable taciturnity coming to her relief. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AN ENEMY. 
 
 IT was unpleasant, the whole affair. Grace could not ex- 
 actly define her feelings ; but we think they were some- 
 thing like the following, if spoken out: "Then why do 
 you regard them? you are a man, and afraid of no one. 
 I am a lone girl, in a strange place, and must I be deprived 
 of your society and you of mine, of which you say you are 
 fond, for the sake of those very fools whom you tell me to 
 disregard ? " 
 
 Oh, strange inconsistency, and not at all in accordance 
 with his kind attentions, in the beginning foreshadowed and 
 held forth. And oh, how glad she was that she had ever 
 acted on the reserve to this new relation. He need take no 
 fright, thought she. And yet it was ever with her so ; if 
 she once liked a person, and he or she had laid her very 
 
HUSKS OF 
 
 SWIXE. 
 
 33 
 
 tender, grateful heart under tribute to that person or per- 
 sons, her gratitude and love were such that it would take a 
 perfect storm to tear these tendrils of affection asunder. 
 It would be a very terrible affair that would cancel in her 
 mind former favors. Hence, the hardness of a world like 
 this, where thoughtless persons so often let fall the un- 
 guarded word — sometimes, too, cruel words, — like worm- 
 wood on a sensitive heart. And all this for no fault of her 
 own, for people will talk, if they never pray. Idle talk is 
 more congenial to most of mankind than praying; but, in this 
 case, where was the harm ? What hurt did it to any to 
 speak of the probability of two persons being married? 
 Did it so grate on his ear that he could not bear to hear 
 it, and then tell her not to regard it ? She had never heard 
 it ; but if she had, it would not have made her shy of his 
 company, for she knew there was no truth in it — so far as 
 she was concerned — and by this version from the sister- 
 in-law, it was no thgught of his. And we think there is not 
 a woman in the world who would have felt pleasant under 
 such delectable circumstances. She was in bad hands as 
 regards her landlady, but she knew it not then. 
 
 A bitter feeling, as of a lonely orphan, came over her, 
 and she thought of the sad foreboding that cast a shadow 
 over her mind as soon as she entered the county, and it 
 ought to be known to him that much of the sorrow of her 
 after life lay at his door. Xot that she wished him to ad- 
 dress her, or marry her — nothing of the kind. Before high 
 heaven, this was not the case. Marriage was the least of 
 all her thoughts. She had had ample opportunities to get 
 married, and was not at all concerned on that subject, 
 especially to this beloved cousin, whom she considered 
 already near enough kin to her — not a cousin only, but as 
 a dear brother. And is there any purer and more unselfish 
 
 C 
 
34 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 love on this eartli than a gentle, kind, devoted sister's 
 love? 
 
 Time rolled on. He came frequently, but not so often as 
 before. That indefinable feeling never got off her spirits ; 
 and she blamed him in her inmost heart, for if it had not 
 been for him, she would have left that town soon after her 
 arrival there, the prospects of her school not being so 
 auspicious as she had been induced to believe and expect, 
 for he had written to her that, judging from the past, it 
 would be worth at least five or six hundred dollars ; and 
 now, because some were prejudiced against the poor old 
 academy, because of the former incumbent, and vowed they 
 never would send to school in that house again, her school 
 was small. The old house! a potent reason for not sending. 
 
 Such are some of the caprices of the public. An unac- 
 countable set to deal with, and those who have least to do 
 with them are perhaps happiest. 
 
 She spoke of leaving, and going to a place to which she 
 
 had been solicited to go by a Mr. P , before coming to 
 
 this place. Her cousin A , too, of S , had preferred 
 
 her going to M , because it was nearer, so that he could 
 
 attend to her, if she did not succeed according to her ex- 
 pectations. In the very place she left, in C county, 
 
 one day coming from church, the pastor was in close con- 
 versation with her cousin N , wife of Mr. A , and 
 
 told her he could get a school worth five hundred dollars 
 right there, without the trouble of going to this frontier 
 town. But her foolish idea of being among her relatives, 
 whom she had never seen, the spirit of adventure, and the 
 enchantment that seemed to allure her thither, balanced the 
 scale, and caused it to preponderate in favor of the new 
 place. And when she came, and was sadly disappointed in 
 many respects, she said, " I will leave this place." 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 35 
 
 " Oil," said Evans, " you will ruin our town to leave us 
 now." 
 
 " Now," thought she, sadly, " what must I remain for ? 
 My business is not good, as I v,^as made to believe, and why 
 stay under an engagement to a parcel of trustees who have 
 not been overwise themselves?" They had, through their 
 correspondent, held out prospects that had not been real- 
 ized, nor did she think ever would be, at least in time to 
 relieve her anxieties. Although all pretended to be her 
 friends, this did not feed and clothe her. The trustees 
 could no more control the prejudices of the populace than 
 she could, and she scorned the idea of being dependent on 
 friends and relations, but hoped and expected her own 
 energies to work out for her her salvation in every want 
 and desire of her heart. Therefore, she could but ask the 
 question, " Why wish me to remain, when, perhaps, I can 
 do much better elsewhere ? Had not I as well, or better, 
 ruin the town, than for it to ruin me ? They will be better 
 able to bear it, for if I stay even one term out, and the 
 school is not flourishing, it will be said it went down in my 
 keeping because I am young. So my mind is to take my 
 humble self from hence." Friends and relations will flock 
 around in a day of prosperity, but when the winds of ad- 
 versity blow, they are too often blown away by them. God 
 help this fickle world ! Who ever depended upon it, and 
 did not get his hand, and his heart, too, pierced ? 
 
 These reasonings proved to be all too true ; and whether 
 Evans had a design in wishing her to remain, is known 
 only to high heaven. 
 
 Here we record this as one of the great mistakes of her 
 life, and for which she paid the most costly penalty, — that 
 of tribulation, sorrow, and misrepresentation nearly all her 
 after life ; for, although very amiable in her disposition, 
 easy to yield, yet she had decision of character enough 
 
36 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 in the elementary parts of her mind to act and do well 
 for herself, if she had commanded it, on this occasion. 
 There came times over her, in after days, when, if any man 
 or set of men would have undertaken to hold her under 
 Buch abominable and offensive obligations, — and she en- 
 tangled with them by no stronger chains than these, — • 
 every sentiment of a highly-incensed, wronged spirit would 
 have arisen in opposition to their cowardly doings, and she 
 would have left that town, ruin or no ruin, if she had, in 
 her efforts to get away, broken every trace and harness 
 that they seemed so ignobly to have considered binding on 
 her. If friends and relations advise well for us, well ; if 
 not, we should advise well for ourselves ; because, if misfor- 
 tune comes to us, we will almost invariably be blamed. 
 " Men will praise thee when thou doest well to thyself," 
 said an inspired penman ; and the saying is no less true 
 in our day than then. She remained against her own 
 judgment, and hence follows all the horrors that are de- 
 tailed in the following pages. 
 
 And we here remark, that we have never known it to be 
 otherwise, during the course of a long life of close observa- 
 tion, that when an individual, male or female, follows the 
 advice of others, — let him be Gabriel or other angel, if he 
 were on earth, — against the workings and judgment of his 
 own mind, " the still voice," which says " this is the way, 
 walk ye in it ! " he or she is sure to suffer for it. The great 
 
 Dr. L P , more than forty years ago, sounded out 
 
 from the pulpit, in the State of G and town of G , 
 
 (in which, at that time, dwelt the best people it has ever 
 been our lot to see and to know,) when we did this thing or 
 that, " Did not something tell you it was wrong ? " 
 
 Evans had evidently been very fond of his cousin. Some- 
 times, when coming to the house, and getting sight of her 
 through the window, he would kiss his hand to her, walk 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 37 
 
 with her to the Academy, and try to comfort her, for he 
 saw very plainly that she was desponding, her heart heavy 
 and drooping ; and he would say, " Good-bye, my sweet 
 sister," and she would reply, " Good-bye, my dear brother." 
 * All this, however, happened before his conference with 
 the sister-in-law. No wonder she should think his conduct 
 mysterious in after days. 
 
 Oh, why did not her unsuspecting heart see where her 
 enemy was, and flee from her as from a deadly serpent ? 
 Miss Claiborne, as before said, had many admirers, among 
 whom was one, a particular friend of Evans, who also 
 seemed to be a Vv'arm admirer of his fair cousin — whether 
 to endeavor to make a conquest, and to see how far he 
 could play on the affections of another, we never knew. 
 Of one thing we are sure : he was very obsequious in his 
 attentions to this young lady; and she, because she was * 
 from first sight struck with his personal appearance, was 
 guarded towards him in the beginning of their acquaint- 
 ance. But it would have been as impossible for her, with 
 her innocent, guileless, unsuspecting, and candid nature, 
 no more versed in the ways of the world than she was then, 
 to have thought that one so tall, erect, and with such hand- 
 some features, and so manly in his bearing, could have been 
 guilty of deception. Nay, if she had been an angel from 
 heaven, she might have been more suspecting, for they (the 
 angels) perhaps know more of the ways and hearts of men 
 than innocent and confiding human nature ; and, oh, how 
 often have we grieved that a pure spirit, sent from the 
 upper world, should ever know the deception that generally 
 lurks through all Adam's race. It is like the first serpent 
 that made its unholy descent into Eden's bowers. It winds 
 and entwines its unseemly self about everything near, and 
 enters every hole and corner of man's heart ; enters into 
 every crevice and works its way through all the fibres, 
 4 
 
38 
 
 BREAD OP HEAVEN, 
 
 thoughts, and devices of its too many willing subjects. 
 He would often repeat verses of poetry in her hearing: 
 " Had I the world, I'd give it all to be with thee." Then 
 he would take her pocket-Bible, which she generally had 
 about her, and point to that place : " And now I beseech 
 thee, lady, that we love one another; " and again : "Throw 
 back those golden tresses ; " "I would thou wert mine, I 
 would keep thee ever as now." 
 
 These are small items, some may think ; but large moun- 
 tains are composed of small grains, and, in our estimate of 
 things, causes and effects must be held forth. Was it not 
 at least flirtation ? In our opinion, no one should endeavor 
 to make an impression on another that is not true ; for if it 
 be not true, it must be false. Perhaps a love of the world 
 was a desideratum with him. 
 
 Miss Claiborne never intended to love him, although well 
 pleased with his apparent good and kind manners ; for she 
 had heard that he had loved another before she ever saw 
 him. But by this time Grace had gone to board with another 
 lady, and left the deceitful sister-in-law of Evans. She now 
 
 abode with Mrs. M. A. B. S , a lady with whom she was 
 
 much pleased, but whose policy was rather more worldly 
 than was Miss Claiborne's. " Oh," said she once, speaking 
 of this gentleman, " how could he love you whom he had 
 
 never seen ? For if he did love Miss W , it was long 
 
 before you came." 
 
 This argument had some force with Miss Claiborne ; and 
 when, on one occasion, he was in trouble, or pretended to 
 be, Grace pitied him, and sympathized with him. Pity, 
 we have heard, is nearly allied to love. We never loved any 
 one whom we did not first pity for some real or imaginary 
 sorrow mixed with what we thought his noble qualities. 
 To say he was unkind to Grace would not perhaps express 
 the matter rightly, unless in endeavoring to make impres- 
 
AND HUSKS OF 
 
 SWINE. 
 
 39 
 
 sions wHcli were not real. That indeed would be unkind- 
 ness of the sharpest kind. 
 
 With his low, soft tones, to make an innocent, confiding 
 girl believe that he loved her when he did not, is certainly 
 the greatest folly and madness. It is said of our blessed 
 Saviour, " neither was deceit in his mouth." If Grace had 
 been versed in a knowledge of the world, and had not already 
 been on her guard, his sin had not been so great. But he 
 had no cloak or covering for his double-dealing ; and we 
 suppose he has expiated long since for all these wrong- 
 doings. One redemption was in the matter. When Grace 
 did discover that he had made the attempt to trifle with the 
 most holy affections of the human heart, — although for many 
 long years she did not hate him, as he was ever kind and at- 
 tentive to her whenever he met with her, while she remained 
 in that country, — yet, when she did behold him in the last 
 times, she said, mentally, If thou be he, oh how fallen, or 
 changed ! " And she did inwardly thank God that he had 
 Tiever been her husband, if, in being such, he would have 
 appeared the filthy, sordid being he did, when he used to be 
 as neat as a new pin — stately and manly. 
 
 Could it be possible that in delving after the muck straw 
 of this world, to be spent in a blast by some profligate heir, 
 the human form divine could be so debased ? 
 
 " Like Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell 
 
 From heaven ; for e'en in heaven his looks and thoughts 
 
 Were always downward bent, admiring more 
 
 The riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold, 
 
 Than aught divine or holy else enjoyed 
 
 In vision beatific ; by him first 
 
 Men also, and by his suggestion taught, 
 
 Ransacked the centre, and with impious hands 
 
 Rifled the bowels of their mother Earth 
 
 For treasures better hid. Soon had his crew 
 
 Opened into the hill a spacious wound, . 
 
40 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 And digged out ribs of gold. Let none admire 
 
 That riches grow in hell ; that soil may best 
 
 Deserve the precious bane. And here let those 
 
 Who boast in mortal things, and, wondering, tell 
 
 Of Babel, and the works of Memphian kings, 
 
 Learn how their greatest monuments of fame, 
 
 And strength, and art, are easily outdone 
 
 By spirits reprobate, and in an hour 
 
 "What in an age they, with incessant toil 
 
 And hands innumerable, scarce perform. 
 
 Nigh on the plain, in many cells prepar'd, 
 
 That underneath had veins of liquid fire 
 
 Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude 
 
 With wondrous art founded the massy ore. 
 
 Severing each kind, and scumm'd the bullion dross : 
 
 A third as soon had form'd within the ground 
 
 A various mould, and from the boiling cells 
 
 By strange conveyance fill'd each hollow nook: 
 
 As in an organ, from one blast of wind. 
 
 To many a row of pipes the soundboard breathes. 
 
 Anon out of the earth a fabric huge 
 
 Kose like an exhalation, with the sound 
 
 Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet. 
 
 Built like a temple, where pilasters round 
 
 Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid 
 
 With golden architrave ; nor did they want 
 
 Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven ; 
 
 The roof was fretted gold." 
 
 It was thus it seemed his life had been spent, with head 
 bent down, intent on the accumulation of gold ; in charac- 
 ter with heathen industry, and assiduity in its acquisition. 
 But we know his love to his fellows, farther than self- 
 interest, 
 
 "Was all false and hollow: though his tongue 
 Dropped manna." 
 
 And how he stood with his Maker, it is not for us to say. 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 41 
 
 To his own Master he stands or falls. It was said he was 
 honest, and exacting to the last cent, which is more than can 
 be said of many others of his profession. It was also said 
 that he had no tenderness of heart towards the poor. We 
 heard of a dear lady who had been reduced to limited cir- 
 cumstances from the most refined and polished circles of 
 life. He, without previous introduction, without being an- 
 nounced, and without any of that kind, soft manner so 
 grateful to the oppressed with poverty and depressed spirits, 
 — which none knew better how to use in former days when 
 it suited his purposes, now all laid aside among these poor 
 refined ladies, — burst their door unceremoniously open, 
 and accosted them rudely on the subject of his business with 
 them, as if, with their altered circumstances, they had lost 
 all their refinement and knowledge of courtesy. Where 
 were those low, soft, mellow tones new ? The poor, we fear, 
 will not rise up and call him blessed. He has not made to 
 himself friends of the Mammon of unrighteousness. 
 
 Once, when Grace was speaking of the j^oor prospects of 
 her school, he advised her to quit teaching, and get married. 
 He would walk with her to Sabbath-school and church — 
 a Sabbath-school gotten up by her exertions in that place. 
 He would say to her, in his peculiar style, again, " There 
 was but one righteous Lot in the place ; " which appellation 
 he applied to her, and would speak of her intelligent coun- 
 tenance and intellectual brow to others. All of which 
 afiected Miss Claiborne not at all ; for she knew herself that 
 she was a poor sinner, saved by grace and faith in the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, the Saviour of the world. Vanity was 
 not one of her besetments. If it had been, there might have 
 been danger, for she had been praised all her life. What 
 is the praise of men ? It goes with the breeze ; for the same 
 breath that will praise you loudest, is often the first to cen- 
 sure, and for no fault of our own either, perhaps, but merely 
 
42 
 
 BEEAD OP HEAVEN, 
 
 because we may be fortunate or unfortunate, or, mayhap, 
 because we may be in the way of some envious one who 
 thinks we stand in the way of his or her exaltation. This 
 young disciple preferred the honor that comes from God. 
 
 Miss Claiborne had met Mr. N. Smith once on the streets, 
 on her way to school. He was in town during the court 
 week there. He very cordially invited her to come out to 
 visit them in the country, saying he would send for her any 
 time she would say she would come. And why did she not 
 go ? Alas ! if she had, a whole lifetime of sorrow might 
 have been prevented. And although there was much atten- 
 tion paid her from the gentlemen, yet she never was content 
 to remain after the late conduct of Evans ; the chief ground 
 of dissatisfaction being the insufficiency of her school. 
 
 She had another special admirer, one of whom Evans did 
 not think so well ; but one who was, from all that could be 
 gathered about him, sincerer in his professions than the 
 friend of Evans. 
 
 Time waned. The first term of the scholastic year was 
 drawing to a close. She had now, she thought, fully re- 
 solved to leave for the place spoken of before, and leave all 
 fair friends in word behind. 
 
 The gentleman admirer — more sincere than the friend 
 of Cvans — wrote something in the way of a farewell address. 
 
 " Farewell," said he, " and though we meet no more, 
 
 Think not that I '11 forget ; 
 For memory shall often travel o'er 
 
 Time passed since first we met. 
 
 " Your charms may not cheer 
 
 Another hour for me, 
 But may they gain for you some dear, 
 
 Some mutual destiny. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 43 
 
 " You may be happy, even great, 
 
 Though sometimes now in gloom; 
 But sadness is decreed by fate 
 
 To be my endless doom." 
 
 "Wonder if this were not his fate sure enough, as he chose 
 this world for his portion. 
 
 " Strive on, with philanthropic zeal 
 
 The youthful mind to lead ; 
 And time will soon reveal 
 
 That worth shall gain its meed. 
 
 " Success be yours, whether you roam^ 
 Or from the world retire — " 
 
 The two remaining lines and another verse not being at 
 hand, we cannot insert them. This, we think, was pretty 
 near the finale of this poor fellow with Grace, as she was 
 married shortly after, and never saw him but once more 
 during life ; though she both heard and read some of his 
 poetical effusions several times during his life. He signed 
 himself the " Bard " of the locality where he dwelt, and 
 was, we believe, a popular man as long as he lived. 
 
 About this time Mr. Smith and -another one of the trus- 
 tees called on Grace in town, to endeavor to induce her to 
 take a school in their neighborhood in the country, saying 
 she could make at least three hundred dollars by Christmas. 
 Now this she looked upon as insult added to injury. She 
 declined accepting the offer, because of the utter failure of 
 all her expectations in the school in town. 
 
 In a short time Evans came and dissuaded her from 
 leaving, and held out further inducements in reference to 
 the school. She then consented to go. Evans's friend 
 accompanied her out there. She attended the school the 
 first day ; but, behold, the prospects were equally gloomy 
 with those in town. She came back to Smith's house utterly 
 
44 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 discouraged and disgusted. Determined in her own mind 
 to be no longer baffled by these people, she tarried one 
 night under Smith's roof, and next day returned to the 
 town ; on the following day she sent for Evans, and told him 
 she now held him good to his promise to carry her back. 
 He tried again to dissuade her from her purpose of leaving 
 forever, as she thought, a place in which she had done so 
 little for herself in a pecuniary point of view. 
 
 He said, " I thought you were to make your fortune in 
 this county." 
 
 She replied, " I do not think there is anything here for 
 me." 
 
 " So carry me back." 
 
 True instinct again, and "that light that lighteth every 
 man that cometh into the world." And why should one 
 mortal ever persuade another from following it, when the 
 decisions sometimes made are fraught with eternal interests 
 to the parties ? And thus Evans, under promise of coming 
 back in a day or two to take her to the desired place, left. 
 Meantime, he had gone to Smith, his brother-in-law, to get 
 his carriage to take heft, and said to Smith he would be 
 right glad if he would not let him have it, " for I do not 
 wish her to go." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Smith to Evans ; " you can have it." For 
 his wife was now dead, and he had serious thoughts of ad- 
 dressing Miss Claiborne himself, and intended, if she left, 
 to follow her. 
 
 During this time the young unmarried sister-in-law of 
 Evans, with the fifteen negroes, called one day at Mrs. M. 
 A. B. S.'s, and said to Miss Claiborne ; 
 
 " Who is going to take you to M , Miss Grace ? " 
 
 " Why, my cousin, of course," she replied ; " as he prom- 
 ised to do when I first came, if I should not like to stay." 
 
AND HUSKS OP SWINE. 
 
 45 
 
 Since those days of trial, — so horrible in retrospect to a 
 young sensitive mind like Miss Claiborne's, — we have seen 
 very clearly that this young girl and her sister had their 
 eyes on Evans's movements ; for they had, in part, broken 
 up the social happiness between him and his cousin, and 
 did not half like this anticipated trip in her company again. 
 
 In after days it was discovered that they had stood be- 
 tween the cousins. But of that she did not dream at the 
 time. She only thought some things were strange, passing 
 strange and mysterious ; but as she loved no one particu- 
 larly, she puzzled her brain about it no more. 
 
 If there was anything this side of heaven Grace prized 
 above all earthly possessions, it was her pure, unsullied 
 reputation, which had ever been as clear as the sun. Grace 
 heard, not a- great while after all these amiable develop- 
 ments, that this veritable married sister-in-law of Evans 
 had, for no fault on her part, told a most slanderous false- 
 hood on her. This she heard^rom several respectable au- 
 thorities, — one, the Presbyterian minister with whom she 
 
 was associated in her school, and one other, Miss A 
 
 W , who said she had heard the audacious slanderer 
 
 affirm it for the truth. 
 
 Grace never spoke to the yellow slanderer again for many 
 long years. And was she not right in feeling at first, in- 
 stinctively, that she ought not to board with her, when she 
 said to Grace, " You is going to board with me, is you ? " 
 And this slanderous tale, put into Evans's ears, was the 
 cause, doubtless, of his saying to Smith, when he went to 
 ask for the carriage, " Grace, he reckoned, had done wrong.'' 
 O heavens ! that Grace had heard it in time that he said so ! 
 She never would have let him interfere with any in- 
 terests of hers again, school or no school ; nor taken her 
 away from that place, either ; for she would have taken the 
 stage, and gone to M , and never would have seen his 
 
46 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 face again, for believing that slanderous lie of his slatternly 
 sister-in-law, with her filthy little urchins around her, in- 
 stead of believing her too pure to do anything amiss on 
 this earth, if she knew it. If this was his model of a pru- 
 dent woman, God help him for a weak judgment in such 
 matters. 
 
 " Done wrong I " Yes, she did, my noble sir, in one thing 
 — that she fled not from you and all her very kind friends 
 
 there, and went among people like she left in S , where 
 
 you first saw her, and where a whole village of people were 
 her friends indeed, without a dissenting voice. 
 
 O heavens ! how we do hate coarse people, for they are 
 nearly always sure to envy and slander those superior to 
 them. 
 
 Grace never could think of this abominable woman again 
 without the utmost contempt. What could have induced 
 her thus to belie an innocent, unsuspecting, confiding girl, she 
 never could divine. She regarded her as a murderess. For 
 had she not stabbed her fair name in a most vital part, 
 and gone on with impunity ? Whereas, if she had assas- 
 sinated her body, all the country would have been in arms 
 against her, and justice would have been demanded by the 
 laws of the country. Now, she had done worse, and no one 
 interfered except her friends, who knew the right side of the 
 matter, and cried shame, shame, upon her ! And we are 
 almost sure we saw some of the effects of this lie on the 
 
 mind of her sister in W P thirty years after. 
 
 Nay, we do not think it wrong to wish that slanderous wo- 
 man, who could so deliberately tell this diabolic falsehood, 
 which she knew to be false, might yet receive in this 
 world the full reward of her foul deed ; that she may drink 
 the bitter cup to the very dregs ; for, if never expiated in 
 this life, it will be forever in the next, as we can look upon 
 her in no other light than that of a murderess of the first 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 47 
 
 order. iNay, worse; for the effects of killing the body 
 would have ceased, but the sufferings inflicted by scandal 
 never, never cease till the great day of God Almighty shall 
 come. 
 
 " Make no enemies ; he is insignificant indeed, that can do 
 thee no harm." Grace had never done anything in her life 
 intentionally to make an enemy. Some may think it a 
 light thing to speak evil of the absent ; but that such senti- 
 ments are more popular among mankind, more so than they 
 could ever be brought to acknowledge to. themselves or 
 others, is manifest from the favor in which such people are 
 held. Favor ! says one ; yes, Javor, my dear sir, else the 
 practice would cease. " Where no wood is, the fire goeth 
 out ; so where no tale-bearer is, strife ceaseth."' 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Tattle-bearer." 
 
 "Well," says Mr. Tattle-retailer, "'did you hear what 
 Mrs. Goodall has done?" 
 
 " Ko," says Mr. Tattle-bearer. 
 
 " Well," says Mr. Tattle-retailer, " I am sorry I men- 
 tioned it-; but, as I have, I will tell you." 
 
 All the time Mr. Tattle-retailer is so glad to tell Mr. 
 Tattle-bearer, that it is a rich treat to him to have this bit 
 of scandal to retail. " He rejoices more than when their 
 corn and wine increase," and does not seem to even know 
 that it is written of a good citizen of the world or Zion. 
 He is described as one " that walketh uprightly, and work- 
 eth righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart. He 
 that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his 
 neighbor, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbor." 
 
 We once heard a man of God, a good minister of the 
 gospel, say, " That he did wish that love could be preached 
 all round his circuit." And we wish it could be preached 
 all round the world. And another is like it, — even better, 
 — which we pray ardently might be printed in golden let- 
 
48 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 ters on the skies, and on everything in creation. " Thinketli 
 no evil." What is it that thinketh no evil ? Is it man, 
 woman, or child? Is it cherubim, seraphim, or angel? 
 No ; it is Charity ! And what is charity ? Not your little 
 gifts called charity, grudgingly dealt to the poor as if you 
 were parting with your life's blood. No ! that is a desecra- 
 tion of the name. But how shall we describe it ? Where 
 get words to express it ? Who understands the meaning of 
 the word, " Charity " ? Theoretically and practically none 
 but our heavenly Master, and such as have yielded them- 
 selves to God, so as to be transformed into His glorious image 
 in heart and life, and to obey the injunction of Him who was 
 Charity personified, — the immaculate Son of God, — who 
 said, " Do unto all men as ye would they should do unto 
 you ; for this is the law and the prophets." Whoever did 
 this, and failed to feel the peaceable fruits of righteousness, 
 even though he should be persecuted for it? From long 
 experience and observation, we have found this to be one 
 of the most prevalent evils in this sin-benighted world, and 
 one that is indulged in by what is called good society, and, 
 sometimes by those who name the holy name of Christ, 
 with less compunctions of conscience than any other sin 
 whatever. Indeed, such is the frequency of this blinding 
 sin, that few persons take notice of it. And there are many, 
 even of comparatively good people, who, if they were told 
 they were guilty of this heinous sin, would be utterly as- 
 tonished, and be ready to deny any such charge as lying at 
 their door. The disease is so deep and hidden, that none 
 but the most skilful can detect it. And so much do a cer- 
 tain class of mankind like to indulge in vituperations 
 against their kind, that it does not seem as if they wished 
 to desist from this awful practice, or to be enlightened in 
 regard to it. Who has seen it or heard it, say they ? Or 
 what harm is there in it ? I meant no harm. And some 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 49 
 
 will even wipe their mouths, as the evil woman, and say, " I 
 have done no evil Our tongue is our own ; we can say 
 what we please." Oh, yes, fair tattler, therewith bless you 
 God, and therewith curse man, who is made ui the simili- 
 tude of God." They indulge in this evil inclination of their 
 hearts, because, as Mr. Xoyes Harris says, " Selfishness, the 
 sin of the world, has long since become the sin of the 
 Church." So these precious sinners know that there is no 
 sin — excepting that of covetousness, its mother or t^vin-siste^ 
 — more indiscriminately overlooked by the world than this. 
 Therefore they have so graciously transferred it among the 
 members of the Church, because it is in favor, it is fashion- 
 able. And yet aU speak ag-ainst it. Scarcely any will ad- 
 mit that he or she is guilty of it, so very much are they be- 
 clouded by the glamour of this evil. If, on some occasions, 
 their every word of evil against the absent was written 
 down and brought before them, they would, in all probabil- 
 ity, deny ever uttering such words, or think you demented 
 in asserting such things of them. They forget, or perhaps 
 never read, the holy words, If any man have not the spirit 
 of Christ, he is none of his." And that " many shall say 
 unto Him in that day, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy 
 name, and in thy name have done many wonderful works'?" 
 And what is the reply ? Depart irom me, ye workers of 
 iniquity; for I jiever knew you." Oh, here is where the 
 misery lies in Christendom. The want of love to one an- 
 other, esi^ecially to those of the household of faith. 
 
 We feel and know that our feeble pen is not sufficient to 
 paint this dreadful picture of a common evil as its vast im- 
 portance demands. Would that God's heralds of the Cross 
 would take it up more zealously than they ever have done, 
 and tell their people, tell all the world, of the sin of leprosy 
 being upon them so deeply that the taint runs from genera- 
 tion 10 generation, till indeed, in this matter, the sins of the 
 5 D 
 
50 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEK, 
 
 fathers are visited upon the children, not only to the third 
 and fourth generation, but (is it not reversed ?) shows itself 
 almost among thousands of generations, whose minds are 
 tainted with this loathsome practice or disease. 
 
 It is not for us, either, to say what the popular amuse- 
 ments of a nation should be. But would it not be well for 
 some master-hand to show off the deformity of this vice in all 
 its hideousness ? Its slime can be traced back to the bower' 
 of Eden. Did not the adversary of God and man begin 
 by misrepresentation? And of whom did he speak evil? 
 And whom did he misrepresent? Beware, fair dealer in 
 slander I You see whom you imitate, and whose model is 
 your guiding star — Satan, that old serpent, and the great 
 and holy God is the one whom he misrepresented. His most 
 faithful followers are sometimes traduced most. This, you 
 see, is the handiwork of Satan, our common enemy. And 
 will you be his ally ? Oh tell it not ; let not the heathen 
 hear this — that citizens of the greatest country in the 
 world deal in scandal and evil-speaking. We have heard 
 that the Cuban ladies speak not evil of the absent — speak no 
 evil one of another. We have advantages more than Cuba. 
 
 Now, while Grace was waiting for the return of Evans, 
 Mr. Napoleon Smith had been to town, and walking with 
 
 Miss Claiborne and her landlady, Mrs. M. A. B. S , 
 
 Grace said, in speaking of leaving : 
 
 " I do not like to stay in a place where I cannot make 
 my honorable support." 
 
 " Oh," said Smith, " your friends will support you." 
 ■ Now Evans, instead of coming in a day or two, had gone 
 
 to a Commencement in A , far beyond the place to 
 
 which Miss Claiborne wished him to take her. So easily 
 he could have taken her while on this trip. But she knew 
 not of this, and sat looking every day for his return accord- 
 ing to promise, until her eyes were strained and she weary, 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 51 
 
 for she was impatient to be gone. After waiting many 
 daysj'' at last she ventured to ask her landlord if he had 
 seen her cousin in town recently. And behold he replied, 
 
 " Why, he has gone to the Commencement in A ! " 
 
 Miss Claiborne was thunderstruck. It was unaccountably 
 strange, and passing strange ! What could she think ? Oh 
 that she had then and there hired her way on the stage and 
 
 gone to M ! It stirred her up again, however, and 
 
 something like resentment took possession of her heart this 
 time. 
 
 " I will no more be dependent on you," said she, men- 
 tally, *' if I take the stage and go. Such unpunctual con- 
 duct, and seeming indifference to my interests, when you 
 know how anxious I am about this matter, and how much 
 you have professed to be concerned for my welfare." 
 
 Now Smith knew of Evans's absence long before she did. 
 So he went to town, one day, with the intention of calling 
 on Miss Claiborne. • 
 
 The landlady having gone a shopping, she was alone, just 
 as he wished, he said. But she would as soon have thought 
 of a visit from some inhabitant of the moon (the man in 
 the moon, for instance) as a visit from him. And least of 
 all — of his business. She thought perhaps he had come to 
 speak of her going away, or other business matters. But 
 behold ! he laid siege to her heart and hand, and sat woo- 
 ing her from morning till high noon in his own way. She 
 seemed not to understand him, and, in fact, did not ; for he 
 spoke of her future prosperity, which she very naturally 
 thought applied to her prospects in regard to making money 
 by her school, as this was the one all-prevailing idea with 
 her. 
 
 Near the close of his long address, she said : 
 " Why, sir, I do not think I understand what you are 
 driving at." 
 
52 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 " Why, for us to get married," said he, " if you are not 
 engaged." 
 
 Then she was astonished beyond measure, and as much 
 thunderstruck as when she heard of the exit of Evans, 
 while she was waiting for him to take her away. She came 
 very near saying she was engaged, as that was the im- 
 promptu thought which came to her mind. But as it was 
 not the whole truth, as she was engaged to no man, but 
 only engaged to go away, that first impulse to tell only part 
 of the truth, and which would haye been the light of 
 heaven to guide her in this predicament, was not obeyed. 
 She replied, " She was not engaged." For he thought she 
 and Evans were engaged ; being his brother-in-law, he had 
 heard such a thing spoken of in the family. 
 
 Oh, we have often thought, why does not some voice 
 speak from heaven, to guard the unwary, lonely, and un- 
 protected when danger is nigh. Perhaps there is a voice, if 
 we would obey it. And this might have been one to her to 
 tell him that she was engaged. She needed not to tell him 
 how engaged. Many have too little conscientious regard for 
 the truth ; but some may have a too scrupulous conscience 
 on some occasions. Perhaps this was one. It seems all the 
 way through that she was bound to be the child of indeci- 
 sion, by listening to the counteracting voices of those who 
 styled themselves her friends. 
 
 cousin. If there was, it was altogether without her knowl- 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 grace's MAKRIAGE — THE CAMP-MEETING. 
 
 foregoing pages whether 
 between Grace and her 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 53 
 
 edge or consent, and we believe it takes the consent of the 
 contracting parties to make one in our country. She was 
 engaged conditionally, if he came, to go with him to the 
 much desired place often referred to iu this book. He 
 came not, and the engagement never was fulfilled. If it had 
 been, perhaps #liese pages never would have been written. 
 She could, if she had once aroused up in all her native 
 energy, and bid defiance to all these bafiiing, inconsistent 
 friends, have gone without their escort or protection. And 
 she would have done so, if she had in the least susjDected 
 them of any design to detain her against her will. But a 
 young lady of amiable disposition, without some powerful 
 impetus to act, never can go against the advice of all her 
 professed friends, and act in opposition to them. In many 
 cases, it would be infinitely better for her if she could weigh 
 well the matter, and theji, as she had herself to rely on, act, 
 independently of ten thousand friends, for they may not 
 know the voice of Providence in these matters for us as 
 well as we do ourselves. 
 
 He asked her mind on the subject. She replied : 
 " Sir, as the thought is entirely new to me, I must have 
 time to deliberate on it." 
 
 " How long ? " he said. As Mrs. M. A. B. S intended 
 
 going to the Springs, she knew her time would be limited 
 for deliberation on the subject, therefore she named a com- 
 paratively short time. It would have been better if she 
 had cut short then, or had set the time 7iever to come. But 
 we anticipate. 
 
 He left, she thought, "^^^hen the mistress of the house 
 returned she told her of Mr. Xapoleon Smith's visit. Mrs. 
 
 M. A. B. S appeared to be much pleased at this proposal 
 
 to her young friend, and said, " He is the very man for you. 
 He has been more uniformly friendly to me than any other 
 gentleman in the country. There is a house for you when- 
 5* 
 
54 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 ■ever you will say the word. That she had gone out there 
 frequently, and spent whole days with Mr. Smith. That 
 the children just needed some one to culture them. And 
 you are the very person ; you are just suited for such a 
 position." 
 
 Grace replied that " she was not in need of a house ; 
 that she had never seen the day yet that she could not get 
 a home any time she wished. And as to the children, I 
 have never had any idea of assuming that offensive respon- 
 sibility, and much maligned position. I never intended to 
 be a stepmother f not that I know aught for or against it. 
 But if I were to enter the ranks of such, it would be in the 
 spirit of a missionary, to take care, to work for, and do 
 good to the motherless children. Moreover, I have no idea 
 of marrying any man unless he is a Methodist and a 
 Christian." 
 
 " But Mr. Smith is a Methodist and a Christian," said 
 
 Mrs. M. A. B. S ." This set Grace to thinking. " This 
 
 man has been married into the family twenty years; is 
 brother-in-law to my cousin. If there were anything amiss 
 about kim, should I not have heard it ? " 
 
 She had often heard her mother say that she would rather 
 be an old man's darling than a young man's slave. Her 
 own dear teacher had said that girls would often turn aside 
 from the plain farmer to some coxcomb, who would wear 
 his hat jauntily, and sport a silver- or gold-headed cane, 
 when, perhaps, he had not a cent in his pocket. Grace 
 never intepded to make such a choice as that ; but above 
 all things, she never intended to marry but for worth of 
 chstracter. 
 
 Mrs. M. A. B. S did everything in her power to bear 
 
 forcibly upon Grace's mind in regard to this gentleman. 
 Grace did think a great deal, but she had no one to direct 
 her except those in favor of the gentleman's suit.' 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWISB. 
 
 55 
 
 On time flew. Smith sent his eldest son and daughter — 
 the one eighteen, and the other sixteen — up to see Grace 
 their cousin, to get her to go shopping with them. " Now," 
 thought Grace, Smith has mentioned his intentions and 
 addresses to me to these poor children, and they already 
 like me, else they would not seek my company."' Fatal 
 mistake I And she came very near asking them how they 
 would like her for a mother ; but that shyness and modesty 
 ladies feel on the subject of courtship, prevented her from 
 speaking. Moreover, she fully believed the father had set 
 all things right, and hence she held her peace. 
 
 Mrs. M. A. B. S.'s trip to the Springs was every day in 
 contemplation. She wished Grace to accompany her, and 
 suggested that she should send to Mr. Smith to get his car- 
 riage, so that her own cousin, jvlr. M , might escort her 
 
 in company with herself and Evans's friend, who was to 
 attend her. Miss Claiborne had written to Smith, and sent 
 it by his daughter, with this request. Also replied to one 
 written by himself, and sent by the same hand, in which he 
 requested her to come home with the children, and abide 
 there during Mrs. M. A. B. S.'s absence. Grace had said 
 in her reply, if such a thing should happen, — alluding to 
 his couiiship, — she did not think it proper to abide at his 
 house. The daughter read both the notes, and understood 
 neither. The son and daughter took dinner with Grace, 
 and returned home to their father,, bearing the ominous 
 note fraught with so much consequence to all parties. 
 
 Next morning. Sabbath, before the sun was up, and before 
 Miss Claiborne was dressed, a negro man from Smith, — ■ 
 whom Grace called his page, — came, bringing a note from 
 that worthy gentleman to Grace. Xow she was vexed, and 
 if she had been left to herself, would have snapped every- 
 thing asunder then and there. But Mrs. M. A. B. S 
 
 smoothed the apparent difficulty. Mr. Smith said in the 
 
56 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 note to Grace, " as to the gig, she was welcome to that and 
 all he had." A gracious offer for a father of many heirs to 
 make to the successor, in view, to their mother. A hollow 
 and false offer, doubtless, to say nothing of its injustice. 
 " But," said he, further, I am unwilling for you to go to 
 the Springs." Quite a prerogative and an assumption for 
 a man who had recently broached the subject of courtship, 
 and knew not yet what would be the result of his suit. 
 
 Grace, let alone, would have written him he need come 
 no more, nor trouble himself , any further about her. How 
 true are our instincts to our own preservation ! And how 
 balked and biased by our friends, who see not as we do. 
 But her friend prevented, and she suffered herself to be led 
 by her. 
 
 She, however, wrote very discouragingly to him ; said 
 the charge seemed to be too great for her. He said also in 
 the note, " that he wished to come up next day, or the day 
 following, and have their designs accomplished." What 
 haste ! And what was it all for ? Ah ! he knew. He had 
 a design, certainly. But his design was hid away down in 
 his own heart, all unknown to his victim, or others whose 
 happiness or woe was not in his thoughts. 
 
 That evening being Sabbath, he thought there would be 
 a crowd of young company, and hence was afraid to show 
 himself, among so many, as a competitor for Miss Claiborne's 
 favor. 
 
 Napoleon Smith, as was said before, was about twenty 
 years older than Grace Claiborne, but still quite youthful 
 in his appearance. So, after the dreaded Sabbath evening 
 was over, very early on Monday morning, he appeared before 
 Grace at her boarding-house. Nothing, it seemed, could put 
 him back. He told his children, when he left home, he 
 was going on business, but did not tell them what kind 
 of business. Had his intended victim used the like 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 57 
 
 duplicity on Mm, he would have had no further business 
 
 with her. And when he came he found Mrs. M. A. B. S 
 
 ready to start on her trip to the Springs. Grace had 
 declined going, not because he was unwilling, but because 
 she had no way to go without sending to Smith again. 
 
 She had not decided yet what she would do. Mrs. M. A. 
 
 B. S said to her, if she did conclude to accept Mr. 
 
 Smith and wait a couple of months till her return from 
 abroad, she would give her a splendid supper. When 
 Smith came, early, as was said before, she told him again 
 the charge seemed too great for her, young as she was ; 
 that she had ever thought she never would be what is called 
 a stepmother. But he met ever}^ objection. And she did 
 not think, in this case, she would be looked upon in that 
 light. The children's mother being her kinswoman, she 
 thought any other name besides the offensive one would do. 
 
 Smith was so eager, that he took no notice of any dis- 
 couragements thrown in his way. Grace thought him in a 
 great hurry, and could not imagine why he was so. Surely, 
 she thought, he cannot think that I am ready to marry 
 him as soon as the subject is mentioned. He would not 
 listen to the proposition to wait till Mrs. M. A. B. S.'s 
 return. There he sat again, from morning early till high 
 noon, telling her he had plenty to wait on her ; and when 
 she told him she could not do hard work, or what is called 
 drudgery, he said he would not have her do that, for he 
 was able to keep her from it. And as she had heard only 
 a good report of him, she then, in the sight of high heaven, 
 engaged herself to him, being untrammelled from a// others, 
 and free to love and marry whom she pleased. 
 
 Mrs. M. A. B. S had said she was justly calculated to 
 
 raise and educate those children. And her bountiful eye 
 and expansive heart, when she did get her consent to 
 undertake the charge, looked upon it in the light of a 
 
68 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 large missionary field of labor, better adapted to her large 
 views tban if she had married a young man with no incum- 
 brance. Where a more noble work than to take care of 
 motherless children? And oh, if it had been a well-regu- 
 lated family, how truly might her labors have been appre- 
 ciated and blessed ! All to whom she spoke approved her 
 choice but one man, and he the husband of her landlady. 
 He made some remarks to Grace about Smith that she 
 never forgot all her life ; because the man was not good 
 himself, and he knew better than she what was in a man, 
 when speaking from his own experience. 
 
 The sequel proved that Smith was afraid of Evans's 
 return home ; for if he had come before they were married, 
 and Miss Claiborne had asked counsel of him, — as she 
 doubtless would have done, — and he had given the least 
 intimation that Smith had not been as kind to his sister. 
 Smith's wife, she would have discarded him, no matter how 
 far she had proceeded in the matter, — all but tying the 
 fatal knot. But of this opportunity Smith was determined 
 she should have no chance. 
 
 And thus, shortly after, they were married one beautiful 
 day in August (Tuesday). The sun shone most brilliantly. 
 It was a delightfully clear and happy day to the parties. 
 A nice little party of seven or eight persons, the parson, 
 the good Presbyterian minister, her associate teacher, who 
 had always been her friend, and who rejoiced in what he 
 thought her good fortune in getting a good steady man. 
 And then in the midst of a gazing, surprised, and admir- 
 ing multitude, they set out for his residence in the country. 
 The news sped like fire, for no one in all that town, except 
 the parties concerned, knew, or perhaps thought, of such a 
 thing, till it was over, and they in pleasure and happiness 
 riding home. Poor girl ! little did she know what awaited 
 her. Better for her had she gone to her grave that day, 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 59 
 
 than to have gone to her husband's home. But God's pur- 
 poses are unknown and unsearchable to us. She, at least, 
 had no designs in this marriage but good ones. 
 
 When Grace arrived at her husband's residence, expect- 
 ing to be met with smiles and welcome, behold, he had not 
 told his children at all of his intended marriage. Xor had 
 he told his bride that his poor children did not know it. 
 What was all this for ? 
 
 There came times over Grace Claiborne, or now Mrs. 
 Smith, in after life, when, if a man had so deceived her, 
 and his children too, — two such important interested par- 
 ties, — and his children had commenced the hue and cry, 
 as these poor deceived children did, she Avould have deliber- 
 atelv walked out of his house, and told him she would not 
 live with him ; and if he would not have sent her back, she 
 would have walked back to town and managed her own case 
 for herself, and he might have done the same for himself. Oh, 
 if she had had the spirit to have done it then ! But no ; so 
 calm and self-possessed was she, and so taciturn, that she 
 said not a word to all that was said by his children, company 
 and domestics. She sat a mute spectator, and in deep 
 thought. " Got a young wife," said the eldest daughter ; 
 " he won't care for his children." He can love both wife 
 and children, thought the patient bride, and, in her inmost 
 soul, felt only like an older sister to this poor child, — for 
 the daughter was only about sixteen, and the bride a few 
 years older. And oh, if this had been a right sort of family, 
 to have suited her, how happy she might have been. The 
 poor daughter Mrs. Smith did pity again, when at the 
 dinner-table she said to her father, "Well, I think you 
 might have let me know you were going to get married, so 
 that I might have had a better dinner." This poor child 
 had, after her mother's death, taken charge of her father's 
 house, and had attended to her little brothers and sisters ; 
 
60 
 
 BUEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 and the neighbors said she had acquitted herself weU. And 
 if she never did treat that mother's cousin well, — now her 
 father's wife, — who was most to blame, father or daughter ? 
 
 Let a child have its own way nearly "all its life ; pretend 
 you are making property for it, for it alone ; nourish its 
 prejudices in their rank growth towards a certain class, 
 and then bring one of that class athwart every interest for- 
 merly felt in the child ; pretend to give all preference and 
 deference to that one objectionable person, against whom 
 you have shown no industry or justice in trying to keep 
 down or root out these passions engendered in the mind of 
 your child against that person. Put all their interests into 
 juxtaposition, and either throw, or pretend to throw, all 
 your weight on the side of the obnoxious one, and what will 
 be the result ? 
 
 " Better," says Dr. Adam Clarke, " that the rich and poor 
 meet together, than the vulgar and well-bred." And when 
 a family is allowed to be on equal terms with their menials ; 
 children associate with negroes; and the father does not 
 bring them up in the fear and in the nurture and admoni- 
 tion of the Lord ; play marbles on the Lord's day, and any 
 other desecration they see fit, we do not call them well-bred. 
 God said he knew Abraham that he would order his house 
 after him." And that these were neither refined, educated, 
 nor well-bred, we can fully attest from further developments. 
 "Who was to blame, father or children ? We simply know 
 facts, and must desist now on this part, as it properly belongs 
 to another future work ; as we intend mainly in this to con- 
 fine ourselves to Smith's conduct towards his new wife. 
 She would have loved him better than ever man was loved, 
 if he had treated her with justice ; if he had been the Chris- 
 tian he had been represented to be. But oh, the yellow 
 fever of the world had fastened on his vitals before Miss 
 Grace Claiborne ever saw him ! Serpent-like, its fangs had 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 61 
 
 twined closely about his heart's core. The love of this 
 world, and the good things of it, were the ruling passions. 
 For it he had delved day and night, in heat and cold. " He 
 was determined to be rich." Therefore he thought Miss 
 Claiborne should marry him without hesitation because he 
 had some property. ♦ 
 
 Time moved on. Thursday came. Evans returned from 
 the Commencement. He called at Smith's gate, and Smith 
 w^ent out to see him. Grace had not seen her cousin since 
 the day he had promised to carry her back, which promise 
 he never came to fulfil, and now it was too late I Too late ! 
 Fatal vrords to some poor mortals in this uncertain world. 
 
 Grace and Smith's eldest daughter were standing in the 
 long piazza in front of his house, the daughter looking by 
 no means pleasant. 
 
 " Come out here, and answer for yourself," said Evans to 
 Mrs. Smith. Words to this day she does not understand. 
 
 He spoke to Smith of his trip abroad, and of some reli- 
 gious revivals he had witnessed during his absence, and said 
 -he, " Among the rest, I tried to get some religion myself." 
 
 Mrs. Smith was moved to hear these words from his lips ; 
 for she had felt a tender concern for her cousin's salvation, 
 and had prayed frequently for him. [N'ow, to hear this con- 
 fession from his own mouth, that he desired a portion of the 
 heavenly gift for himself, caused her tender heart to glow 
 and sympathy to flow. 
 
 The old domestics in the background of the picture said 
 among themselves, " Miss Grace and Massa Evans were en- 
 gaged ; now Miss Grace is sorry." What Smith thought on 
 that memorable day was unknown. His bride never knew 
 until two months later. Evans rode off, and even to Mrs. 
 Smith's unsuspecting eye he had a strange manner ; but she 
 could not tell why it was, for she had done him no wrong. 
 On the contrary, she thought the wrong lay at his own door. 
 6 . 
 
62 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 His failure to fulfil a promise which she thought ought to 
 have been, sacred to him, inasmuch as it had been made 
 from the beginning of their acquaintance. His going off, 
 and leaving her in a state of suspense, was cause sufiicient, 
 in our estimation, for her to have been much grieved with 
 him, if not offended. In this light it does seem to us others 
 will atso view it. Smith remarked that " Evans looked like 
 a distracted man." Evans's relations — who were also Mrs. 
 Smith's relatives — with one accord chose to be dissatisfied 
 on account of Smith's marriage. Why, we never knew, 
 and still more strange, as they had all, so far as we knew, 
 expressed themselves highly delighted with their newly- 
 found relation. Whether it was on Smith's account, or 
 because of his manner in the matter, never disclosing a word 
 of his intended marriage to any of them, is unknown. 
 
 One day, after the marriage, the grandfather of Mrs. 
 Smith happened to be at Evans's father's. They were first 
 cousins. Evans's father exclaimed : 
 
 " Well, I did not think Grace would have done so ! '* 
 
 " And she in the Methodist Church, too ! " 
 
 " My son Evans having gone away yonder, and brought 
 her out here, and now she has married Smith ! " 
 
 Bravo, good uncle ! what had that to do with your fair 
 cousin marrying whom she pleased? Because your son 
 had been kind to her, and had also neglected her when it 
 suited his convenience, did the former circumstance lay her 
 under such weighty obligations as to waive all her rights 
 to sit, stand, or lie still till he should go the world's rounds 
 and then return, and it follow, as a matter of course, that 
 she must be ready and waiting his pleasure, whatever that 
 might be? You were very much mistaken in your esti- 
 mate of your fair relation, if you thought thus. That brave 
 but quiet spirit partakes, perhaps, of some of your pride, 
 and w^ould not brook a slight from the nearest friend she 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 63 
 
 had on eaii:li, but would in some way, sooner or later, show 
 that she was neither callous nor insensible in the slightest 
 degree. AVhen she said nothing, she thought and felt the 
 more. Xo matter what were the causes, the relations were 
 said to be all in a stir and commotion. Smith said he had 
 seen it and heard it. His wife did not see it. 
 
 The day after their marriage, Smith went among some 
 of his first wile's relations — a sister to the first Mrs. Smith, 
 who had charge of his infant son. This lady was a kind 
 and friendly lady, yet thought her relationship gaye her 
 the priyilege of speaking her mind to Smith. She was yery 
 much incensed at him, and told him what she thought of 
 him ; but what she said of Mrs. Smith, we knew not. Smith 
 said to her, "Grace wished to come with me, and if she had, 
 and you had spoken thus, you would haye set her crying ; 
 and she and I would neyer haye set our feet in your house 
 again during life." This caused her to be silent. But poor 
 Grace, in her artless simplicity, haying done them no wrong 
 that she was conscious of, put on her bonnet, and told Smith 
 she wished to go with him to her cousin's, his sister-in-law, 
 to see both her and the little boy. But he requested her 
 not to go. Such conduct was well calculated to keep the 
 children in a ferment. They were angry at Smith because 
 he had consulted none of them; for he said they had 
 neglected both him and his children after their mother's 
 death ; and that, consequently, he felt under no obligations 
 to consult them about his second marriage. That he had 
 inyited, and eyen besought, their grandmother to come and 
 see them, and direct the children how to do ; for they were 
 young, and knew nothing of domestic business, and that 
 eyerything was wasting, and going to destruction about the 
 house. 
 
 But after Eyans rode off that neyer forgotten day, he said 
 to his young wife, " I see they are all mad ; and I don't 
 
64 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, * 
 
 care a cent about it, now I have got you ; and if they don't 
 mind, I will go to market, when I sell my cotton, and buy 
 one of the finest carriages I can find." This seemed to be 
 strange to Grace — kind and gentle in her disposition. She 
 did not understand this kind of spitework among relations. 
 And we are sure never desired any display, more than he 
 had shown to his first wife, to anger his children or her 
 relations. Truth, eternal truth, and justice, and even 
 sealed justice, were all that she wished. And if it were 
 meted to all our relations in life, how much misery and 
 sorrow might be prevented. But if they were mad, to use 
 Smith's phrase, and afraid of him, why, in the name of 
 heaven, vent it on his innocent wife, who knew him not as 
 they did, and who would, in all probability, judging from 
 the signs before her, have sorrow enough without their 
 added power to give pain? Had she, but two minutes 
 before the fatal knot was tied, license or no license, seen 
 but a little inkling of these hot-headed doings, and Smith's 
 disposition of spitework, that marriage would never have ^ 
 been deplored by either party. 
 
 Time passed on, and with it many occurrences never to 
 be forgotten. Sometime after this marriage, which was so 
 prolific of contention, Evans's mother and father passed by 
 Smith's house, on their way to the daughter who had Smith's 
 youngest child in charge. Neither of them stopped nor turned 
 their heads towards the house. This incensed Smith. 
 
 Next : his eldest daughter had a suitor, a young man of 
 some smartness ; thought by many to possess more conceit 
 than real talent. He had been quite polite to Mrs. Smith 
 before her marriage. She had nothing against him. But 
 Smith and his brother, and Evans, too, were very much 
 opposed to him. 
 
 Evans had never spoken of Smith's family on their trip 
 to this county, except in calling at his' eldest and half- 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 65 
 
 sister's by the way. Smith's eldest daughter being there, 
 he, by way of apology for her untutored appearance, saidT 
 she had had but few opportunities, as her father had gen- 
 erally lived in backwoods countries. This was not a very 
 favorable recommendation of Smith's manner of life with 
 his young and rising family. But now that this young man 
 was displeasing to him, he would threaten to cowhide his 
 daughter, chain her, and lock her up. 
 
 Mrs. Smith said to her husband, "This is not the best 
 course to pursue with your daughter. It will rather have 
 the effect contrary to your Avishes — that of driving her into 
 it. The mildest means are best. I should resort to these 
 first, at least." 
 
 Evans said to Smith his daughter might be more obsti- 
 nate because she was opposed to her father's marriage. 
 But she knew not of her father's marriage; and how 
 could she be opposed before it was too late ? Not pos- 
 sessing the most amiable disposition, and owing to her want 
 of piety and knowledge on the subject of her duty to her 
 father, she could not so easily acquiesce in what she con- 
 sidered an arbitrary use of power on his part. Almost any 
 child, who had been taught her duty no better than she 
 had, would have acted perversely on an occasion like this; 
 when she and her father's wife had been, without her knowl- 
 edge or consent, thrown pell-mell together, without previous 
 warning or introduction on either side, with regard to the 
 all-important matter of getting and bringing a new wdfe 
 into his family. But Smith seemed not to have considered 
 the matter in this light. Perhaps he cared not, so he ob- 
 tained his object; for he certainly knew, or ought to have 
 known, that his children would be opposed. It seems to 
 us now, after the lapse of many years, that he in this affair 
 took the advantage of all parties concerned, — wife, chil- 
 dren, relations, Evans, and all. But he, at least, knew what 
 6* E 
 
66 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 he was about. That was the reason he was in such haste to 
 have all things over ; for if he had waited only a few days, 
 there would have been a fly-off somewhere. Mrs. Smith 
 needed only to have seen his eldest daughter, and heard 
 her express a few words^ to have deterred her from it for- 
 ever ! But it was too late ! And it does seem to us that 
 any set of people, who did at all consider the peace and 
 happiness of one another, would have pursued a different 
 course, — a course that would have given rise to less dissen- 
 sion among the parties. 
 
 Smith appeared to be delighted with his wife, and to be 
 now, if never before^ eating the bread of heaven in connu- 
 bial- happiness. All that she did was well-pleasing to him, 
 and she seemed to be the light of his eye, the desire of his 
 heart, and pride of his life. Many times a day he would 
 say to her, " My dear, you please me exactly." And she, 
 on her part, put forth all her energies to please him and his 
 family. 
 
 Grace said to him the day they were married, while 
 riding home, "How I shall delight to take care of your 
 little children." 
 
 And he replied, " My dear, how well you will please me 
 in that." 
 
 But, alas ! all her honest efforts were unavailing from 
 some cause or other. Perhaps we may see by the time we 
 wade through all this sea of strife. 
 
 About this time a camp-meeting, sixteen miles distant, 
 was to come off. It is true, Mrs. Smith liked to go. Having 
 been a camp-meeting Methodist, such a place was desirable 
 to her. But Smith's inertness and lethargy caused him to 
 be disinclined to go. The great obstacle in the way was, 
 that he would not have a tent for the accommodation of 
 his family, and she had not had time yet to have all the 
 children clad as she desired. Although in delicate health, 
 she had, in less than two months, made nearly a hundred 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 67 
 
 garments for the family ; had the four daughters well pre- 
 pared, and the eldest son also ; had sat up till midnight, 
 while the father was snoring soundly., wrapped iu the arms 
 of Morpheus, as if nothing on earth troubled him, while 
 his poor, faithful, courageous wife was sewing, and fixing 
 bonnets and dresses for his youngest daughter as well as for 
 the others. All on her part was ready but the three little 
 boys. For these it had been impossible to have all neces- 
 sary clothing prepared. Mrs. Smith vras willing either way 
 — to go or stay, as her husband said. 
 
 There was one thing, however, which decided her. The 
 eldest daughter was anxious to go. The father said she 
 wished to go for the object of seeing her suitor, and he ob- 
 served to his wife, " Unless you go, she shall not go." This 
 caused the mother to go,Yeeble and nervous as she was from 
 too much work. She packed up, and set off with an unde- 
 fiuable feeling she could not account for, as though something 
 were going to happen, of which she could give no guess. 
 
 The daughter and mother went together, she driving six- 
 teen miles, through smoke and dust, vrith a severe headache; 
 the rest were with the father in another carriage. The three 
 little boys were left behind with an old domestic, with di- 
 rections to cook something for them like everything they 
 carried to the camp-meeting. Although the children's aunt, 
 who had the infant son, in her kindness had sent for Smith 
 and all his family to abide at her tent, yet Mrs. Smith 
 thought proper to take with them a considerable amount of 
 provisions, and some bedding. 
 
 But here let us pause, for this was a never-to-be-forgot- 
 ten camp-meeting to Mrs. Smith. And we can see that 
 although Smith consented to go, yet he was angiy that he 
 had not had cause or resolution, before his new wife, to say 
 he would not go. He did not like to yet, or perhaps had 
 not yet got angry enough with her to poke out his cloven 
 
68 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 foot, and show himself in his true colors. If a father had 
 raised a daughter to be sixteen, and could suspect her of 
 nothing but designs in going to a camp-meeting to see a 
 young man to whom she was attached, he of course judged 
 from his own way of having designs that way, and, as a mat- 
 ter of course, he could suspect others too. Up to this time 
 he had been remarkably kind to Mrs. Smith, and so loving, 
 that he had developed nothing in his nature of jealousy or 
 suspicion. At that time Mrs. Smith scarcely knew the 
 meaning of jealousy, and perhaps would as soon have 
 thought of the world coming to an end, as any jealousy or 
 suspicion on his part towards her, so all-devoted did he 
 seem to be to her ; and she gave him every proof any man 
 of sense would have asked of her fidelity in all things. She 
 made no visits, saw no company but him and his crowd at 
 home, and worked both day and night, as before stated, for 
 them. She did cast in her mind, sometimes, what kind of 
 bearing he had towards his children, and thought him 
 wrong many times, but extended her thoughts no farther. 
 She knew not, dreamed not, that a demon big as Gehenna 
 slept in his bosom, and ere long was to devastate every ves- 
 tige of future happiness for her and others for all coming 
 time. The relations and children, from his version of the 
 case, had been evidently much to blame in strewing the 
 husks of swine in his way, when his moral stamina was not 
 sufiicient to resist any opposing current in his way ; although 
 he certainly was to blame, as a first cause, more than any 
 one else. Through his hasty designs of right or wrong, 
 pleased or displeased, he got a wife with whom he said he 
 was pleased. Why not stay pleased ? Why hunt up some 
 foreign cause or pretext for throwing off his superfluous or 
 diseased humors ? 
 
 Mrs. Smith never thought of any trouble coming to her 
 through her husband. Innocent and gentle as a lamb, and 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 69 
 
 confiding as a child, all lier severe tasks as a mother, and 
 mistress of some forty or fifty in fiimily, seemed light to her 
 courageous nature, as did the fourteen years of servitude to 
 young Jacob for his beautiful Eachel ; and her husband 
 was continually praising her, and calling her endearing 
 names. But it is apparent, now, that his selfish nature vras 
 vexed because his family had gone to the camp-meeting, 
 and had disturbed his equilibrium of quiet. Provided he 
 gained his objects, he cared not to be disturbed by the 
 claims of others. 
 
 The next Sabbath after they were married, he sat eating 
 peaches, and his wife suffering, and even writhing in pain 
 and almost agony. Shortly after, on another Sabbath, when 
 she could but weep because he would not go to church 
 with them, he rose up out of his slumbers, even of a Sab- 
 bath morning, and said, "Are all the women in the vrorld 
 alike? Take the horses, the mules, the carriage, the chil- 
 dren, and the negroes to wait on you all, and go. I do not 
 wish to go." As much as to say, "Let me alone." He was 
 not going to town now to get his carriage mended, and to 
 bring home a new wife to his family. Thus she was com- 
 pelled, if she went at all, to go in company with the chil- 
 dren and negroes. And at this camp-meeting he was doubt- 
 less afraid that his beautiful wife, as he called her, would be 
 seen by some of her former admirers. She had been as closely 
 confined at home, even after her marriage, as was possible 
 for her to be ; and had she had the most distant suspicion 
 of such a thing now, we know she never would have gone 
 to that cami^-meeting. Still, of what avail would it have 
 been? The smothered fire was in his heart, and was sure 
 to break forth some day, cause or no cause, excuse or 
 no excuse. In fact, jealousy needs no cause but imaginary 
 ones. 
 
 "Trifles light as air are, to ilie jealou?, 
 Confirmations strong as proofs of Holy Writ ; " 
 
70 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEK, 
 
 for from the day of Evans's strange manner in riding off, 
 Mrs. Smith saw him no more till at this camp-meeting. 
 And we know if she had ever thought her husband enter- 
 tained any jealousy concerning him, she would have hid 
 herself at home. Her self-immolation on the altar of his 
 selfishness and jealousies had already commenced in his not 
 wishing her to go anywhere — not going himself, nor wish- 
 ing her to go without him. But she knew it not. 
 
 Not long after their arrival at the encampment, Evans 
 and his friend came. They were glad to meet Mrs. Smith. 
 One of them, Evans's friend, had not seen her since her 
 marriage. Her conduct is remembered well while at this 
 camp-meeting ; for had she been in the immediate presence 
 of God and his holy angels, she could have been no more 
 prudent. Not that she feared aught. This was her every- 
 day course. " Thou God seest me " was in her public walks 
 and private ways. In the evening of the same day, her 
 friends came around her numerously, — old admirers, 
 young ladies and girls, her former pupils and lady asso- 
 ciates. She sat by the kitchen fire, it being quite cold, still 
 doing something she had not finished for some of the little 
 girls. The young ladies and pupils followed her there. 
 
 At night, her miserable headache returned — originating 
 from her over-fatigue and incessant toil and excitement, all 
 of which unstrung her delicate nerves, and laid her pros- 
 trate on her bed. She called her husband to her, and 
 requested him to stay with her. He sat awhile, and then 
 went out. He, too, wished to be with friends. Unsuspect- 
 ing wife I she did not dream he could be jealous of her 
 friends ! Evans came once and asked after her health. The 
 next day she was better, and came out into the open part 
 of the tent. Her welfare was again inquired after by 
 Evans, as well as by many others. 
 
 A bright and cheering day it was, although the chill of 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 71 
 
 October frosts was on the ground. She looked abroad at 
 the skies before her, being temporarily relieved of her un- 
 pleasant nervous headache. She say/ the glorious sun in 
 his majesty ; her eyes and heart ever took in full draughts 
 of all the beauty in nature's changes from one season to 
 another ; and although something was before her, yet no 
 herald from either world harbingered to her the dreadful 
 volcano over which she was walking, or the powder-plot that 
 was erelong to explode, to the utter demolition of every 
 hope of peace and happiness she could ever have anticipated 
 in the married life again with Smith. 
 
 The weather, as before said, being very cold for October, 
 her feet became constantly very cold as soon as she was 
 away from the fire ; consequently, she frequently returned 
 to the tent, sometimes before the sermon was ended, after 
 going to the stand for divine service. She dreaded a return 
 of her miserable nervous headaches to which she was so 
 subject, and in truth, in justice to her own self-preserva- 
 tion and to hei* situation, would have been infinitely better 
 off at home. So much for obliging others at our own ex- 
 pense. 
 
 A camp-ground, where God's people meet once a year for 
 worship, was indeed no objectionable place to this young 
 Methodist lady, and such a thing as leaving the stand was 
 never thought of by her before till the very last were dis- 
 persing, nor would have been thought of, much less carried 
 into execution, if her sufierings had not rendered it abso- 
 lutely necessary. To this all people who knew her, and of 
 her regular and faithful attendance on divine service, would 
 bear witness. Smith almost invariably followed her to the 
 tent, of which circumstance she thought nothing at all at 
 the time, except that he wished to be with her. Years 
 after, when she became familiar with his looks and ways, 
 she knew and understood what his designs were — he was 
 
72 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 was watching ! And, O God, what did he have to watch ? 
 A poor, innocent-minded woman, who was as pure as the 
 angels of God, so far as carnal corruption was concerned, 
 and as chaste, even in thought, as the virgin snow. We 
 now wish we had all tJiese libidinous, zealous sinners at our 
 command. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE GPvEEN-EYED MONSTEK. 
 
 ON the Sabbath afternoon of the meeting, Grace met with 
 a dear, lovely old acquaintance — one who had known 
 her from her childhood up. She walked with her from the 
 stand to the tent where the lady was staying, but tarried 
 only a little while, and then came to the tent where she 
 abode. Her husband, with many others, was sitting on the 
 outside of the front of the tent. Grace took a seat near 
 him. Evans and his friend were not present. At night, 
 after every precaution used by her, she was attacked by a 
 nervous headache again, and in consequence did not go to 
 the stand at all this time for preaching, but sat near the fire 
 outside the tent, with her head reposing on her husband's 
 knee. When the hour for retirement arrived, she requested 
 her relation to make an exception in the order of her 
 arrangements, and let her husband remain with her ; and 
 her relation complied kindly with her request, for being 
 very much crowded, she had lodged all her feminine friends 
 together, and the males the same way. Mrs. Smith wished 
 her husband with her, because she was always happier when 
 he was with her, especially when she was suffering. 
 
 The next morning being Monday, they were to return 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 73 
 
 home, and leave the children behind with their aunt. This 
 was both ungenerous and unkind, as the poor wife had just 
 recovered a little from the fatigue of going ; and now, after 
 her headache had somewhat abated, she would have been in 
 a good way to hear preaching. She must now break off, as 
 in the midst of a good feast to a hungry person. But she 
 said not a word of objection to it. In the meantime, an- 
 other old friend and female acquaintance of hers met with 
 Smith, and told him he must bring Grace around to see her 
 before they left. He complied without any request at all 
 on Mrs. Smith's part, and called on her old friend. By the 
 time this call was ended, the trumpet sounded for the eleven 
 o'clock service. Smith again, of his own accord, said they 
 could remain until that sermon was over, and then reach 
 their home in good time in the afternoon. They remained. 
 It was one of those powerful sermons which we sometimes 
 hear, that tell to all the glorious news of salvation in the 
 most pleasing and acceptable manner — one that Mrs. Smith 
 enjoyed very much. It was delivered by that excellent 
 man, C N , since gone to glory, who so much re- 
 minded her of the fathers of the gospel, under the sound of 
 whose gracious voice she had been reared. 
 
 When they returned to the tent, Smith was eager to be 
 
 going home. But Mrs. C , his sister-in-law, said they 
 
 should not leave until they had eaten dinner. And thus, 
 while she was busy in preparation, Mrs. Smith had, on en- 
 tering the tent, taken a seat near the door. Evans's friend 
 came in, and standing near her, in his usual low, soft tones 
 was speaking of the sermon, and praising it. But Grace, 
 as she often did, when getting her spirits deeply imbued 
 with the love and grace of God, after sitting under the 
 droppings of the sanctuary, scarcely spoke a word, but now 
 and then gave her assent to some of his eulogies on the ser- 
 mon, and would greatly have preferred to be left alone, and 
 7 
 
74 BREAD OF HEAVEJT^ 
 
 to sit quietly musing on the sermon, than to speak a single 
 word. But she could not, without manifest impoliteness, tell 
 him not to talk, or get up and go oif, leaving him talking. 
 She saw her husband pass, to and fro by her several 
 times through the tent, as though he was in a perturbed 
 state of rnind ; but she thought he was only in a hurry about 
 getting off home. Having never seen him in any of his 
 moods, she understood him not, and took no further notice 
 of them. But, O Lord God of mercy, in after days she 
 knew what these moods meant. It meant that the fires of 
 Gehenna were burning in his unholy soul ; and for the tem- 
 porary restraint, and opposition to his leechful ways of 
 having stayed at home, as was his wish, there was a twofold 
 volcano foaming up within, ready to burst on some devoted 
 victim's head. Many years after, she could see the venom 
 leering out of the eyes of this green-headed monster, in retro- 
 spect, and wonder that she had not been devoured by it. 
 She was the victim ; but, like all cowards, he bided his time. 
 
 At the dinner-table, Evans carved the turkey, and said 
 to Mrs. Smith, first of all, " Cousin Grace, will you be helped 
 to some of the turkey ? " Gracious mercy and wonderful 
 heavens, what did hinder the monster then from leaping 
 upon all, and especially his all - unconscious victim, and 
 devouring them ? Ah, no ! bide your time, Mr. Greeny ; 
 too many people will see you here, and then those whose 
 happiness and opinions you have so lately set at naught 
 will be astonished ; and even her enemies, if she has any 
 besides your allies, will see clearly your very culpable con- 
 duct. But Mrs. Smith was as yet as unconscious of this state 
 of mind of her so late overweening and flattering lord as 
 the unborn infant. God pity the woman the wife of a 
 jealous man ! for of all miserable situations on earth this 
 side of pandemonium, it is one the most so ! While Smith 
 was getting the carriage in readiness, her friends from the 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWISB. 
 
 75 
 
 next adjoining tent sent for her — her feminine jrie-ads, 
 and she ran to bid them good-bye ; for Mrs. Smith was a 
 woman much beloved by all who knew her best. "^^Iiile 
 she was in that tent, she met with the preacher, the Rev.^Ir. 
 
 C- H , who had preached the good sermon in the 
 
 morning, 
 
 "Sister Smith," said he, ''you will be fine, married or un- 
 married." For he had seen her at another camp-meeting, 
 in another county, before her marriage. She replied to 
 him : 
 
 " ^Vhy, what is wrong in my dre-ss, Brother H ? " 
 
 ^' Oh," said he, " you will do very well, if you will take 
 off that veil and those curls?" 
 
 And further, he said, " I wish some of our good Method- 
 ist married sisters to set an example in this matter, and why 
 not you ? " 
 
 What would some of our Methodist sisters say to this in 
 these days ? And why not she, indeed, who was generally 
 as plainly dressed as possible ? But there is an elegance 
 about some people's dre,ss, plain or not plain, that attracts 
 the notice of the fastidiously plain. 
 
 Grace then bade them all a hasty good-bye, and ran to 
 the other tent ( which was only a step or two) to do the 
 same there, and then looked around for her husband, whom 
 she expected was by this time waiting for her. But behold, 
 he was some distance from the tent, standing at the carriage, 
 as if he were in the act of starting off, instead of coming for 
 her. "Wonder if he would have acted in this manner the 
 day he was, as it were, stealing to town, with the ostensible 
 excuse to his children that he was going to get his carriage 
 mended? She hurried to him unattended, feeling more 
 awkwardly than she ever did in her life before. For an 
 elegant woman like she was then, with many gallant ad- 
 mirers before her marriage, had never had the mortification 
 
76 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 of walking that distancey before a gazing crowd, unattended , 
 as if she had to go for attention, instead of attention coming 
 to her. He looked so strangely on her reaching the car- 
 riage that she did not understand it at all. She was yet alto- 
 gether ignorant of the green-eyed demon swelling up in his 
 unholy breast ! Wonder what bystanders thought of his 
 inattention to his new wife — he who had been so obse- 
 quiously attentive to her in obtaining her. But as we never 
 heard, we cannot tell their thoughts, for none in all that 
 section of country ever heard of his jealous fit but his poor 
 wife ; and if his first wife's relations thought anything about 
 his appearance on this occasion, they kept their thoughts 
 within themselves. They set off together — the vulture and 
 the lamb. But there was again an indefinable feeling about 
 this good woman's heart, who would not have done harm 
 to any, nor anything wrong on earth, if she knew it. She 
 simply thought him displeased about something, but what 
 that something was she knew not. And as she had never 
 displeased him that she knew of, she could not think it was 
 with her he was angry. He commenced talking ; and she 
 thought she would say something cheerily to appease him, 
 if he were angry ; nor did she think it prudent to notice 
 this piece of neglect, as it was the first, except not going 
 with her to church soon after they were married. 
 
 Little did the poor woman dream that her sun of matri- 
 monial happiness was to set so soon in obscurity and total 
 darkness forever ! Oh, never, never can she, to her latest 
 day, forget the anguish caused her then by words which fell 
 from his unhallowed and unjust lips ! He gave her to 
 understand he was jealous of her cousin Evans, and did not 
 like his friend talking with her ! Such doings in civilized 
 life ! How utterly unworthy he here proved himself to be 
 of such a woman for a wife ! A thing is either just or un- 
 just. If there had been the least cause for all this, save in 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 77 
 
 Ms o-^n distorted mind, then there might have been some 
 palliation. But there was not the shadow of a cause — even, 
 her enemies, if she then had a.nY, being judges. A woman 
 must not look nor crook her finger with some. But she 
 had not even looked, nor turned her finger, towards a single 
 one of the whole male world after their marriage ; and he 
 Jcnev: he married a woman chaste as the virgin snow. And 
 we do declare, when we think of this monstrous wrong, and 
 subsequent ones, (for the end is not yet,; we cannot forbear 
 forever hating the memory of his foul deeds I O ye honored, 
 and lovely, and beloved wives, without jealousy mixed up 
 with it all, think of this I This tender-hearted woman, 
 whose sensitive soul was quick, as the apple of an eye, the 
 fir-t approach of sin or sorrow to leel, what must have 
 been her anguish ? All her life she had wished, whenever 
 she shotild enter the matrimonial state, for such happiness 
 as she was capable of enjoying. Xow she had staked all ; 
 the die was cast, and behold this was the fate I 
 
 Sometimes we have wi.-hed that she had sufiered him to 
 have gone ofi' without her, as he did not have politeness 
 enough to return lor her. and behold what capers he would 
 have cut, in what manner he would have disgorged his 
 jealousies. Wonder if he would have avowed them openly? 
 Fur that he never did. 2N o ; it was in the secret chamber 
 her ear alone and the surrounding breezes must hear his 
 eloquence in this great divulgement. Lov:, grovelling, sen- 
 sual as the flesh and Satan could make him, how could he 
 judge of others only by his own heart — his filthy heart. 
 
 His innocent wife had heard, after their marriage, foul 
 things of him and his servants. And did she make a gain 
 of them ? Xo, she heeded them not, nor would hardly have 
 believed it unless she had seen it, but, in truth, thought it 
 almost contamination for any one to hint such a thing to 
 her, and so away with it 1 But oh, the death that came 
 
78 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 over her heart's best affections, as those witheririg, unjust 
 words came out of his mouth ! She was, as it were, stunned 
 to death ; and if it had been possible for her to have died a 
 thousand deaths, none could have affected her as this sad 
 case did. Here was the blight of all her earthly happi- 
 ness ! Her dear mother was more than a hundred miles off ; 
 none of her sisters were near ; among comparative strangers ; 
 and although many professed much friendship, yet such is 
 the delicacy of even legitimate feelings in the true woman's 
 breast, the truly sensitive and refined and educated seldom 
 telj aught of their sorrows from home. Such, also, is the 
 nature of earthly friendship, that one hardly arrives at the 
 age of twenty before he or she fears to lay open the most 
 sacred feelings of the heart, lest he or she might, instead 
 of sympathy, meet a stab, a fresh wound ; and there is little 
 reliance to be placed in them in a day of trouble. Had the 
 world heard it from her mouth, friends would have pitied, 
 and enemies, if she then had any, would have rejoiced. Here 
 v/as a case in which none could help. Even legitimate 
 feelings in her breast were too sacred in her estimation for 
 disclosure. Thus, like her divine Master, this was one cup 
 she must drink alone. This wine-press she must tread alone ; 
 of all the people there cotdd be none with her in this case. 
 She had married a husband, and she intended to love him, 
 and be entirely devoted to him. But now the very foun- 
 tain of her tears was stanched. Delirium for a while 
 seized her ; her head swam, her brain grew dizzy ; and we 
 wonder now, considering her extreme tenderness of heart 
 and exquisite sensibility, she had not jumped out of the 
 carriage from her inhuman - persecutor, and ran from him 
 a wild and raving maniac ! Though rave she hardly ever 
 would have done. She would sooner have died in mute 
 sorrow. For she had thought all her life, whenever the 
 subject of jealousy was discussed in her hearing^' that she 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 79 
 
 never would live with a man wlio was jealous. Of which 
 matter she knew nothing. 
 
 But now behold her helpless situation, of which her cruel, 
 inhuman, perjured protector was well aware ; and hence he 
 assaulted her, as he thought, with impunity. He, her law- 
 ful husband and protector, had expressed himself as being 
 jealous of her. To, whom could she appeal ? She never 
 could be happy with him again. He had sent a canker to 
 her heart that would eat out all truly conjugal, confiding 
 love from her soul ; for love for love, confidence for confi- 
 dence, and trust for trust, were her maxims. And such 
 they ought to be forever ; for how can love, the divine 
 sentiment, exist without mutual confidence. But that baser 
 sort of love some men have was the kind he seemed to pos- 
 sess. He would abuse and threaten her one moment, and 
 the next cajole and caress. But not so with his noble- 
 minded wife. Had there been the slightest cause for it, she 
 might have borne it. Is ow, she never could be happy with 
 him again. She was too high-minded to feel on equality 
 with such sordid doings, such desecration of all the most 
 holy affections of the heart. Kor was she ever entirely 
 happy with him again. Duriug the space of fifteen or six- 
 teen long and weary years that she dwelt with him, she 
 never beheld him but that she thought of that awful 
 cruelty, and many other unpardonable things he did after- 
 wards. And we have often thought, in view of all she suf- 
 fered in after days, whether it would not have been better 
 for her if she had, then and there, left him for ever! 
 
 " Ah ! " says one, — an inhuman one, doubtless, — " Gan 
 a man ever do anything to a wife that is unpardonable ? " 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so, good sir, whoever you are. You think 
 if he were to cut her head off*, or cut her throat, he may be 
 pardoned. But how would you like it, vice versa f You 
 would be for hanging her, no doubt. Well, this unnatural 
 
80 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 quarrel between you and your wives will be settled some 
 day. The good Lord expressly tells you to love your wives, 
 and be not bitter against them. And it does not say with- 
 out cause, either, or with cause. Many of you can be bit- 
 terer than the wormwood and gall, with no cause under 
 heaven but your own evil hearts." 
 
 We are sure that not a single person at that fatal camp- 
 meeting who did at all take cognizance of her behavior, how- 
 ever envious, but would have borne testimony to her prudent 
 conduct. And it does seem to us that none but a most 
 reckless madman, the most debased wretch, would even have 
 thought anything amiss, much less said anything on such an 
 awful subject ; for we hold it good, that we are not always 
 justifiable in speaking all thoughts that may present them- 
 selves, unless pure thoughts, lest we err, and thus wrong 
 some one, as was done now. An irreparable and never- 
 ending wrong in this world was inflicted on that confiding 
 young spirit without the shadow of a cause other than a 
 vicious heart and an evil eye, — one that imagined it saw evil 
 in everything ; and this one her husband, for whom she had 
 so lately forsaken all, and to whom she had clung, before 
 thisjwith the tenacity of life. But she was murdered now, 
 — almost literally butchered. And if she never could love 
 him as before, no one was to blame but himself. She had no 
 worthy object now to love, and therefore she could not love 
 him as she had done ; hence she scorned the idea of love 
 altogether. And as to loving another while united to him, 
 the very thought would have been treason in her view. 
 
 Perhaps some one will say this came of marrying one so 
 much older than herself Not so fast, our dear caviller. 
 We have seen a young man, not twenty, (his lovely bride 
 not eighteen,) get into such awful fits of madness also, 
 without cause, at "trifles light as air." It may b.e a spark 
 of the ever-burning fires of jealousy was at the bottom of his 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 81 
 
 heart ; for this fair young bride loved lier young husband 
 with all the tenacity of a devotion that ought to have 
 been bestowed upon her Maker alone. An old graudsire 
 used to say, " Can't learn old dogs new tricks ; " but this 
 young one seemed to have had all the elements of the young 
 and old cur in snarling and snapping, and the double of the 
 obstinate mule and sulky old oxen, even at that tender age. 
 What do you think of that? No rule without exceptions, 
 say you. And we do declare that one of the happiest mar- 
 riages we ever saw, was where the man Avas the senior of the 
 woman by twenty years. But he was a man, — the noblest 
 work of God. He was all that his Maker intended him to 
 be in that relation, at least — a gentleman, and a good hus- 
 band. And the lady a good woman, an excellent woman, but 
 no better than our heroine of these pages. Moreover, the 
 father of our own great Washington was twenty-four years 
 older than his beautiful young wife, the mother of our im- 
 mortal father of his country, who was only sixteen when 
 she married the elder Washington at forty-four years of 
 age. Perhaps none will dispute this historical fact. Con- 
 geniality, then, is the basis of true and lasting friendship. 
 Besides, wbat would that old gentleman of the old school . 
 have thought of himself, if he had thrown himself into a 
 fit of madness because some other gentleman or gentlemen 
 spoke to his beautiful wife? What would others have 
 thought of him ? 
 
 Perhaps you will say we were not there to see. We grant 
 that. Neither saw any how Mr. Napoleon Smith acted towards 
 his beautiful wife. And we do claim for her, Mrs. Grace 
 Smith, that she had the elements of as great a character, as 
 good a woman, as Mrs. Washington the elder, Mrs. George 
 Washington, Queen Victoria, or any other lady who ever ' 
 inhabited this world on either side of the " deep blue sea." 
 Besides, if Mr. Washington had been such an imbecile, his- 
 
82 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 tory would have handed down the offensive story to us. 
 Albeit, he would have published it himself, if he could 
 have got no one else to have done it. He would have 
 divulged it by some of his wild freaks, which would have 
 been too good for the " reporters " to have passed. 
 
 But if too much of a bad thing will not nauseate, there 
 is in our memory a tale of this kind, which we heard some 
 of the best of our sex tell our mothers in days past, one 
 whose beautiful aunt was married to a brute of this kind. 
 He never would allow his wife to attend to any domestic 
 duty whatever — not even attend to the kitchen by over- 
 looking the servants, nor even let the sun shine on her, thus 
 enhancing her fair beauty. And if by any means, veiled 
 and shrouded from the sun, he walked out with her, any 
 gentleman happened to be walking on the side next to his 
 wife, he would immediately wheel her to the opposite side. 
 He never allowed her either to see or speak to a gentleman ; 
 till finally, one day, he took his gun and deliberately lev- 
 elled it at his wife. It went off, and she fell ; and then he 
 fired on himself, which last shot was better directed than 
 the other. He was kil led — killed himself ; but, fortunately, 
 the ball, the other ball, had missed his wife. She was not 
 killed ! And we were glad in our own hearts that his poor 
 victim did not share his terrible fate. 
 
 Another case of later date came to our ears, one day, 
 not a great while ago. A jealous man asked his wife to 
 walk out with him. He took her a long distance into a 
 solitary wood, where mortal ear could not hear, and where 
 he had already dug a grave. He told his wife he was going 
 to kill her. Her entreaties for life were in vain, as she was 
 out of the reach of human voice or sound. He killed the 
 poor woman in cold blood, and buried her, because he was 
 jealous of her ! And then, behold ! after her life was taken, 
 and he never could restore it, he discovered his jealousies 
 were all without cause ! 
 
AXD HUSKS 
 
 OF SWIXE. 
 
 83 
 
 If our readers could bear another case, there is one in our 
 memory, perhaps more appalling than all. In one of our 
 beloved States, one in T^-hich ^ye ^vere reared and educated, 
 there lived a prominent man, v\]io in his youth vras thought 
 one of the steadiest and best young men of all that section. 
 Subsequently he married a beautiful woman. For some 
 reason, he became jealous, with or without cause we know 
 not ; but we have been told it was without cause or provo- 
 cation on her part. One night, while she was asleep in 
 quiet, her infant babe reposing on her arm, he arose from 
 the bed whereon these innocent and helpless ones all uncon- 
 sciously lay, charged his weapon, whatever it was, and de- 
 liberately shot his beautiful wife, who was found next morn- 
 ing with the smiling babe all immersed in its mother's 
 blood. Does this fill the picture, or shall we bring forward 
 any more of these horrid details ? Let this suffice for the 
 present. And these are adduced to prove to our kind 
 readers, if proof were needed, that when jealousy takes 
 possession of a man's heart, it is worse than the "legion" 
 that possessed the man among the tombs. 
 
 But to return to our main story. Yes, Mrs. Smith would 
 have thought it higii treason indeed, after all this cruelty 
 on Smith's part, to have even thought of another/ But who 
 appreciates this exalted view of conjugal love? After she 
 began to recover from the giddiness and whirl of her brain, 
 she spoke mildly to him, for anger could not rise in her 
 bosom. She was too near dead for that. " Let me alone," said 
 he, " I will strike you with the butt of the whip ! " Wretch ! 
 you grasped the object you said you so much loved, and 
 called beautiful, through chicanery, subtlety, and design, for 
 fear, it seems, that some other might get her, and then retorted 
 on her in this manner. " X o wonder the children may have 
 something against you I " AYhy did you not find that out 
 before, Mr. Smith ? for we vow before the Almighty, to 
 
84 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 whom all hearts are open, the children never had, never 
 could have, the least idea of anything wrong in her, unless 
 they, in their selfishness, blamed her for marrying him. If 
 she had opposed him in some of his lecherous ways, which 
 were as revolting to her nice sense and modesty, and views 
 of how parents should deport themselves before their chil- 
 dren, there might have been some developments of pande- 
 monium before she went to that camp-meeting ; yes, as 
 revolting to her high, good sense of propriety as Gehenna 
 itself. There was no fault on her part ; and all the holier, 
 more delicate feelings of the modest and refined woman 
 were often outraged when she saw his rude, unmannerly, 
 and unlady-like children peeping and peering about into 
 chambers when their parents had retired. This was one 
 picture, very delicately and partially drawn, of their beha- 
 vior. The true picture, in all its colors and bearings, would 
 be too outrageous to be drawn on any paper for the eye of 
 the public. 
 
 Great God ! Who are you, thou base man, " for to the 
 base all things are base," or your so lately despised chil- 
 dren, either ? You are not fit to have such a woman in your 
 unholy domains. For we believe in our soul, that thou, 
 awful man, knewest the dispositions of your children, and 
 that they would raise a young perdition, if you married any 
 person. Had they not told you so ? and was not this the 
 reason you entered into this marriage so secretly ? For had 
 they raised the hue and cry just one minute before, you 
 never, never would have had it in your power to have 
 retorted after this manner. And then, too, to be always 
 pretendingly angry with those very amiable children, be- 
 cause they did not immediately acquiesce in what, to them, 
 must have appeared unjustifiable secrecy and haste. You 
 should have set them a better example, and then perhaps 
 they would have treated you with filial piety. Out upon 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 85 
 
 you for a craven, that could not bear the close scrutiny of 
 the eyes of children who ought to have been beloved by you. 
 And then as soon as it was convenient to your jealous mind 
 — for being crossed a little in getting you from home, for the 
 sake of your eldest and protendedly much beloved daugh- 
 ter — you could imagine a dreadful crime against your 
 already suffering wife, and charge it to her. Xo wonder 
 there was a great revulsion in her honest bosom. 
 
 Reader, these details are as true as the sun ever shone in 
 the firmament of heaven ! And we are very much of the 
 opinion, that had the wife been out of the question, and he had 
 not been married, if he could have been induced at all, not 
 having the momentary influence of a new wife, to go to that 
 camp-meeting, his eldest daughter would have shared his 
 wrath. Upon her devoted head would have fallen in full 
 force his pent-up, smothered anger; for had he not pursued 
 this course in his former wife's lifetime? The old domestics 
 had a saying behind his back, that " Mistress said, when- 
 ever Master attended a camp-meeting, or had much com- 
 pany for meeting occasions, he was sure to set the planta- 
 tion afire afterwards." The temporary suspension from 
 labor by the servants was to his covetous mind so much 
 loss of this World's goods. A nice way to convert his wife 
 and family ! No wonder he induced no more of them to 
 follow his Christian course. Just such a course sent a 
 revulsion into her true soul (this present wife) as wide 
 apart as our antipodes ; for was he not the antipodes of her 
 soul? How then could they walk together in unison? 
 Henceforth their bodies were together, but their souls as far 
 apart as one pole from the other. His daughter might not 
 (in case he had not had in possession his present victim) 
 have felt the overwhelming storm of his jealousy, for none 
 could feel that but a wife ; but we venture the assertion that 
 she would have got a good share about her suitor, whom he 
 8 
 
86 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 said slie wished to go to that camp-meeting to see. O in- 
 consistency and imbecility without a precedent ! "We do 
 believe it was the most unjustifiable lust that principally 
 induced him to contract this marriage, his great praise of 
 her beauty and competency in pleasing him " in all things," 
 to the contrary notwithstanding. But now, henceforth, 
 there was a great desert ; her soul in holy musings tried to 
 dwell in thought with her God, and let him grovel on about 
 the world. Would that she could have abstracted her 
 mind more from all things here below, and dwelt alone with 
 God. But the thing was morally impossible, situated as 
 she was — surrounded by household cares and duties, and 
 in the midst of children and servants. None of the duties 
 belonging to either did she neglect. She toiled herself to 
 weariness and fatigue, too much to be borne by one so 
 feeble, as she did before that camp-meeting. In less than 
 two months she had done more work than some women 
 would have performed in a year, fixing and preparing his 
 children's clothes when he was asleep. And then to meet 
 with such an awful return from him. No wonder that she 
 did now wish she had never seen him or his children either, 
 rather than to have been borne down upon and oppressed 
 all her days. ♦ 
 
 She did not go after him, never thought of such a thing 
 until wooed by him. But this was only the beginnings of 
 sorrow. And she now remembered a little . circumstance 
 which took place shortly after they were married. One 
 morning, while lying on a couch in the dining-room, being 
 very much indisposed, while the family were at the break- 
 fast-table, the eldest son, in breaking some bread, happened 
 to take all the crust oflT. The father spoke angrily, and 
 scolded him severely for so trivial a thing, as if it had been 
 a crime instead of an accident. The wdfe, a silent looker 
 on, thought within herself, " Is that the way he has raised 
 
a>;d husks of swixe. 
 
 87 
 
 his son? Is that the way he talks to him for so light an 
 offence ?" The prospect looked unfavorable in the distance, 
 yet not more so than true in the sequel. A small index, 
 but a true one, to worse coming events, and to her quiet, 
 but quick forecast into the distant future it looked gloomy, 
 gloomy — ah! indeed, gloomy. And then the son thought 
 she had been the cause of it, as if no angry words ever 
 passed between them before. And v^ by did he think the 
 wife had been the cause of it? Because he had committed 
 a wrong to her himself, and therefore thought she had told 
 his father. "Like father, like son." Guilty consciences 
 need no accusing. A true proverb. And we remember 
 well the words of that son to his father's wife. One day, 
 previous to the camp-meeting so frequently alluded to, 
 something else occurred similar to the scene at the table. 
 She was vindicating her husband's conduct to the son, or at 
 least endeavoring so to do, as she thought husband and wife 
 ought to be as much united as possible in their family gov- 
 ernment. "Ah I" said the son, "you don't know Pa. You 
 will find him out after awhile." 
 
 After awhile! And were they not true and prophetic 
 words ? Did not the son know the father ? And can we 
 believe the father knew not the son? How many acts of 
 rebellion were already in their family history's page before 
 they knew there was such a creature in the world as their 
 father's present wife ? But more of this hereafter, as this 
 book is to be exclusively devoted to the delineation of the 
 jealous man, who was now partaking of the husks of the 
 swine, or, more properly, the ashes of the apples of Sodom — 
 jealousy in secret, in word and deed ; for all this time no 
 one knew of it but himself and his victimized wife. 
 
 O eternity! eternity! thy duration in sorrow^ is the cause 
 of the pangs endured by the sufferers there confined ! 
 
 On they journey from that memorable camp-meeting, the 
 
88 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 young wife swimming in woe. They arrive at home. The 
 sun was setting. True emblem of her heart — her happi- 
 ness had gone down, had set, too ! For, oh how changed ! 
 To her long vision it was but the prison-house of Tophet, 
 which it in reality proved almost to her. All nature was 
 turned into gloom, as it hung in autumnal brown — the 
 brown, the scathe, and sear; the fall and winter of years 
 was on her heart. And she grew older under those wither- 
 ing influences in one short month than she had all her life 
 before. 
 
 In the yard, as they alighted from the carriage, they were 
 met by an old domestic, whom Mrs. Smith had no particu- 
 lar reason to think was her friend ; though she had, when 
 the new mistress happened to please her, professed to be 
 such. Perhaps Mrs. Smith expected more than could be 
 realized from servants who had been managed as these had; 
 especially this old servant. She never had been accustomed 
 to servants railing out at their owners. This went far to 
 explain her views about this old negress. But now, as she 
 turned her face towards this old servant, she burst into tears, 
 the first she had shed since the awful disclosures by the 
 way. Nor could she have restrained them now, if her life 
 had been at stake. The servant knew not for what she 
 wept ; for she could not do as her predecessor had done, 
 make these old servants her confidants. She thought it 
 treason to her marriage vows ; and, moreover, since the 
 death of the former Mrs. Smith, she found they had not 
 been true friends to her. But such a change had come over 
 her heart since she left the old servant, only two days, that 
 she could not but weep. And then her surcharged heart 
 was a little relieved of its weight. The flood-gates were 
 lifted from her heart, and out gushed the waters from her 
 eyes ; before, it had been tearless agony. Now Smith was 
 eating the husks of swine in all its satisfying, appetizing 
 plenitude. At night he persecuted her again, and said : 
 
ASD HUSKS OF SWINE» 
 
 89 
 
 " You must acknowledge it." 
 
 "Acknowledge what, Mr. Smith? Sir/' said she, "tliat 
 I never, never will do ! How can I? I am conscious of no 
 ■svrong to acknowledge. Eternity itself shall burst upon 
 me in all its truthful glare, and I shall still attest my inno- 
 cence of even an improper thought, much less action. I 
 think it just as criminal to tell a slanderous lie on myself 
 as on any one else. And you niay rest assured, sir, that I 
 uill not utter a base falsehood on myself, or on any one 
 else." 
 
 This kind of resolute language rather quelled him, as 
 cowards always are by a brave course of conduct ; for what 
 did the infatuated and imbecile man want ? To extort from 
 her some acknowledgment, some whining, crying, and run- 
 ning after him, as he said he had been used to from his poor 
 mfe who was now dead and buried. For he had told his 
 present wife that, in about two months after his first mar- 
 riage, he and his wife had attended a Methodist prayer- 
 meeting, where they had the ceremony of baptism performed 
 — that is, what is called by the Baptists sprinkling of chil- 
 dren. His wife had gotten up, tossed her head, and said, 
 "That was no baptism."' Being the daughter of a strenuous 
 Baptist, her sectarianism ran higher than her religion or 
 resj)ect for her husband-. But he said that he had asked 
 her before they were married, "If she had any objection to 
 his being a Methodist, and she had replied that she had 
 none."' This was hU version of the case. 
 
 And what did he do ? Did he bear t^ie seeming insult 
 from his young wife? He bear insult? Xo! not even a 
 seeming one, which was, in fact, more the prejudice of 
 education than anything else. But hov: did he bear it? 
 Like a passionate, inconsiderate, unreasonable man gen- 
 erally does. He said he packed up his clothes in his saddle- 
 bags, took his wife to her father, " and told him, for God's 
 8- 
 
90 
 
 BEEAB OF HEAVEN 
 
 sake, to raise the rest of his children in credit." And so 
 he pretended to go off and leave his wife, who was some 
 seven years younger than himself. And now she ran after 
 him, wailed and cried so that he returned. And now did 
 he look for a similar course of conduct ? If he did, he was 
 mistaken. This wife had not behaved unseemly to him, 
 and nothing short of the deepest reverence, courtesy, afia- 
 bility, and deference to his opinions had she ever extended 
 towards him. Yea, too much ; for in carrying out his pecu- 
 liar views, the motives for which were not always apparent, 
 in the hands of his present wife, who was clear and almost 
 transparent, frank and open to a fault, the mixture made 
 her appear a different being ; and, consequently, she could 
 never be her own true self to others, if they were objec- 
 tionable to him, as when in her own native colors. We 
 knew he was the sole aggressor in this horrible accusation. 
 And after his wife told him she never would make any 
 acknowledgment of what was so utterly false with regard 
 to herself, he changed his tactics and mode of attack; 
 made apologies, talked differently, reasoned with himself, 
 and said he must have been mistaken ; and now held out a 
 flag of truce. He said, on the honor of a gentleman, he 
 never would mention the subject to her again. Alas! it 
 was too late. The dreadful seed was sown. The poor, 
 true-hearted wife was really more murdered than if he 
 had cut her throat. There are ills in this life worse to be 
 borne than death. " It is not all of death to die," truly. 
 And what had sh§ now in prospect? The scorching desert 
 of Sahara could not have appeared to her more intolerable, 
 more burning to her henceforth weary feet. Where was an 
 oasis ? None in that family. A threefold enemy was there. 
 - And she was one — alone, alone. For if she had been in 
 gilded halls, she would have been as a glittering wretch. 
 No such grandeur was there. But, instead, many cares and 
 
4 
 
 AKD HUSKS OF STVIXE. 91 
 
 burdens, and mucli work to do for such a household. And 
 if she had had the love, the confidence of her liusband, all 
 would have been but light tasks. But no matter which 
 way she lifted her weary eyes, there was sorrow, and all the 
 more weighty because she mud bear it alone. To whom 
 could she reveal the sorrows of the mind. Young reader, 
 dear young lady reader, to you our heart goes out in 
 deepest, purest sympathy, for upon your devoted heads is 
 sorrow like this apt ever to fall ! Beware, then, how you 
 contract an .unsuitable marriage. V^ere the man old as 
 Methuselah, and the right sort of a man — a gentleman, one 
 whose tastes are congenial to your own, one that would not 
 exact all from you, and perform none himself — he is the 
 man, young or old. And if he come not early, wait for 
 him. "If the vision tarry, wait for it." And if it never 
 come, 7iever marry. Better, ten thousand times, to pass your 
 time alone in this world, than to join yourself to some un- 
 suitable man, and have to pass your poor soul in solitary 
 thoughts and aspirations, to which lie has no affinity nor 
 desire to asj^ire to. Once for all, an unsuitable marriage, 
 in all its bearings, is one that should be deplored and pre- 
 vented, if possible, by all. 
 
 In all this sad state, from whence did Grace get comfort ? 
 By looking above, whence comes all our help. 
 
 " Oh, "who could bear hfe's stormy doom, 
 Did not Thy Word of Love 
 i Come brightly bearmg through the gloom 
 
 A palm-branch from above ? 
 
 "Then sorrow touch'd by grace grows bright 
 
 With more than rapture's ray ; 
 Aa darkness shows us worlds of light 
 "NYe never saw by day I 
 
 The next day found Mrs. Smith prostrated by a nervous 
 fever. Her situation was deeply deplorable. It was one 
 
92 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 wliich all men, but savages and brute-like men, regard witli 
 pity and interest, being one that most men delight for their 
 wives to be in. Her fatigue and very great excitement had 
 done sad work. Though apparently calm as a summer's 
 eve, and self-possessed, yet the inward work was done. Her 
 overwrought energies were unstrung and unnerved. She 
 had not power even to raise her head in bed. And we be- 
 lieve he was alarmed, and thought that he had killed her 
 by his cruel words, which was in fact very nearly the truth. 
 But no one on earth besides themselves knew of the conflict 
 raging within. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 BIRTH AND DEATH OF GKACe's FIRST CHILD. 
 
 OH, spirit of the past, where art thou ? Ye ghosts of 
 former times! Many visions are on the mind, that 
 come trooping as birds to their nests." 
 
 There is a sadness brooding over everything this after- 
 noon, and my spirits seem to sympathize with the out-door 
 state of things. What would I not give if I could but 
 catch a glimpse of the end of this life ? Sometimes I am 
 foolish enough to imagine a happy future — an infinity of 
 golden meadows and rippling, laughing waters, and fra- 
 grant, spicy breath of blossoms filling the air, and my feet, 
 that have been so wayward and wandering, walking at 
 peace among these delights. But how insane the thought ! 
 Did I not choose my own path years ago, and now shall I 
 sit down and sigh for the broken dreams and unfulfilled 
 hopes of a day gone by ? 
 
 It is sunset now — a pale, quiet sunset. Not a rose-tint 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE, 
 
 93 
 
 on the clouds, only a dim, undefined sense of hidden 
 brightness behind them. There seems a hush in the very 
 air to-night ; and as the light on the hills is fast sobering 
 into twilight, my thoughts drift with it in among the 
 shadows. Our moods are so unaccountable, now carrying 
 us aloft on the billovrs of life, eyes bright and hearts light 
 with hope ; then plunging us down, down, under the cold 
 waves and then out again, on towards the land of rest, 
 where, " dropping all flowers from the numbed hands," we 
 only care to dream our life away. 
 
 Things went on so for about a month ; and when she got 
 so that she could sit up, he would lift her up in his arms, 
 and hold her on his knees, and make every overture to her 
 possible — all but taking back the dreadful scene passed ; 
 that never could be done. Still, he acted so that her 
 generous nature, ready ever to forgive, was somewhat paci- 
 fied ; but her heart was dead to all matrimonial joy. The 
 ^ring-tide of her bounding, glad heart was gone — gone 
 forever I She never could look upon him as she did before ; 
 because she thought, and thought truly, that the demon still 
 lurked within his breast. The quicksands were underneath 
 her feet. She could feel them give way at the slightest 
 pressure. Oh, it was sad to see one so young die a living 
 death ! We suppose that is what is meant by the " worm 
 that never dies." A continual pain at the heart whenever 
 she looked at him, the awful truth would force itself upon 
 her, welcome or not, like unbidden guests, "my husband is 
 jealous of me ! " And it would follow her like some dread- 
 ful incubus, some sad spell that never was to be broken, 
 Nor, indeed, was it ever broken. 
 
 Some time after she revived, her cousin Evans called on 
 some business he had wdth Smith, who was in the field ; and 
 while he was being sent for they sat in the piazza — she at 
 a respectful distance from him, as though afraid of him. 
 
94 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 She was mute ; not a word did she speak. Why did she 
 not tell her kinsman what she had suffered on his account? 
 Ah, no ! her feelings were too sacred. How could she 
 divulge? Who was she to tell on ? Her husband? That 
 she could not do ; besides, she knew not all the heart of her 
 cousin ; for had he not neglected her, — intentionally or not 
 we know not, — when she, as a lonely orphan, was far away 
 from friends and acquaintances, among comparative stran- 
 gers ? No, she could not tell him. She would not for the 
 world. Besides, it might have caused a rupture in the 
 families ; for Smith seemed not to be on the best terms with 
 his first wife's relations. Who were most in fault, God only 
 knew. We only knew that it was anything but a pleasant 
 state of aflairs among them. 
 
 " That old man of yours is very slow in coming," said 
 Evans. He then said it v/as well for one to marry rich, so 
 as'to triumph over one's enemies. 
 
 " That triumph is of short duration," replied Mrs. Smith, 
 when she thought there is a canker at one's heart, and 
 the sun of their glory and happiness set forever. But if 
 Mr. Evans thought Mrs. Smith married rich, she did not 
 think so. His property (Smith's), at the highest calcula- 
 tion, could not have been more than $20,000 — with so 
 raany children for his heirs, and a young wife. A poor 
 prospect for riches. For if Mrs. Smith was not rich herself, 
 she had seen those who were ; and many who had been her 
 particular friends, had more property than Smith, if we "take 
 into consideration Smith's incumbrances. And whether 
 Evans alluded to his cousin's marriage or not, we never 
 knew, nor to what enemies he had allusion. She knew 
 not ; for if Mrs. Smith had any enemies besides his own 
 mother, and his sister-in-law, and those who were made 
 BO by them, we never knew. 
 
 As soon as Smith came, he and Evans went to transact 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE, 
 
 95 
 
 their business, during whicli time it became necessary to call 
 Mrs. Smith in about some particular date; at which she was 
 generally prompt. As soon as that matter was attended 
 to, she left, and went again to her own room, and returned 
 no more while her cousin remained. And when Evans left, 
 Smith came to his wife, and said, "My dear, you treated 
 your cousin with too much coolness." Really with a dis- 
 tressed look he said these words. " Coolness, indeed," 
 thought Mrs. Smith. " Oh man, inconsistency is thy 
 name." What else could be expected from her after his 
 late torture of her on his account. But, poor woman, she 
 replied not a word, and thought, also, are you not the cause 
 of it? 
 
 " Do you suppose," she said within herself, " that I will 
 treat him any other way ? nay, even with the most distant 
 politeness, and have you sounding his name in my ears 
 forever?" Was not Smith's conscience guilty ? And did 
 he not fear that she had told him? But he need have had 
 no fears on that score. Is o, she never, never told him. 
 
 After this there was peace about Evans for awhile. In 
 fact, we believe he had not mentioned his name to her in 
 that awful manner since the night of their return from that 
 woful camp-meeting. He kept his word a good while ; nor 
 had he any more cause on that occasion, if he had looked 
 aright, to throw him up to her than on this, if the green- 
 eyed monster had not inverted his optical nerves, and 
 turned them upside down, so that he could net see straight. 
 For she was equally prudent then as now. 
 
 Not long after thiSj Evans, having purchased an accor- 
 dion, came to Smith's to play for his cousin Grace and his 
 nieces, who he knew were passionately fond of music. 
 And while the sweet strains issued from this instrument, 
 the streams gushed from her eyes ; a long train of thought, 
 imagery, and internal vision, brightened into spectres of the 
 
96 
 
 BREAD OF HiiAVEH', 
 
 past, came in review before her, and came trooping like so 
 many long absent friends, and stood before her as if in pity 
 looking on. Grace wept abundantly; and Evans said, 
 " Smith, I would get Cousin Grace a piano ; then music 
 would not have such an effect upon her." Ah me ! little 
 did he know the cause of that flood-tide of tears. The flood 
 had been long pent up within ; and now that it had burst 
 its boundary, her surcharged heart unflooded itself by the 
 streams from her eyes. The smouldering fires in her heart 
 broke out ; nor could she control them any longer. But she 
 did not throw them out in cataracts of burning lava, as her 
 husband had done. The streams arrested the fires, and 
 drove them back to their repository, and she was relieved for 
 a time of some of the weight she had been so long carrying. 
 Evans little thought how her mind went back to the time 
 when she, as a joyous girl, met him the first time ; how 
 music had gladdened her heart nearly all the time of her 
 sojourn there among her friends. He little thought of her 
 dead hopes buried, and how her mind was ruminating in 
 the halls of those glad and dear friends left behind ! He 
 knew not of her misery, much less did they. None knew 
 of it but the one who caused it. Nor could he know. No, 
 such a sensual mind, given only to fleshly appetites and 
 their gratification, could never know what a woman, with a 
 soul high as heaven, refined, educated, and of the most ex- 
 quisite sensibility, coidd feel on such an occasion as this. 
 And yet she must appear cheerful and happy ; must wear a 
 smile when the heart was inly bleeding. Must smile, 
 when burdened with a dreadful secret, and her heart 
 crushed in ten thousand pieces. Add to this all her other 
 weights, to be borne from the family, it was almost an in- 
 tolerable burden. But she picked up the Herculean task 
 at the threshold of her prison of sorrow, boi'e it, and went 
 on sadly, though outwardly cheerful. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 97 
 
 A long time then elapsed, of more than six months, before 
 anything of a jealous nature passed between them. Com- 
 parative peace from him to his wife was the order of the 
 day. She had, however, affliction of other kinds ; enough, 
 - it would seem, to destroy a dozen women of like health and 
 constitution. 
 
 About this time she was sick one morning, and vomited. 
 "Up," said he, " I must get, for I see another brood of chil- 
 dren coming." Is this the language of a fond, doting hus- 
 band on such occasions ? 'SVe think not. And if there is 
 anything beneath the sun that will make us hate and 
 loathe a man little less than the rake and seducer, it is for 
 a married man — no matter if he have forty children — to 
 make such speeches to a young and new wife, or to any wife. 
 A delectable prospect, is it not, dear young ladies. Very 
 enviable. Would you not like to be thus happily married ? 
 Beware of old widowers then ; albeit, some young ones are 
 equally selfish. Would God such men could never get a 
 good and virtuous woman, but were lain prone on a rock, 
 chained there until they could be made better. Marry a 
 young wife, be jealous of her, and then wish her to be sterile 
 as a rock, with such a libidinous, lecherous disposition a.s 
 that man possessed I What on earth are we to think of 
 such men? Wonder who did make them ? We know that 
 God made man upright, but he has sought out many inven- 
 tions, and one, we think, is that the devil made these glori- 
 ous creatures over again ; hence the image of the SLTch-jiend 
 in their dispositions at least, and none of the original. And 
 we appeal to you, gentlemen, too. Think not that we be- 
 lieve all men are liars, and perjured, and such miserable 
 caricatures of the Master's work as some are. iSo, blessed 
 be God ! We thank Him that we have seen some who re- 
 sembled their heavenly Father, and Jesus their elder 
 brother, in all their bearings to poor down-trodden woman ! 
 ' 9 Q 
 
98 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN. 
 
 YeSj thank tlie Lord, we have seen some who seemed to 
 think their wives, their much-beloved wives, their life, and 
 made us think that some tall, manly angel had come down 
 from heaven to show men what the Almighty intended, 
 when he made woman for the man. These men have ever 
 been the beau-ideal of our existence. And if Grace Clai- 
 borne had met with such an one in her husband Smith, 
 when she became Mrs. Smith, there would have been no 
 occasion for this story. Some cry out fiction ! fiction ! but 
 this is no fiction. We wish it was. It is true. Nor can the 
 worst of it be detailed on paper, because it would never do 
 for delicate ears. If the very thought of it is horrible to our 
 imagination, what must the reality have appeared ? And 
 now, ye noble men, who are indeed the noblest work of God, 
 do you blame us for the ideas penned above ? We know 
 you do not. Although you are not women, and can never 
 know how women feel on these subjects, yet your greatness 
 causes you to espouse the cause of the weak — those whom 
 God delegated you to protect and screen from evil and in- 
 sult, wrong and oppression. If this is not oppression — to 
 keep a young and beautiful person for their own gratifica- 
 tion, and then be angry at a legitimate result — we know 
 not the meaning of the word. A result of your own mak- 
 ing. O God ! we do feel, in a moment of excitement and 
 just indignation against all such, that, if we had all their 
 necks under our feet, we could stamp them. We feel, we 
 think, a justifiable and infinite scorning and contempt, and 
 would fain have all such chained where they never could 
 see any woman at all, but those of their own class — and 
 they the most abandoned of their sex, for with only such 
 should they be made to consort. 
 
 A new year had now rolled round, and with it many other 
 things. The measles had been brought into the family by 
 one of the boys taking it while away from home, thirty-six 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 99 
 
 of ^hoin were prostrated by it at one time. This took all 
 the house servant-maids and sisters ; and then Mrs. Smith, 
 regardless of her situation, kept the youngest child — a little 
 boy about thirteen months old — in her arms to sleep, and 
 by that means, and her undivided care, saved his life, but 
 came very near losing her own, by taking the measles her- 
 self. On the 22d of April she lost her own child in conse- 
 quence of this dreaded disease. All the pain that a mortal 
 could endure seemed to be her share. She lost the child in 
 the eighth month, being only about twenty days short of 
 the ninth month. And although Smith would say, if any 
 one were to swear till he ivas black as his Jiat, he would not 
 believe hut that his wife was a virtimis woman, for he knew 
 she ivas, yet he would be saying, " I would not, for five hun- 
 dred dollars, that she should be confined before the nine 
 months were passed." All such delicate conversation in 
 her ears while she was suffering more than tongue could 
 tell. Oh, how did she bear it? Then was the time to have 
 consoled her. 
 
 One day he said to her, " How would you feel, if you 
 should hear that Evans had said thus and so of you?" 
 when he knew such a thing was physically impossible. 
 Poor Mrs. Smith, judging, from what she saw of the other 
 children, that she never would have the chance of bringing 
 her children up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, 
 thanked God that her child was born dead ; moreover, was 
 no addition to the " brood " he already had. The dead child 
 bore his image as much as any that were ever born to him. 
 
 Grace again began to revive and recover from her great 
 illness. On the tenth of May of that year he had occasion 
 to visit his father in an adjoining county. On that day she 
 was somewhat alone — as much as one could be, surrounded 
 by a household of children and servants ; a house in which 
 there were no closets nor sanctums sacred to the use of the 
 
100 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 weary child of God, who wished often to be alone with its 
 God, and commune of things besides those of earth and sin. 
 And when it was too cold, or she was unable, by affliction, 
 to retire to the woods, there was no asylum for her ; hence 
 she suffered intensely from this cause, having loved solitude 
 and retirement. ]N"o one prayed in this family. And when 
 she prayed, it must be in the midst of broils and confusion. 
 If she went into a bedroom, all of which were without fire- 
 places, and which must necessarily be cold in very cold 
 weather, she was sure to be peeped at through the cracks, 
 if any there were, to see what she was doing. If she wept, 
 he would say, even before his disgorgement of jealousy, that 
 she was not satisfied with him. Who could have been, when 
 confusion and misrule were the rule of the house ? But on 
 this day especially she wished to be alone while he was 
 gone — to be alone with her Maker, and review the horrors 
 of the past ten months. She sat up and wrote. Oh, it had 
 been a long time since she had written, even in her journal — 
 so much surveillance around her, and so much afraid was 
 she that he would say something about it, although she 
 generally did all his writing for him. That day she poured 
 out her soul, on paper, to God, and prayed, if it were His 
 will, for Christ's sake, to suffer her to be a mother no more 
 forever ! • " Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done." 
 Her overcharged heart was emptied once more, and she was 
 comforted by her Maker, who knows all hearts. 
 
 She walked to the piazza for some water. Evans passed 
 by on horseback on his way to the church, some five miles 
 distant. The road ran about a hundred yards from the 
 house. 
 
 " Good-morning, Cousin Grace," said he ; " how do you 
 do?" 
 
 She, as was generally the case, after having her spirits 
 chastened and subdued before the Lord, rallied, and became 
 
AKD HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 101 
 
 cheerful, and replied, " Good-morning. I have a great mind 
 not to speak to you." 
 
 " Oh," said he, " I will speak to you whether you do 
 to me or not," and passed on, and she returned to her 
 room, or family room, saddened again, thinking of his 
 being the innocent but unsuspecting cause of all her woe — 
 at least, so Smith made it, while he himself was the whole 
 cause. 
 
 Smith hated Evans in his heart, but would not let him 
 know it. Although apparently friendly to him, he often 
 told his wife disparaging tales of him, which she knew, 
 years after, originated in his dislike of Evans, many things 
 that had passed before Mrs. Smith knevz either of them. 
 These stories were told her shortly after their marriage, and 
 after Evans's return from the Commencement, that memo- 
 rable day when, he afterwards admitted, the green-eyed 
 monster arose in his heart. These were told to embitter her 
 mind against him. Such were some of them. " That he had 
 no doubt but that Evans, in his route, had been to see such 
 a young lady in such a county, vrho was the daughter of a 
 wealthy gentleman, and having not succeeded there, he 
 came back with the intention of addressing you, and that 
 was the reason why he looked so much like a distracted 
 man," and then added, " I am glad I have got you." All 
 this looked very strange to Mi's. Smith then, but, like Mary 
 of old, she pondered them in her heart. But now, after the 
 lapse of many years, we can see, as plainly as two and three 
 are five, that Smith thought these two persons — his brother- 
 in-law and his cousin — were engaged, or at least that there 
 existed some attachment between them, and that now, while 
 Evans was absent, was his chance. He would address her 
 himself, and, if possible, bear, ofi" the prize before Evans's 
 return. In this we have seen that he succeeded too well. 
 But if after over-reaching his rival, as he certaiuli/ thought 
 2* 
 
102 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 Evans was, lie had treated the unsuspecting bone of conten- 
 tion — his victim — with kindness, all would have been 
 well ; for we have seen how utterly without foundation were 
 all his thoughts, so far as Grace Claiborne was concerned. 
 She no more thought that her cousin had any intention of 
 addressing JieVy than she thought of some one of whom she 
 had never heard. Moreover, her knowledge of the senti- 
 ments of his mother, and his neglect of her, when she wished 
 to leave a place that had been fraught v/ith disappointment, 
 were in the way with her. A neglected promise, v/hich had 
 been made under circumstances so sacred in her mind, could 
 not be forgotten. Still, as she could not bear umbrage 
 long, it was looked upon by her sadly, as something to be 
 regretted for a lifetime, especially after she found herself 
 an unhappy wife. 
 
 Once, after Mrs. Smith knew that jealousy, cruel as the 
 grave, lurked within his heart, as he and his wife were rid- 
 ing to town to make some purchases preparatory to his 
 eldest daughter's wedding, they met Evans on horseback 
 going out home. Smith, ever on the watch, said Evans 
 turned red in the face, and that his wife's also turned 
 red. After they had passed each other. Smith said to his 
 wife, " I believe you and Evans blush every time you meet." 
 Mrs. Smith made no reply, as was often the case with her, 
 but, when accused, like her Saviour, held her peace, and 
 appealed to the Searcher of hearts. If she blushed, she 
 knew it not, nor did she observe that Evans blushed. And 
 even if she had, we think his false views of Evans were 
 enough to make the blood mount or bound to any young 
 woman's face ; while he, poor fellow, if he did, it can never 
 be known what brought the unconscious blood to his face, 
 as he was ignorant of Smith's false views of him. 
 
 The tenth day of May, before alluded to, wh*en Smith 
 went to his father's, to the surprise of all his family, he re- 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWIlfE. 
 
 103 
 
 turned that niglit. It being a great distance to go and 
 return in one day, he was not expected to go and come in 
 so short a time. He pretended that it was his great love 
 and concern for his young wife, whom, with all his jealousies 
 and mistreatment secretly, he pretended to love to distrac- 
 tion. This idea caused her generous heart to try to forgive 
 and overlook his conduct as much as possible, and to en- 
 deavor to glean a little happiness. But apples of Sodom 
 and the husks of swine satisfy not a true soul. Only ex- 
 ternally could she appear so — no foundation internally. 
 Who could have been happy ? Perhaps, we have thought, 
 if she could have told on him, it might have been better 
 or easier to bear. But we do not always know what is best 
 in such cases. Her heart was too sensitive, too sacred, too 
 secretive, too much in this matter like the miser guarding 
 gold — his hoard of wealth. She did not even divulge it 
 to her own dear mother. Her exalted views might have 
 been appreciated in families of refinement, but in this it was 
 all lost. And perhaps, as we have to meet cunning with 
 cunning, devices with devices, if she could have unbent 
 some of her lofty views, and let down some of her family 
 pride which ran so high, and turned over, in common par- 
 lance, " the other side, Massa Johnny," when he was secretly 
 killing her, and t#o other classes from the house were, with- 
 out knowing Smith's proceedings, distorting all her acts, 
 nay, even her best motives impugned, it might have been 
 better for her in a day of development ; but at that time 
 she could no more, with her views, have resorted to such 
 measures than she could have flown without wings. More- 
 over, too, while she was yet in her own beloved State, where 
 she had been yqvj much beloved, and as yet no tales from 
 the neighbors by the children and negroes would be brought 
 in to cast at her to vex her with. The citizens of that 
 county were of a better class than some Y\^ho will figure in 
 "^lese pages during our further progress. 
 
104 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 We now think Smith's speedy return home was to see 
 what was going on, and to know if Evans ever came about 
 in his absence. Of which we are sure Evans never once 
 thought of doing. Base man ! he need have given himself 
 no trouble on that score. Evans never came in his absence, 
 nor did Mrs. Smith ever even think of having an interview 
 with him. How contemptible such pretended devotion and 
 love, when it was only a cloak to hide his hideous thoughts. 
 How we would appreciate it, if it had been pure and true. 
 Oh, what happiness might have abounded in that family, 
 if he had been a pure and true man. Ample opportunities 
 might have presented themselves, if Mrs. Smith had ever 
 thought of such a thing as seeing her cousin. Had she 
 desired it, we suppose she could have done it. True, but 
 she was amidst all sorts of sinners, of the negroes and some 
 other members of the family, and she gave th'em no occa- 
 sion against herself, but was in all respects very circum- 
 spect. The thought of acting from policy never once 
 occurred to her. Her whole course of conduct was per- 
 fectly natural. Innocence never thinks evil, and is often 
 ignorant when many basilisk eyes are upon it. 
 
 One day, when Smith and his wife were reposing on a 
 bed together, " My dear," said he, " I tiiought that child 
 
 favored S ," meaning the man of the house where Mrs. 
 
 Smith boarded before her marriage; who had, in fact, been 
 represented as a very bad man, but of whom Mrs. Smith 
 had heard before she went there to board, and had ever 
 been on her guard where he was ; yes, as much as if she 
 had been near some reptile. But to his credit, or her credit, 
 he never had the opportunity, if he even desired it, to behave 
 amiss towards her. He was the first man she ever beheld 
 who was jealous of his wife, and that without any real cause ; 
 
 for his wife, Mrs. M. A. B. S , was one of those artless kind 
 
 of women of whom it is profanation to think evil. And he 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 105 
 
 ought to have known it, and did know it. But this same 
 man told Miss Claiborne, before she was married, that wheu 
 a man got jealousy in his head, it was hard to get it out. 
 He doubtless spoke from experience ; and if he had any 
 real cause, Mrs. Smith never knew it. Although there were 
 many things passed in a social point of view under his roof 
 that Smith never, never had to contend with or be jealous 
 about ; yet, so far as Miss Claiborne (now Mrs. Smith) saw 
 
 and observed her little friend's conduct, Mrs. M. A. B. S , 
 
 she would declare, before her heavenly Father and an as- 
 sembled -world, that she never saw anything amiss in her. 
 She was a woman that ought to have been beloved and 
 
 trusted, and, we suppose, was; only S was so mean 
 
 himself. He knew what he would have been about, if any 
 one of the feminine race was particularly friendly to him ; 
 consequently, Smith-like, could see nothing only through 
 his distorted vision. We think he and Smith were brothers 
 in their lecherous dispositions, and that they ought to sit 
 together in their kingdom come, whatever it may be. So 
 
 much for S . 
 
 As we are not writing the story of all his wrongs to his 
 sweet, dear, little wife as she was when we beheld her last, 
 we will let him pass, y»uth only a stone cast at him from his 
 good brother Smith, to think such a thing of him as to say 
 that his own child favored him, when both these noble sin- 
 ners knew that such a thing was as impossible as that the 
 Virgin Mary was the mother physically of the whole world. 
 But we say again, that this lecher of a brother. Smith, did 
 
 S great injustice. He might have had too much respect 
 
 for Miss Claiborne ; for base men sometimes have respect 
 for virtuous women, we believe, or have been told so. But 
 he never behaved amiss to Grace Claiborne while boarding 
 with his family. Here was now another stab to the already 
 bruised and murdered heart ; and he actually lied whenever 
 
106 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 these spells came on. And we do declare that we get so 
 angry and outraged against him while delineating these 
 horrible lies of his, that, if we had been a man, and Grace 
 our sister, and had known of such treatment towards our 
 sister, we should have shot the wretch before we ever could 
 have thought of it. Out upon him for a craven, for he 
 would invariably, in those days, make acknowledgments 
 after the foul play was done, and ask forgiveness, and say 
 that he knew that such a thing could not have been, for 
 reasons well known to himself and signs most indubitable. 
 
 Great God! over what kind of a mess are we sometimes, in 
 our route, compelled to pass ! Such details of men's sins are 
 no ways agreeable. They are the bitter herbs ; and we wish, 
 from the bottom of our heart, that every jealous man with- 
 out a cause was confined in the very middle of St. Helena, 
 — where others have been exiled, — there to stay forever, 
 if they would not behave themselves, and learn to know 
 the difference between good and bad women, and not try to 
 make all bad by their diabolical jealousies and false accu- 
 sations. Then there would be no necessity to pen such 
 things. Napoleon Bonaparte, we have read, was jealous 
 of Josephine without cause, and dearly did he pay for it. 
 Napoleon Smith was jealous of his wife without cause; and 
 it cost him dearly, also. When he would say he did not 
 believe such things, then, we ask, unparalleled fool, why 
 torment your own mind, and destroy your own peace and 
 happiness, and that of the pure virgin you married ? Had 
 you been the only sufferer, there would not have been much 
 matter, for we have no pity for man or woman suffering 
 from imaginary evils. And we have never known it fail, 
 in a whole lifetime of observation, that the most jealous are 
 the most vicious, and, vice versa, the most innocent the least 
 jealous. , Hence, we conclude that jealousy, when it takes 
 possession of a man's heart, is one of the most diabolical 
 
AND HUSKS OF ST>^INE. 
 
 107 
 
 passions ever sliot into the liumaii heart, and one of the 
 hardest to be extracted. The deyil makes sure of his aim 
 in this case, and the ball makes a sure lodgment among the 
 most vital parts — the sinner is mortally wounded ; for we 
 have never kno^Yu, in a long lifetime, or heard or read, 
 that we remember now, when one did receive the fatal shot, 
 that it was ever extracted. Real or imaginary, if he thinks 
 it so, it is a reality with him. "NVhen imaginary, he is often 
 - worse than where there was a cause. We have seen some 
 men, and women, too, who could not be made jealous under 
 any circumstances. And in some instances of which we 
 have been eye-witnesses, it seemed even the unsuspecting 
 might have been jealous, or might have known facts, 
 whether jealous or not, but who seemed not to think of any 
 such thing. We suppose they belonged to the class that 
 " thinketh no evil." To this class Mrs. Smith certainly be- 
 longed. For had she no cause, if she had thought and looked 
 about herf But, ah no! it never entered her pure mind, 
 such unholy thoughts. "To the pure all things are pure." 
 Why not have the trial of jealousy performed, as mentioned 
 in the Scriptures, rather than have a continual torture with- 
 out ccbusef This, according to the Mosaic code, would have 
 been a more legal course. 
 
 But although she was so sacredly keeping all her troubles 
 within her own breast, was he so ? Did he never breathe 
 his thoughts to some of his old negroes? Heaven only 
 knows. But we shall see, as we proceed, if we have not a 
 very good foundation for such a thought. And yet Mrs. 
 Smith would have thought it high treason to have allowed 
 such an idea to enter her mind while he was, with all his 
 jealousies, when in good humor, calling her the sweetest 
 creature in the world, and saying, many, many times 
 during the day and night, " God bless your sweet soul." 
 And for her to have had a shadow of a doubt of him would, 
 at that time, have been the last thought that could have pre- 
 
108 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 sented itself. Such purity in juxtaposition with evil sur- 
 misings is a contrast amazingly unpleasant. 
 
 We have heard some women say that they wished their 
 husbands were jealous of them, for then it would prove that 
 they loved them very much. Well, our dear lady or ladies, 
 you are welcome to all the jealousy from your husbands 
 that they are capable of ; but we, our own humble self, beg 
 to be excused. Nay, if we could be married to the chief 
 adversary for a space of ten, fifteen, or twenty years, and 
 then be released, we would prefer it to your jealous man. 
 A sign of love ! no, never, in our estimation. Confidence is 
 a sign of love, and not all-absorbing, consuming jealousy, 
 which eats out the heart-core of affection, as the fires of 
 Gehenna destroy all the peace and quiet of the victims ex- 
 posed to its flames. 
 
 Jealousy, in our opinion, is the very antagonist of love; 
 and the man under its influence is like the wild beast — he is 
 so greedy of his prey, that no other beast dare look upon it. 
 And as he feels himself in possession of this coveted, choice 
 lamb — the king of beasts — O mercy, " touch it, who dare." 
 And to prove that our sentiments are logical and right, this 
 wild beast would rather destroy, than let one of his fellow- 
 beasts touch his victim, even after he is dead. A woeful 
 evidence we had in the husband who shot his wife with her 
 babe in her arms, and made it, and some two other little 
 children (girls), motherless. It was said that somehow the 
 insane idea got into his head that he had to die before his 
 wife ; and knowing that her great beauty would cause her 
 to have admirers after his demise, to prevent this (to his 
 jealous, ferocious mind,) great catastrophe, what does he 
 do, but, like a raving wild beast, bring about a much greater 
 one, that made all the ears of the people of the good old 
 
 State of G tingle. He killed his victim, thus causing 
 
 her to die before him ; and then took his own life in prison, 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 109 
 
 to prevent a public execution of his own miserable carcase. 
 Where was the love in all this matter ? " Love worketh no 
 ill to his neighbor," much less to his wife ; so away with all 
 the jealous husbands for us. Confine them on the barren, 
 bleak i*ocks of St. Helena forever. Let them lie there, as 
 Satan did on the burning pool, prone, lest, if they get into 
 any earthly garden of Eden, as Satan did, there will be the 
 mischief to pay, and all the wild works that we might ex- 
 pect from a second edition of this bold, bad, wild adventurer 
 in his ingress into Eden. He certainly has made some 
 amendments to his infernal arts since he first tried them so 
 successfully on Adam and Eve, and has by this time taught 
 his willing and very obedient sons the new improvements. 
 If Adam had been jealous, he never would have thought of 
 killing Eve. The thought of murder made its first develop- 
 ment »from Cain on his more righteous brother, and jealousy 
 and envy, twin-sisters, were the cause of it then. But now 
 these well-tutored sons of Adam, under the guardianship of 
 this first cause of evil, to wit, the w^ell-beloved and well- 
 obeyed old Satan, have made such rapid advancement in 
 his infernal trickery, that they can kill their wives in cold 
 blood, and then wape their mouths, as the bad woman, and 
 say, " we have done no evil." Now do you, our dear young 
 gentle reader, think jealousy a sign of love? Well, if you 
 do, all we have to say on the subject is, that you are wel- 
 come to the signs and all the reality that follow them ; for, 
 from them all, we say, in the integrity of our soul, " Good 
 Lord, deliver us." We wish no such love, nor its signs. It 
 is a hydra-headed monster, whose jaws are as voracious as 
 the grave and hell. We have not yet exhausted our vocabu- 
 lary in giving it names ; we may still have some new ones 
 for it, as we advance. We think he is the very fellow that 
 tucked his tail, or rather, as there was a company of them, 
 tucked their tails and ran away into the herd of swine, 
 10 
 
110 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 when the Saviour cast them out of the man. They called 
 Him Lord, or Master, we believe. Any way, they acknowl- 
 edged His supremacy, when they besought our Saviour, say- 
 ing, " Lord, if thou cast us out, suffer us to go into the herd 
 of swine ; " for they did not wish to go back to pandemonium, 
 as they had perhaps done all the mischief there they could, 
 and thought they could better serve the purpose of their great 
 master, the chief devil, by staying among men and swine. 
 See ! they did not ask to go among the v*"omen, for about 
 that time woman was the especial favorite of the Saviour of 
 the world, and was then under His particular guardianship. 
 But these poor devils, after having drowned the whole herd 
 of swine in the sea, worked their way out again among men, 
 entered all the jealous-minded ones, and there have dwelt 
 ever since. We have never heard of their being cast out 
 since that day. They have been feeding them with the 
 husks the swine left when they hastened them away from 
 their repast before them, and they are tenfold more like 
 these demons than before. But we will now leave the dis- 
 cussion of these gents for awhile, and look after the hero 
 Smith. 
 
 A whole year had now passed since their marriage. 
 Smith had promised to take his wife to see her relations, 
 and the time drew near for their departure. He wished to 
 back out ; offered his wife seventy dollars, if she would not 
 go. But she — knowing that she would lay it out for the 
 family, and then perhaps be blamed for it, and such were 
 her yearnings and longing desires to see her dear mother 
 and sisters — refused to accept his offer, and told him she 
 would hold him good to his promise ; for she had not seen 
 her mother for more than two years. Consequently, it was 
 not long before they set out on their journey. They passed 
 through many places which she had, about twenty months 
 before, passed in company with her cousin Evans. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 When they came to M , where some distant relations 
 
 dwelt, they heard that Smith's father was lying very sick, 
 and it was thought would die. Mrs. Smith proposed going 
 to his father's immediately, but he declined going until their 
 rfeturn from her relations. 
 
 He appeared to be quite happy among his wife's people, 
 who were very kind to him. But especially among her ac- 
 quaintances and friends did he hear her praise, who, having 
 known her from a child, held her in high estimation, and 
 told him there was no two ways about Grace's conduct ; that 
 duty and piety were the polar star to her — tynie in every 
 point. One good minister whom he met, told him that he 
 believed sister Grace was the most pious young woman he 
 ever knew. 
 
 Smith's father's illness cut short their stay among his 
 wife's relations, and caused them to hasten back earlier than 
 they had intended. Smith's father, although sick, appeared 
 to be captivated by his new daughter-in-law ; did not wish 
 her out of his sight, not even a moment, while they remained, 
 but would be constantly calling for her. Smith's eldest 
 .brother and sister being there also, seemed well pleased. 
 And even all their servants, too, were well pleased. 
 
 On their return home, Smith had an argument with his 
 wife a,bout the beauty of her next oldest sister's little 
 daughter, and his youngest daughter. Mrs. Smith did 
 think her little charge pretty, but her sister's daughter 
 prettier. At this he flew into a passion, or rather rage ; did 
 not speak for some time after, saying nothing he had was 
 pretty. Mrs. Smith was sorry the subject had been 
 broached ; and although she had seen a considerable amount 
 of his passionate, whimsical way of doing things, and angry 
 talking, she did not anticipate this whirlwind or tempest on 
 so trivial an occasion, and hence was taken by surprise. Yet 
 who could be forever on his guard, so as to ward ofl" or avert 
 
112 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 such whirly gusts. For although she really did love his 
 daughter, she still thought her sister's daughter the pret- 
 tiest, and did not think it would make her husband mad to 
 say so. 
 
 Smith's daughter was of a dark brunette complexion, 
 large whitish-blue or gray eyes, and auburn colored hair, 
 with a large frame and features. His wife's sister's daughter 
 w^as of a beautiful, fair complexion, deep black eyes and 
 black hair, perfect symmetry in form and features; not 
 large, but quite delicate and ladylike in her appearance. 
 Not one in a thousand but would have said little Miss 
 D was prettier than little Miss Smith. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 TROUBLE ABOUT SMITH's PROPERTY. 
 
 '^pHUS it was that Smith carried his jealousies and preju- 
 J- dices into almost everything — into little every-day 
 aifairs, occurrences, and conversations, not worth a well-bred 
 child's notice, to say nothing of a fit of madness for a grown 
 man. Such conduct in a man over forty years of age argues 
 something very strange, unless we say at once that he was 
 an absolute tyrant — one who could bear no contradiction 
 at all ; nay, not even a difference of opinion expressed, 
 and that by his own wife, too, whom he v/ould pretend to 
 idolize, but, like Henry the Eighth, would almost the next 
 moment be ready to cut her head off for what would ap- 
 pear to many others almost a perfect nothing. Queen 
 Elizabeth, for instance, was ready to behead a man if he 
 called another queen prettier than herself. If it come to 
 
AND 
 
 HUSKS OF 
 
 SWINE. 
 
 113 
 
 that in this country, that one cannot express even an oppo- 
 site opinion without being in danger of a whirly gust of 
 passion, what better off are we than if under an absolute 
 monarchy, except the lack of power to do as the tyrant 
 would do, provided he were in a kingly country ? 
 
 During the trip, however, — although given to these 
 freaks, — he was very fond of his wife, especially among 
 her own people, frequently putting his hand on his knee to 
 her to come and sit on his lap ; and among his own people 
 he appeared almost to adore his young wife. But all this 
 could only make her seemingly happy. The aching heart 
 was within. When they arrived at home, although there 
 was bright light all about, it being beautiful summer 
 weather, yet in her heart there was gloom. For no glad 
 faces met her, no glad voices greeted her ears ; and though 
 apparently happy, yet inwardly there was great sadness, 
 because no glad, joyous, happy spirit can long be happy if 
 it see that it is not beloved in return by those around it. 
 Love for love, and nothing else. She would try to even 
 dare to think herself happy, at least in her husband. But, 
 O truth ! the burning truth of his fitful ways marred all. And 
 when she turned within to behold her joyous heart, behold 
 the waste made there, like an endless desert upon which 
 she would send her eyes in search of some green spot, which, 
 alas ! could not be found. There was no rest for the sole 
 of her feet from the troubled waters. Without, was one 
 wild waste of endless waters, and within the family ark 
 there lurked a serpent. The freaky love of her husband 
 was so uncertain, that there could be no permanent security 
 or hope of long continuance. Yet when the spells were not 
 on him, there would be a lull, and she would be soothed 
 into something like complaisance, thinking that surely he 
 did indeed love her, as he was so often ardently professing. 
 But the awful truth of his jealousies even though now the 
 10* H 
 
114 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 spell might be off, and he believed not what he said when 
 under their influence, as he again and again avowed that 
 he never believed a word he uttered under such passions — 
 evinced an imbecility of mind which was not at all in con- 
 cert with her high and lofty views of love and friendship, 
 especially conjugal love and friendship. And hence, with 
 all the blindness natural towards those with whom we dwell 
 and wish to love, she could not help thinking her very tran- 
 sient, evanescent happiness was on a poor, a sandy founda- 
 tion. If the floods should come, the winds blow, the rain 
 and storms should arise against her, she felt sure the foun- 
 dation would be snapped asunder, and leave her engulfed 
 beneath the ruins ! With such an ominous prophecy forever 
 before her eyes of her own destruction, oh, how could she 
 be even outwardly happy ? Oh, how many smiling, beau- 
 tiful, cheerful faces, if we could see as God sees, would we 
 behold with broken hearts and crushed hopes ! Yes, crushed 
 to death ! Yea, the most cruel of all deaths — a living death ! 
 Like the custom of the ancient "Romans to a criminal or 
 condemned person, when one such was under their dis- 
 pleasure or sentence of death, they would have a dead body 
 tied to the living unfortunate being, to drag about with him 
 until the dead body caused his death. A most cruel fate, 
 and one to which the Apostle Paul alludes when he exclaims, 
 " O wretched man that I am ! Who shall deliver me from 
 the body of this death." But Mrs. Smith did not thus pray. 
 If she had viewed it in that light, and prayed incessantly 
 day and night ; had put aside all that arduous work and 
 hard tasks assumed by herself, of doing so much, and too 
 much for her delicate constitution ; work for which she did 
 neither then nor yet, as we know of, get any thanks for, but 
 only misrepresentation, it might have been better for her. But 
 she never could be selfish enough, not even for self-preserva- 
 tion. The doctrine of taking care of " number one " yiever 
 
AXD HUSKS OF STTIXE. 
 
 115 
 
 could enter a soul large enoiigli to take in the ^'liole "^orld 
 in its love and beneYoleuce. 
 
 Xot much of anything of importance happoned the 
 residue of that summer. Mrs. ^^niith had con:parative 
 quiet abotit Evans. She saw him very seklom, and his 
 name was, never mentioned, unless he was named to her. 
 About this time he went abroad among the ladies. And 
 now it was that a certain young lady from an adjoining 
 county came into that neighborhood on a visit. It was 
 reported that Evans was very mu'jh pleased with her. 
 Is either Smith nor Mrs. Smith had yet known it, or seen 
 her. 
 
 Another camp-meeting came off this mil, which was about 
 a year since the fatal one to Mrs. Smith the year before. 
 This, however, was held in another part of the county, and 
 nearer Smith's residence than the former. He woiild not 
 tent again, nor do anything of the kind, to accommodate 
 his family, but had promised his wife that he would go with 
 her and return the same day. A poor recreation, or religious 
 enjoyment, that to a pious soul, to go ten or tvrelve miles to 
 a religious meeting and return on the same day. But even 
 that was some little respite and refreshment away from the 
 scene of constant toil and almost incessant broil. But when 
 Sunday came, behold, he did not wish to do even that much. 
 The devil would generally get in him about Saturday night, 
 so that he might not wi.-h to go to church, and thus prevent 
 his wife from going. Mrs. Smith, hovrever, prevailed upon 
 him this time to go for her sake. And whether he had been 
 teasing or tormenting her about Evans this time, or whether 
 it was because she was so hindered by her fatal marriage to 
 this very Methodist man from associatino: and comminoiino- 
 
 * ceo 
 
 with the people of God, we do not now know. But one 
 thing we do knoic, that when they arrived at the camp- 
 ground, some good minister of God preached an excellent 
 
116 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 and soul-quickening and soul-reviving sermon, which affected 
 her very much, so that, like a pent-up flood, her overcharged 
 heart overflowed again in streams from her eyes, and was 
 thus relieved of some of its mighty burden. One cause of 
 her great sorrow about such things was the reflection that 
 before her marriage, although under the protection of a 
 drinking father, she could generally attend the house of 
 God when she wished ; but now, to please her very Metho- 
 distical husband, she must stay Sabbath after Sabbath from 
 the sanctuary — yea, nearly whole years; for not above 
 three times a year could she get him off, and even that 
 much condescension on his part would be obtained by the 
 greatest kind of yielding on her part — "yielding to con- 
 quer." And unless she would consent to take the children 
 and servants, and go without him, which she did not like 
 to do, she would have to remain at home; for, besides 
 always wishing to be with one who was her lawful protector, 
 and ought to be her friend, she did not wish to give him any 
 chance to throw up to her Evans or any one else. 
 
 Evans and the young lady in question, with another young 
 lady, attended the camp-meeting also. They arrived after 
 Smith and his wife. After divine service, all dined at the 
 same tent — a tent belonging to the same lady, Evans's sister, 
 who had a tent at the other camp-ground of the year before. 
 This lady's husband, although no better off in this world's 
 goods than Smith, was indeed a man to be praised, for he 
 built a tent at both these camp-grounds, one of which must 
 have been twelve or fifteen miles off, and this last one at 
 least eighteen or twenty miles. He had also a very large 
 family of children and servants, and entertained a great deal 
 of company on these occasions. This, Smith determined he 
 never would do, and never did ; and if he ever did in his 
 former wife's lifetime, he had fairly vowed himself out of 
 all such expense. Again at his sister's table, Evans carved 
 
A^^D HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 117 
 
 the turkey, and asked Mrs. Smith, his cousin, to be served. 
 Whether Smith took a fever this time or not, we do not 
 remember. The lady, the mistress of the tent, was one of 
 the most friendly and bouutiful of ladies, and always had 
 an ample board filled with the best of viands for her 
 * guests. 
 
 The young lady to whom Evans was paying attention 
 was considered handsome. Smith, as a matter of course, or 
 pretence, thought his loife the most beautiful, and remarked 
 to her, "She is not half so beautiful as you ; and yet," said 
 he, " she is very much like you across the breast ; and that 
 is the reason, I suppose, Evans took such a fancy to her." 
 This one idea seemed to be his haunting ghost ; as if Evans 
 could love nothing unless it resembled his cousin. Mrs. 
 Smith, at least, never gave him credit for any such fancy 
 of her beauty, or devotion to her. This thought seemed to 
 constitute the bane of his life, and made him afraid of 
 Evans ever seeing his wife. Like a perfect fool, or rather 
 maniac, he acted about the matter. For if Mrs. Smith was 
 the pure thing that he sometimes confessed he thought her 
 to be, it was impossible for her to swerve from her polar 
 star of duty. And Evans, so far as Mrs. Smith knew him, 
 was one of the last of men who would interfere with another 
 man's wife — even although that wife had been taken sur- 
 reptitiously from him before her marriage. Mrs. Smith never 
 saw it in this light, for she knew her cousin had made no 
 love to her ; and as to Mrs. Smith loving a man unasked, it 
 was not in her composition. Pride of the right kind, too, 
 if nothing else, would have deterred her. Hence, Smith's 
 jealousies, and all his wild and cruel acts towards his wife, 
 were entirely without foundation, as we think has been very 
 clearly set forth in these pages. 
 
 Evans and the young lady in question were married. 
 - Perhaps Smith was relieved ; for his daughter sent word to 
 
118 
 
 BEBAD OP HEAVEN, 
 
 his wife that, if she would wait till the afternoon, she would 
 be glad to accompany her and her father to see her new 
 aunt. This wa,s his eldest daughter, who had married the 
 obnoxious suitor before alluded to. But Smith, her father, 
 seemed to be in such a hurry to make the call, that he per- 
 suaded his wife to make it in the morning. ... It was * 
 a pity, ten thousand pities, that Smith would let himself be 
 led captive by such fancies and freaks of the brain, when 
 at times he could be so agreeable ; with so much seeming 
 lovingness and goodness, so much apparent kindness when 
 the whim took him, that, if possible, he would have deceived 
 the very elect. But as his wife was his elect, she could not 
 be altogether deceived, but was often bewildered, and knew 
 not what to think of him. It was a pity that he should have 
 been a slave to so all-devouring a passion as jealousy without 
 a cause. 
 
 They called to see the bride. Evans and his vafe met 
 them, and welcomed them cordially. Evans's wife seemed 
 to be all kindness and attention to his children, especially 
 to the little boy about two or three years old. The little 
 fellow fell from the doorsteps, and she ran to gather him 
 up, as any mother would have done. She appeared to be 
 very friendly to Smith's wife. But Smith himself, in after 
 days, did not like her, because he thought she would boast 
 about getting this or that, in his presence, from Evans's 
 father, saying, " I got such and such a thing from Pa's," 
 which Smith felt himself above asking for. Moreover, he 
 said he thought the old people, since his last marriage, 
 wished him to have nothing they had, lest his youngest 
 children by his last wife w^ould get some of it. He fretted 
 himself a great deal about it, and was constantly speaking 
 against the old gentleman on account of it, until Mrs. 
 Smith's very soul was sick of it. And truly it was a selfish 
 way of doing business ; and they (the relations) did many 
 
AKD HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 119 
 
 tilings which they ought not to have done, and such as the 
 good man saw in a very different light from earth's light, 
 as soon as he got into the spirit land, where all is peace and 
 harmony, love to God and man ; waiting on the heirs of 
 salvation, instead of fretting about them getting a little 
 of our earthly estate. 
 
 Mrs. Smith did not fret about it at all, for she cared not 
 about it. She had ten thousand times rather that the old 
 gentleman would have visited them, been kind to them, 
 spoken affectionately to her, and looked upon her as a loving 
 relation, than to have been heir to his whole patrimony. 
 She looked upon these things in the light of eternity ; so far 
 preferable is love and loving-kindness than all the wealth 
 of the world. We have but one journey to make through 
 life ; none can return and mend his wrongs ; and the more 
 we can help one another through life, the more pain we can 
 relieve, the drooping heart cheer, the happier we shall be 
 in that better v/orld. And we doubt not that the good man, 
 from his happy place of observation, looked down upon 
 the past with regret, (if regret can enter heaven,) that things 
 had not, so far as his influence extended, been managed more 
 amicably, and in the light of eternity. But should Smith 
 have fretted about it ? Why not move off and leave them, 
 and raise his own family, so that he could ever have peace 
 and happiness at home? And if he cared not about the 
 old gentleman's property, why make any ado about it ? . He 
 should have said less, and acted more on a surer founda- 
 tion ; so that his younger heirs, after his death, should not 
 have been so egregiously wronged, as tliey were, about that 
 very moiety of property by his elder heirs. This windy 
 way of doing business never sets anything to rights. And 
 as a man of some means and business, who had managed 
 property, he acted in the lamest way he could have done, 
 and in the surest way to instigate and induce and leave a 
 
120 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 cause of litigation, and put these unoffending fatherless 
 babes in the power of those who wished to fleece them, and 
 turn them loose in the world. He made a will, in which 
 he tried to be equal, and which a very interested pettifogger 
 said he thought the most equal he ever saw, where there 
 were so many legatees. But Smith had said he never would 
 have the property from the old gentleman, but his first 
 wife's children should have it ; for she (his wife) had done 
 as much for her parents as the rest of their children. The 
 old gentleman sent the lot of property that would have 
 been his daughter's, Smith's first wife. Smith sent it back, 
 and would not keep it. Subsequently the old gentleman 
 sent it back by Smith's eldest boy, with word for Smith to 
 do as he pleased with it. No written instrument accom- 
 panying it, that we knew of, Smith lumped it, and all his 
 other property from his own father, inherited and accumu- 
 lated together ; made a will which he was working at for 
 years, in which to some of his elder children, then married 
 and being married, he would give one of these negroes (who, 
 by the way, were not the most valuable) in a lot of so 
 many of his own, as far as they went, and then made the 
 balance of his children (among which were his second wife's 
 children, and some of the youngest of his first wife's) equal 
 out of his own property. And thus it was left. After his 
 death, his heirs, having squabbled all their life about a little 
 property, squabbled to the end. They set the will aside ; 
 put everything together ; valued property received by them 
 some years previous at the lowest possible figures ; and the 
 balance now left on hand at Smith's death, was valued to 
 them, the helpless orphans — all infants — at the highest 
 possible figures. They then drew from the estate the sepa- 
 rate part sent by their grandfather to their father, and 
 claimed and obtained an equal share of all the balance. 
 Among the fleeced lambs were their own orphan brother 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 121 
 
 and sister, children of their own mother, who of course got 
 a pittance of the moiety of contention, but wouhl have 
 been better provided tor if left as the father had willed. 
 
 Mrs. Smith saw in the contention, in one of the deposi- 
 tions taken, that the very day her eldest son was born, the 
 old gentleman — the elder heir's grandfather — had willed 
 this property separately to his wife's children, so that it was 
 not in the eyes of the law Smith's property. And such 
 another medley and confusion hardly ever wa^ known about 
 so small an amount of property. More lies and tales were 
 told about it than ever will be made right in this world, Ave 
 suppose, and more than ten thousand dollars are worth, we 
 think ; because moral rectitude, and just and righteous 
 and merciful dealing — doing unto others as we would they 
 should do unto us — never, never can be valued at the price 
 of earthly gain. But as this is not the time and place for 
 this discussion, we will desist from it till the day comes for 
 its full detail in all its bearings on all parties, and will 
 simply remark, that we think Smith would have been better 
 employed, by leaving ofi' the windy part of the matter, and 
 looking into and arranging these afiairs difierently, for the 
 benefit of his helpless ofispriug in a coming day. For a 
 man of business and property, he looked very lightly into 
 the far distant future, and made but poor, lame preparation 
 for it. 
 
 But to return. His present wife had no children to be 
 in the way, nor was it until two years after that she did 
 have. He was right in thinking that his first wife's chil- 
 dren should have an equal share of the grandparent's prop- 
 erty, as their other grandchildren, inasmuch as he said she 
 had done as much for her parents as any of their children. 
 But why let his innocent young wife be censured and blamed 
 on every side, while he alone was to blame ? And why let 
 her helpless ofispring be left so that they could be cheated 
 11 
 
122 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 out of all but a bare pittance, bardly enough to clothe and 
 educate them, when he could have made a different aiTange- 
 ment ? He received an equal or greater amount from his 
 father's estate, that is more in value, for it was in silver, 
 and more valuable negroes, and could have been placed 
 where the other grandfather's property left off ; and then 
 let them all have an equal share of his own acquired prop- 
 erty, inasmuch as he always said he would give unto his 
 youngest children an equal share v/ith the first set of chil- 
 dren. No ; he was always at loggerheads about it, and that, 
 with his unjust jealousies, took up his time, so that he could 
 neither see clear nor straight, nor " afar off." For if he had 
 acted justly and rightly himself, that young, unsuspecting 
 creature would never have been among them as a bone of 
 contention — she nor her more helpless children, who were 
 a bone of contention among his first children as long as 
 there was a bone to contend about. And some of these in- 
 nocent helpless ones were turned off into the world without 
 a red cent from their father's estate. If he had cared for 
 or respected their views in his second marriage, mayhap the 
 relations never would have acted as they did. And as he 
 acted independently of them in one instance, why not in all ? 
 Ah me ! how few know how to wield the weapons aright put 
 into their hands to work out their own happiness, and the 
 happiness of others intrusted to their care. But so it is, 
 and so it ever has been, and so we fear it ever will be. Men 
 do not know, do not always care, or are too indolent often, 
 to take the necessary pains to make themselves happy and 
 others dependent uj)on them for happiness, especially when 
 there is much labor requisite, but sit down in supine laziness 
 and expect happiness to grow up of itself, and thus let the 
 slumbering volcanoes of passion burst bounds and scatter 
 lava and death all around. As well may we expect and look 
 for peace and joy to grow up of themselves without care and 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 123 
 
 cultivation, as tliat our gardens and fields will produce good 
 fruits without culture. " Be not deceived ; God is not mocked : 
 for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he 
 that soweth to his flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption ; 
 but he that soweth to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life 
 everlasting." " If ye sow the wind, ye shall reap the whirl- 
 wind." 
 
 In one initiated into the minutiae of the underworkings 
 of the mind, the secret sayings of the children, and the 
 undercurrent of everyday affairs at Smith's, the results 
 which followed would have been legitimate results — some- 
 thing looked for and expected. 
 
 The same year that Evans took his young wife, both the 
 young woman became enceinte — that is, Mrs. Smith and 
 Mrs. Evans. And notwithstanding the great desire Mrs. 
 Smith had never to have any children, on account of the 
 unfavorable circumstances under which she was placed, 
 and Smith's beautiful words about another brood of chil-' 
 dren coming ; yet he would be constantly saying, " Oh, I 
 want you to have one little boy at least, to remember me by 
 when I am dead and gone ! " for he was ever in those days 
 talking about dying. But she remembered the time when, 
 sick and vomiting, while enceinte with her first child, in- 
 stead of holding her head, and sympathizing with her as he 
 did sometimes when sick, he said, " I must get up, and go 
 to work, for there is another brood of children coming." 
 Mrs. Smith never forgot those cruel words, as they sounded 
 to her as a young wife. And now that child was out of the 
 way, she wanted no more in it. In her own mind, she 
 looked upon him as an unkind and wretchedly inconsistent 
 man, and asked herself why he had not married some wo- 
 man old enough not to have children, and by that means 
 have kept down part of the anger, at least', of his first 
 brood. No ; but he must grasp a young blooming creature, 
 
124 
 
 BREAD OF PIEAVEN, 
 
 and then expect her to be as sterile as a rock, with such a 
 man as he was of amorousness, and legal debauch beyond 
 the conception of all modest people on the earth. Worse 
 than fool was he; he w^ished the enjoyment, the pleasure 
 of a young woman, but not the trouble. And do we blame 
 the young wife for not wanting to have any children under 
 such delectable circumstances? "Nay," said she, "let me 
 work for your children : I desire none of my own." And she 
 was generous and benevolent enough to do it, and did it — 
 more than she was ever able, after being worn down by per- 
 secution and sickness, both mental and physical, to do for 
 her own children in after days. To this, high heaven is a 
 grand and important and impartial witness, having been 
 the sole spectator of all her conduct through the whole of 
 those wearisome, toilsome years, for which she never ha« 
 received from that family one groat of thanks ; but, on the 
 contrary, anathemas and maranathas. To this she can lift her 
 hand to heaven any day, and know that God, the Almighty 
 Father of all flesh, will attest. She can lift them to heaven 
 in innocency, and feel his approval of all her conduct But 
 the worst of her fears were these ; as neither God nor intel- 
 lect was respected in the family, her children might partake 
 of the same nature, and conseqjjiently Avould be very low in 
 the scale of being, if neither Christian nor intellectual ; for 
 what is any human beiug without either God or a cultivated 
 mind ? Is he not worse even than a brute ? for if not filled 
 with good — his duty to that All-wise Being — is he not 
 necessarily filled with evil ? and if evil predominates, is he 
 not lower than the brutes ? The brute creation do not sin, 
 because they are not endowed with reason and intellectual 
 powers. She knew also, from the little desire she had for 
 children, there might be but little of her own nature and 
 disposition in their composition. Some great man, in writ- 
 ing on this subject, says, he who marries for the gratification 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 125 
 
 of the flesli principally, generally has rebellious and dis- 
 obedient children. This Smith did first and last ; from his 
 own lips it proceeded ; for he said to his second wife, " If he 
 had thought he could have lived without a woman, he never 
 would have married in the first instanced' And can we think 
 he married for heavenly purposes in the second ? We think 
 not, for if he had, he was now in possession of one who 
 would have been the happiest woman in the world, if she 
 could have said, as Mrs. Fletcher did, " Three years and 
 six months have I possessed my heavenly-minded husband." 
 
 This was indeed a gloomy future for a devoted Christian ; 
 yet not more gloomy than true, as the sequel will prov'e ; 
 she herself marrying only, as she thought, in the fear of 
 God, and to do good. But she once read, while passing 
 through these perplexing scenes, that, by the Lord's people 
 not having children, the world would be deprived of the off- 
 spring of the best people of the earth. 
 
 Then she remembered, also, that education, both moral 
 and religious, has so mAich to do with the human mind, that 
 it is almost everything. Take, for example, the savage. 
 Educate him while young, and teach him the knowledge of 
 his Maker ; let his lot be cast among the civilized of the 
 earth, and he is a very different creature from what he would 
 have been if he had roamed, unmolested, the forests and 
 hunting-grounds, untaught and uneducated. But she 
 trembled with apprehension lest she might never have the 
 opportunity of raising her offspring in the good and desir- 
 able way of the Lord. A fear too well grounded, and one 
 felt and realized to this day. 
 
 And are we not awa^e of the influence the elder part of a 
 family exert over the young and rising branches ? Nor can 
 we altogether destroy that influence, unless removed from 
 under it, before our young and tender ones are old enough 
 to be materially affected by it ! She never coidd inspire the 
 11* 
 
126 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 elder members of the family with confidenee in her good 
 precepts and examples ; from what cause, we never could tell, 
 unless it was owing to the inconsistency of the father's con- 
 duct, which, considered with hers, was a unit ; nay, even 
 worse. If he did a misdemeanor, or w^as in any manner, form, 
 or shape overbearing or tyrannical towards his children, 
 — of which she thought him guilty in many instances, and 
 then indulgent in the wrong way and time, — it was all laid 
 to her charge, as if their father had not done them a wrong 
 many times before either party ever saw her face ; and 
 many wrongs had they done to the father, from what they 
 would say to one another in her presence. Hence all con- 
 fidence was destroyed, and consequently no love existed on 
 their part, though, from all we could ever see, he was to 
 blame. But what could she do in such a case ? Absolutely 
 nothing. But if they had possessed any generosity at all 
 towards this pure person, who really did, from the bottom 
 of her heart, wish their present and eternal welfare, they 
 could have seen that many times, when it would at all com- 
 port with her duty as a wife, she ever endeavored to do 
 them a pleasure. Yea, more ; she often went counter to his 
 expressed will to oblige them, thinking that he ought not to 
 be too much displeased, because they were his own children. 
 And yet, shall we believe it, she often brought down his 
 displeasure upon her own innocent head, at the same time 
 receiving no thanks nor credit from them ? This is as true 
 as the pillars of heaven are strong, It can neither be gain- 
 said nor refuted. Who would have acted thus in such a 
 place? Could any but the most courageous Christian, 
 trusting in the merits of her almighty Redeemer, who did 
 thus for an ungrateful world ? But she had put her hand 
 to the plough, and was determined not to look back, if 
 possible. And she never did look back, but followed in the 
 footsteps of her Saviour, wherever she could find them. 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 127 
 
 Even disinterested persons have "been heard to say, " Why 
 does Mk. Smith fix up and dress those chiklren so much ? 
 It is no advantage to her. If she was a selfish voman, she 
 "wouhi not care for their having so much as she gets for 
 them, but wouhi be haying up for the time she has chihlren 
 of her o^vn," But in the family all these ■well-meant efibrts 
 were lost, or some sinister motive assigned, such as she 
 wished to please the eyes of the world, or that it was no more 
 than what she ought to do, and a great deal more besides, 
 and no thanks to her ; not even guessing at the real motive 
 — that it was to approve herself in the eyes of her cdl'seeing 
 Judge, to whom she appealed in all her acts, expectiug and 
 knowing that she would meet them again at his jvM tribu- 
 nal, and there receive the welcome plaudit of Well done, 
 good and faithful servant, thou hast been faithful over a 
 few things, enter thou into the joy of the Lord I " And we 
 solemnly vow before Almighty God, there is not the human 
 in earth, or in heaven, or the other place, who can tell the 
 truth and gainsay these assertions. Our enemies themselves 
 being judges, who are still in the fiesh, if they are not 
 wrapped in the mantle of jealousy, prejudice, and envy, 
 will say this is the truth. And if they kUl not now admit 
 the truth, there is a coming day when they shall be made to 
 acknowledge it. Wrong and oppression, and taking from 
 motherless children, could never have entered Mrs. Smith's 
 heart, much less dwell there. And, good heavens I she 
 could not have wished to get for them in order to get a 
 little for herself : for she had a matter of more than twenty 
 cbesses when she married, many of which were very soon 
 distributed among the children and negroes. Her very 
 gracious husband told her from the beginning ''to do just 
 as she pleased in getting for herself and family." But more 
 of this further ahead. 
 
 She had never lost sight of pleasing this gracious master 
 
128 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 any more than the first " brood " he had. But her princi- 
 ples of action were too high and holy to be attributed by 
 them to any of her doings ; for how could they, from their 
 stand-point, judge of another any other way than by their 
 own evil hearts ? Especially of one whom they hated, and 
 had, by their prejudice, malice, envy, and jealousies, clothed 
 in a bearshin. One great man says, "Dress a man in a 
 bearskin, and he may be worried by his own dogs." 
 
 Because " Pa " had a few negroes, these poor misguided 
 and ill-informed children thought that, as their father's wife 
 had not also a few of the kinky heads, it was eternal dam- 
 nation to her; and that she (poor dog) should consider her- 
 self highly honored to be even among them. No matter 
 what treatment she received, it was good enough, nay, far 
 too good for her — not considering that their father's wife 
 had that which was infinitely more valuable than all the 
 negroes their father possessed, and all that their relations 
 owned on both sides. And as to love, gracious heavens ! 
 whatever of the divine principle might lodge in their souls, 
 they had no share for the hated wife of their father. But 
 if she had gone among them as their cousin, as in fact she 
 was, though they acted as Edomite kin, we doubt not, not- 
 withstanding what their minds or dispositions were, they 
 would, being thus free from the long-rooted prejudices of 
 an expected successor to their own dear mother, have loved 
 their cousin as much any one else. 
 
 But we digress, having had no intention, in the beginning, 
 of wandering into fields of thought more properly belonging 
 to another work, to which we have made some allusion in 
 these pages. We wonder if that will afford us more enter- 
 tainment ; for this, we feel, is often so absolutely painful — 
 such a detail of a jealous man's everyday doings — that we 
 are indeed grieved. And yet it is almost impossible, at this 
 lapse of time, to detail all, nay, even half, so many things 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 129 
 
 in this line happening and recurring so often, ^hich are for- 
 gotten and sunk into oblivion. AVouid one say all ought to 
 have been forgotten and sunk in like manner? Not so, sir, 
 for they never could. There would be the day for develop- 
 ment, whether we like it or not. We guess we will find 
 some grievous scenes in the work alluded to, and such as 
 ought almost to clothe the sun in sackcloth. But we pro- 
 ceed in our present work. 
 
 During the same year that Smith and his wife visited his 
 father, the old gentleman died. Smith received a considera- 
 ble portion of property from his father's estate, both in 
 money and negroes. Smith's eldest daughter had married, 
 and settled on her father's land, at the suggestion of Mrs. 
 Smith ; because he was yet displeased with the obnoxious 
 suitor, now son-in-law. 
 
 Mrs. , his first wife's sister, who spoke to him about 
 
 his keeping his second marriage a secret (till it was over) 
 from them, and the same one who so kindly entertained 
 them at the camp-meetings already mentioned, came to 
 Smith's, one Sabbath afternoon, while he was very much 
 indisposed, and had been suffering from intermittent chills 
 and fever, and began to lecture Smith about what he had 
 given his first daughter, without knowing ichat he had given 
 her. She knew as well a^ others that Smith did not like 
 his daughter's marriage, and would not even get the child a 
 wedding-dress, but let her be married in clothes she already 
 had. Mrs. Smith, if allowed, w"ould have gotten her a full 
 wedding trousseau. But, as it was, she had to make a small 
 supper for her as best she could. We wonder if they were 
 not wicked enough in their hearts to blame her for that 
 also ? We never heard, and consequently cannot deny or 
 affirm that matter. But if they did, never were any set of 
 
 people or children more deceived. Mr. , the lady's 
 
 husband, and Smith, both seemed to be offended at the 
 
 I 
 
130 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 lady's words. Mrs. Smith said nothing to all this until a 
 
 proper time ; but Mrs. went on, and said her " Sister 
 
 Smith lived very eco7iomically," till those two men were irri- 
 tated at her words, and, to save what they thought must 
 
 be Mrs. Smith's feelings, took her part. Mr. actually 
 
 telling his wife " to hush, that she would hurt Mrs. Smith's 
 feelings." 
 
 " Ah," said Mrs. Smith, after having patiently heard the 
 lady's words, " that she will not do. I make no ado about 
 these things." 
 
 Smith had told his wife that Mr. was a friend of 
 
 hers, often praising her for her neat housekeeping, and say- 
 ing, " if Grace had these tables she would make them shine." 
 And in speaking of Smith's children, " often called Smith's 
 residence Seminole town." Smith himself affected to be 
 perfectly delighted with his wife in the domestic depart- 
 ment, saying he did not expect her to know anything but 
 books. He was surprised to find her, in their own language, 
 a splendid housekeeper, and seemed to know everything use- 
 ful ; so much so, that an old acquaintance, friend, and 
 neighbor exclaimed to her, one day, " Why, how smart 
 are you going to get ? " Thus she was praised and com- 
 mended amid all her troubles, which was but a poor relief 
 
 to a broken heart. And while Mrs. was going on and 
 
 talking about property. Smith, from his low bed on which 
 he was reclining, raised himself up and exclaimed, " Well, 
 Grace, you can have what befell me from my father's estate, 
 and that will be more than they all have." But none of these 
 things seemed to move Mrs. Smith, for she felt and knew 
 there was a principle of destruction at the bottom of it all. 
 And oh, how true ! 
 
 During the spring following she and Smith, one day, had 
 been gardening, at which Mrs. Smith was very expert. She 
 went over a very large garden and sowed all the seeds, after 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 131 
 
 Smith had laid off the little furrows. After they had 
 finished their work, she came in and lay down to rest.awliile, 
 it being now in the afternoon, having been working in the 
 garden all day. She said to Smith, her husband, while thus 
 occupied : 
 
 "Mr. Smith, I wish you would just buy me one more 
 barrel of flour, and that, with what we have on hand, with 
 economy and good care, I think I can make last until wheat 
 comes in again, and have enough to use pretty generally." 
 
 He said nothing, but went off to the field. After she had 
 rested awhile, she arose, and dressed his two little children, 
 and went to see Mrs. Evans, their aunt. 
 
 Now, after Smith had received his legacy from his father's 
 estate, some five or six hundred dollars being in silver 
 money, and he having no very safe place in which to keep 
 it, it was deposited in one of Mrs. Smith's trunks for safe- 
 keeping, and she entrusted with the keys. She had not 
 been long at Evans's before Smith returned from the field, 
 and, finding her absent, sent for the keys of the trunk, which 
 she very readily sent to him, thinking nothing of it. Though 
 so full of freaks, and so uncertain in his passions, with or 
 without cause, about everyday matters, she cast in her 
 mind, however, that he perhaps wished to count over his 
 money — a habit he followed occasionally. And thus she 
 and the little ones remained till nearly sundown, and then 
 returned home. Evans's wife had brought a fine piano 
 home with her, and had been playing, and Mrs. Smith, as was 
 usual with her during these days of pent-up sorrow, wept, 
 as she did whenever she heard the sound of that instrument 
 or any other. 
 
 " Cousin Grace," said Evans, " Mr. Smith has plenty of 
 
 money by him now ; ask him to send by me to jM , and 
 
 get you a piano." 
 
 Alas ! poor woman^ she never even thought of asking him 
 this favor. 
 
132 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 She was met by him on her return home ; he, sly, wolf- 
 like sneak, waiting for the little children and nurse to get 
 ahead of them, and then with the most grimacing, fiendish 
 countenance that ever poor Grace beheld, accused her of 
 taking money out of the trunk and carrying it to Evans, to 
 "Buy the barrel of flour spoken of above ! Poor creature ! 
 she never had even thought of doing so, nor had she ever 
 touched a cent of the money in that trunk, nor would she 
 have touched it upon any consideration in the world, any 
 more than if it had belonged to the greatest stranger in the 
 whole country. The trust was too sacred in her estimation. 
 She never did think of touching a particle of it, although 
 this was part of the legacy of which he had said, " Grace, 
 you can have what came from my father's estate, and that 
 will be more than they all have." 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 MORE OF smith's FALSE ACCUSATIONS. 
 
 A MIGHTY great all, when the smell of the fires of per- 
 dition was on it. And what wife in the world, clothed 
 with flesh and blood, could ever have endured this incessant 
 false accusing, without the shadow of a cause, and not have 
 her honest indignation raised to the boiling pitch ? Espe- 
 cially one who was, like herself, resolute and brave in time 
 of danger, though gentle and calm as summer evenings are 
 under ordinary circumstances. 
 
 Tyrannical masters are said to make dishonest servants. 
 Tyrannical husbands, if they do no more, make broken- 
 hearted wives. What could sustain her in these trying 
 hours, when there was no earthly friend? What else could 
 
AIxD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 133 
 
 lie expect but loathing in the conjugal state? That night 
 he "was doubtless as amorous as ever, and with words of en- 
 dearment, such as '''my dear/'" My God, if we were trans- 
 ported back to that time and placed under those delicious 
 moments, with such a son of Belial, we tow before the good 
 Lord, with our present views and knowledge of facts, we 
 would have quit that lioly drive forever I Nothing could 
 have been worse this side of eternal perdition. But we 
 asked what sustained her ? I '11 tell you what. It was the 
 almighty power of God, the omnipotence of faith. But 
 for the assurance that such Hangs could not last forever, it 
 would have been an intolerable hell to her sensitive and 
 high-minded soul. And to lie down in the conjugal bed 
 that same night with such a brute, O God, it was intolera- 
 ble I She was completely petrified for awhile. 
 
 They walked on until they arrived at the gate opening to 
 his dwelling, still talking, as he was, in so awful a manner. 
 She could not remember the hateful words, as thick as hail 
 they came ; and then, being able to hold her peace no longer, 
 burst forth in weeping, lamentation, and crying aloud, as if 
 her heart would break, which, we may be sure, must have 
 been to her a whirlpool or thunder-gust, else she would not 
 have wept at all before her tyrannical accuser. Her pride 
 must have been all prostrate now, else she never would have 
 cried aloud. For, from her youth, from some causes early 
 and deeply impressed upon her youthful mind, she was 
 determined never, if it were possible to help it, to let the ear 
 of mortal man, especially a cruel man, hear her weep aloud I 
 But the tyrant, as if from fear that the children and ser- 
 vants would hear her, stormed out at her to " hush," for 
 we suppose he was not much afraid of sympathy from them 
 in her behalf If he was afraid, she was not from that 
 quarter, and from him there was no redress I He was more 
 afraid (if that sentiment at all arose in his mind; that the 
 12 
 
134 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 curtain unfurled by her tears, or uplifted, would display 
 such a show behind, as it was to his interests to keep hidden. 
 His was the hidden path, and closed curtains and sly doings 
 behind. And although a perfect tempest of grief and woe 
 besieged her aching heart, yet she endeavored to still the 
 raging within, and stay the bursting flood of contending, 
 grieved, and aggrieved passions, and said to her tenderest 
 emotions, " Peace, be still ! " She acted from prudence, 
 because she did not wish them to see her weep. She went 
 into the house, entirely abstracted from all below, gave the 
 keys to the house-girl to prepare the table for supper, and 
 sat at the fireside, in the presence of her tyrant, his children, 
 and servants, and was to all appearances as calm as ever. 
 But oh, the heart was in deep meditation, taking little or 
 no account of anything around her. Her heart was far 
 away from these unholy scenes, in its holy and sacred, be- 
 calmed and sanctified feelings before her God. Now this 
 is some of your good husbands outwardly, but inwardly are 
 they not ravening wolves ? Are we uncharitable in saying 
 so ? Could such a circumstance as this fail to bring to her 
 mind " the great mind to get a fine carriage, to spite the 
 relations of his first wife ? " Spitework ! Ah ! this is your 
 way, is it? Well, it is just what we might have expected. 
 A piano, indeed ! although suggested now twice by Evans, 
 who, if he had been so afraid of her enjoying anything, lest 
 it might take something from his sister's children, would 
 never have named such a thing. A piano, indeed ! What 
 does a man absorbed in self and flesh and the world want 
 with music ? Music and flowers are paltry things to him. 
 It is the jingle of the almighty dollar that has the greatest 
 music for his sordid soul, of any jingle that he could hear 
 in earth, or heaven itself. A piano, indeed ! The fine 
 carriage spoken of by himself alone, to spite his first wife's 
 relations, never came — leaving but the piano. Now it was 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 135 
 
 so that after Smith had sent to his wife for the trunk keys, and 
 had looked over his money, and like he was in his jealousies, 
 he imagined he missed ^ome, which he found out afterwards 
 was all imagination only ; for he acknowledged that there 
 was not one cent missing ! But what was to restore to her 
 her rights as an honest, upright woman ? Ah ! nobody 
 knew this beautiful feature of his awful goodness, but God 
 and themselves — for his wife never told it. And some 
 thought Smith a good husband, v>-hich Mrs. Smith, for his 
 credit's sake, did not contradict. On the contrary, if any one 
 had told her she had a bad husband, she would have 
 thought that one offensively meddlesome, so much did she 
 wish him to be thought a good husband, and much more did 
 she desire that it was a reality. For it ivas thought and said 
 by his children and some of his negroes, that she did as she 
 pleased. This was one beautiful specimen of it — not even 
 daring to ■ ask him to buy one barrel of flour, without 
 beiiig suspected after this sort. Was it not enough to have 
 driven her mad, and make her reckless of what she did, or 
 how she managed anything f when his suspicions for evil 
 were not confined to one thing alone, but to everything, 
 "My dear, do just as you please," he would often say, espe- 
 cially immediately after their marriage. How taunting to 
 her ears, and how with holy scorn she ofttimes remem- 
 bered it. 
 
 That year they sent one of his daughters — the second 
 one — abroad to school. This girl, now about sixteen, at- 
 tended school from home about nine months. During the 
 summer, when the first examination came off, the father and 
 mother were invited to go. Mrs. Smith went in company 
 with her husband to their county town to make some pur- 
 chases preparatory to going on this pleasant trip ; some she 
 made for the daughter, and some for hei'self, and, among 
 other articles, she bought materials to make a white silk 
 bonnet. Smith assisted in making the selection. 
 
136 
 
 BKEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 One day, soon after, he got into one of his fits, and said 
 to her, " You have begun to rejoice at my death too soon, in 
 getting a white bonnet." 
 
 She said nothing in reply, for what was the use, to such 
 a man ? but thought what could a white bonnet have to 
 do with his death ? For she was sure, if he were to die first, 
 she would wear a black bonnet, at least for a proper length 
 of time. She made the clothing for herself, the daughter, 
 and husband, and was now ready to go. 
 
 One day before the time set for them to go, she and Smith 
 went out in the country to the church. One of the old do- 
 mestics exclaimed, " Why, Miss Grace, you look more like 
 master's daughter than his wife, so tastily dressed, and so 
 young looking and beautiful." When they returned, it hap- 
 pened that one of the negro women, having been threatened 
 about some of her ill habits, that were likely to bring mis- 
 chief and trouble, ran away. She was a mean, trifling 
 creature, one who had been bought with the said silver 
 money before-mentioned that was so sacred. Smith, under 
 the pretext of looking for her, went after her, at the same 
 time having a grown son whom he could have sent as well 
 as to go himself And thus ended their contemplated trip 
 to the examination, upon which Mrs. Smith had set her 
 heart. And so it nearly always was. If she had antici- 
 pated the greatest journey or enjoyment in the world, it 
 was liable to be frustrated by a mere whim, or irregularity, 
 of this very irregular family and its master. All pleasure 
 of seeing the daughter, and being at the examination, and 
 all refreshment arising from a pleasure like this, to a weary 
 mind, and of seeing old friends, was ended. Under such 
 rubbish as she lived, she must remain ever (so far as seeing 
 society that she loved was concerned), and rust out, if she 
 could not brighten herself up. And surely such delectable 
 speeches as she was daily compelled to hear at home were 
 
AND 
 
 HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 137 
 
 well suited to exhilarate her mind and sharpen her intel- 
 lect, ironically speaking. 
 
 Not long after, they attended an examination of their 
 
 boys, in their own county town. The teacher, a Mr. T , 
 
 was one of considerable merit, who came from V to 
 
 teach school that year in the same academy where Mrs. 
 Smith and the good Presbyterian minister had taught be- 
 fore her marriage. He having heard of Mrs. Smith's liter- 
 ary character, had sent an invitation for her and Smith to 
 visit his school, and be present when their children were 
 examined. After the hours appointed for this purpose were 
 
 passed, Mr. T sought an acquaintance with Mrs. Smith, 
 
 and while conversing on the difierent branches of education. 
 Smith did not have common politeness enough to wait on 
 them awhile, but went out to the carriage to make prepara- 
 tion for going home. They cut short their conversation by 
 only a few words, Mrs. Smith not daring to invite him out 
 to visit them, as the teacher of their children would natu- 
 rally expect ; and Smith, we suppose, would rather have 
 asked a hoosier than this teacher of his children, lest his wife 
 and he might have some pleasant conversation on the dif- 
 ferent sciences. The gentleman, who knew nothing of Smith's 
 peculiarities, handed or passed his hand towards Mrs. Smith 
 to assist her into the carriage. Mrs. Smith saw the offered 
 hand ; she saw her husband's; too, at the same time, which 
 she took instead of the gentleman's. Perhaps, in justice to 
 Smith, he might not have seen the offered hand ; but if he 
 had, it would have been all the same, as he seemed afraid 
 for any to touch even the hand of his young wife, or to look 
 at her, such was, as he would often say, her sweetness of dis- 
 position and goodness of heart. And yet he would every now 
 and then, even yet, taunt her with her cousin Evans. For- 
 tunately, she escaped any allusion to the teacher in question. 
 
 And now, gentle reader, do we say too much, when we 
 12* 
 
138 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 say that her work of self-immolation had commenced ? com- 
 pletely, and almost forever, sacrificed on the altar of his 
 lust and selfishness — overweening selfishness — such as we 
 never beheld before, and pray the good Lord that we may 
 never see again. For the life that is within us, we cannot 
 see what would have pleased Smith better than he was 
 pleased, unless it had been that his wife was ever and forever 
 with him, and had never gone to church, nor anywhere else 
 — -never have appeared in public at all; nay, that would 
 not have sufficed him, for if at any time she complained the 
 least bit in the world of headaches, or other aches common 
 to married women, he would instantly fly into flinders ; his 
 fits of imagination would come on, with his unbounded 
 amorousness combined, and would let loose such foul volleys 
 of abuse with his tongue — vile, low, vulgar words — that 
 her very soul would be withered to death for the time. And 
 on such occasions she would lie all night and endure it, and 
 by morning light her inward agitation would be so great, 
 that a burning headache would be the consequence, and she 
 would be compelled to remain in bed all day, and perhaps 
 not eat a mouthful till evening again ; no one, so far as we 
 knew, suspecting the cause. Yet she, with a calm face, 
 would bear it, and then get up and be cheerful. 
 
 Ye blue-bearded bashaws of Turkish history, who are so 
 much blamed for your harems and twelve wives, ye are 
 saints, compared with some so-called Christians in this our 
 beloved country ! For we do suppose that the judgment 
 day will reveal as many skulls and bones of dead wives, 
 although enclosed in coffins, as will be found for you about 
 the Turkish dominions ! High heaven is a witness whether 
 this guess be wide of the truth or not ! We think it no 
 overwrought picture ; nor would any one think so, who has 
 seen as much behind the screen as we have. Smith would 
 most generally be softened a little, in those days, by her 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 139 
 
 deep suffering, for he was obliged to know the cause. And 
 when he would come around her, in a soft and soothing way, 
 and say, " My dear, I am sorry I talked so to you," instantly 
 it would act like a charm on her, and she would get better 
 of her pains. Mayhap he was actuated by selfishness ; per- 
 haps feared he might lose her, and then he could not have 
 had one to vent his passions on, without getting a new 
 subject, and that would not have been so easy now as before. 
 But if we were to say that, during the fifteen or sixteen 
 years they lived together, this was the case thousands of 
 times, we do not think we should make a mistake. You say 
 it is horrible ! we admit. But not hrJf so horrible in detail 
 as in actual occurrence. You say you do not wish to hear 
 any more of it. Well, then, lay the book aside, and do not 
 read it. But we told you in the beginning of the entertain- 
 ment, that much would partake of bitter herbs. And we 
 do heartily wish that we could have something more agree- 
 able. But as we have begun, we must end this part of this 
 sad story. And as it grows worse, and still worse, you 
 must hear us to the end, or leave off, as suits your taste. 
 In some future work, dear reader, if we are permitted by 
 Divine Providence, ive do promise you something more cheer- 
 ing. But cannot you, as the Saviour of men asked his dis- 
 ciples, " Watch one hour " ? Vf atch, that ye enter not into 
 temptation. Watch, that you have not a similar fortune. 
 Watch one hour, and read the sufferings of one of your sex. 
 How then did she bear it for so long a time ? Ah ! say you, 
 we will not put ourselves in such a condition. Heaven 
 grant that you never may. But she once thought she 
 never would be in such a condition. Can we always 
 avert the dangers ahead of us? May you have a sure 
 guide and a better destiny ! We like not ourselves these 
 blood-and-tliunder stories — that is, too much of them. And 
 there is not much outward sign of bloodshed here yet, only 
 
140 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN", 
 
 the inward withering of a heart that was brave enougli 
 never to die to please bloodthirsty enemies ; or to go crazy, 
 and be put into an asylum, as some have been. Nay, we 
 have read of some of our sex who were lodged there hj force 
 when as sane as you or I or any man or woman in this 
 world. These things are distressing and harrowing to our 
 minds to read. But we do think we may patiently read 
 what others suffered, when it is all the truth, and might still 
 be more horrible and still be true, truer, truest. 
 
 But " there is a sadness brooding over me " again. Again 
 I must dip my pen in the ink of heaven, and go on my 
 weary way of painting these sorrowful pictures. We shall 
 now, dear reader, be conversant with some details of a dif- 
 ferent nature, and some of our pen-pictures will be of the 
 same sombre hue. Oh for one tint of heavenly ray, one 
 gleam of holy light, one beautiful rainbow in all its glori- 
 ous colors as the Bow of promise ! But it may not be yet. 
 
 The winter of that year had ushered in January of a new 
 year. A very clever old lady came to spend a month with 
 Mrs. Smith before her expected accouchement. One very 
 cold night the old lady wished to sleep by the fire. As 
 tbey had but two fireplaces, Mrs. Smith thought she would 
 have put a bed by the fire in the front room ; and as the 
 old lady was a very early riser, the bed and all could be 
 removed before the boys and younger members of the 
 family would be up, as they always remained in bed till 
 late. Smith sneaked to his wife's ears, and objected to this 
 arrangement ; so she did not make it, but put the old lady 
 in her room (which answered for dining-room, sitting of the 
 family, and all) by the fire for lodging. While in her condi- 
 tion, she, with Smith, took a little room from the fire. But 
 during the night he could not pass over in silence even this 
 trivial affair, but, like, a modern, full-grown bluebeard, 
 harrowed up her soul again, and said, "Somehow, you 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 141 
 
 have ways more like a bad woman than any woman I ever 
 saw." 
 
 Good gracious ! Mr. Smith, my good fellow, how came 
 you to know so much about bad women ? Has your asso- 
 ciation been so much with them that you know all their 
 ways ? Now this was a strange way for a bad woman to 
 have, and we demur from your premises and conclusions. 
 The knowledge of how a bad woman does is not among our 
 sciences, therefore we leave that desirable knowledge to your 
 noble self. But what putting a bed by the fire, on a very 
 cold night, in a room where there were servants enough to 
 have removed every vestige of it before daylight, and if not 
 the servants, the old lady herself^ being active and smart, 
 would have had all things cleared in double-quick time, 
 what this arrangement (only suggested by your poor, down- 
 trodden wife, but never carried out) had to do with the ways 
 of a bad woman, we confess to a want of insight into the 
 matter equal to your very penetrating eyes. 
 
 Small blue eyes, somewhat on the squint, we have of late 
 days heard were dangerous. Take care, dear young ladies, 
 of the blue squint eyes. But we do not believe that, if you 
 were one of the most egregious fools we ever saw, that your 
 knowledge was far beyond the comprehension of sensible 
 people, that " you strained at gnats and swallowed camels," 
 or, as the little boy said to his schoolmaster, " You strained 
 at a gate and swallowed a saw-mill." All this time, the old 
 lady thought and said Smith was the most agreeable man 
 in his family that she knew; and she was in the habit of 
 staying in many families. But it happened that during the 
 time she spent in the family, Smith had no outbreaks, and 
 what he said to his poor wife she ever kept to herself ' But 
 be it to his credit said that he was generally outwardly 
 agreeable. And sometimes, for two or three months at a 
 time, not a cross word nor wry look would pass from him 
 
142 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 to his wife, which was more the result of her prudence and 
 silence, and meekness and quietness, which, in the sight of 
 God, is of great price, than anything on his part, and if his 
 moods could always have been divined and guessed by her, 
 she might have learned to ward off more of his outbreaks. 
 As a mettle horse must be understood, so we must know 
 the cause and rise of men's freaks, if we would prevent 
 them. But then, again, all at once, unexpectedly, and gen- 
 erally for the least cause, almost always imaginary, like a 
 spark in a ^ powder-keg, there would be an explosion, as 
 if, as the little girl said, he was " tired of 'having." (Be- 
 having, she meant.) 
 
 One day, at dinner-time (when he was in one of those 
 moods that men, and women, too, we fear, sometimes get 
 into, a want to find fault with somebody or something), the 
 common dinner-table being in use, Mrs. Smith had a nice 
 set of mahogany tables, which she had well covered, so that 
 the warm dishes should not injure them, and dined on them 
 that day. 
 
 Smith, being in one of those amiable moods above men- 
 tioned, about something some of his children had done, and 
 looking about to find something to feed this worse than 
 morbid state of mind, imagined he saw a crack in one leaf of 
 the folding-table, let out his bad humor, by saying, " Nothing 
 could be taken care ofi"," as he was so used to saying in his 
 first wife's lifetime. This was peculiarly cutting to Mrs. 
 Smith, for there never was a more careful, economical 
 housekeeper in the world. She took pleasure in having 
 everything " done decently, and in order." But what could 
 she have done more than she did ? Forty or fifty in oppo- 
 sition to one ? She might wear her life away, and yet have 
 things every now and then in confusion, for, to use some of 
 the relations' own words, " The children always took the 
 Louse." And at the same time she was so careful of every 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWIKE. 
 
 143 
 
 piece of furniture about the house, that she had it scrubbed 
 t^vo or three times a day, or a dozen times, if dust and dirt 
 collected sufficiently to call for this repetition of house- 
 keeping ; floors washed — all to keep neat and clean. The 
 more so, as she had so many who seemed to take pleasure 
 in throwing things out of order, if for no other purpose 
 than to spite her or give her extra labor. And in making 
 many bedclothes, one of the boys said it was not she who 
 did it, but the negroes ; as if the negroes would have made 
 any at all, if left to themselves. Wonder why they did not 
 ,have them on hand when she went to take shelter under 
 that unfriendly roof? True, Smith had negroes enough to 
 help do all this work of cleaning, and weaving counterpanes ^ 
 and coverlets, and making many quilts. But for Mrs. 
 Smith's ingenuity, dexterity, industry, unconquerable per- 
 severance, and directing and helping hand, we guess it 
 would have been as she found it — a poorly clad family, 
 poorly clad beds, and badly kept house. Let him who 
 dares gainsay this, and tell the truth. And, in truth, it was 
 fortunate that they had servants, some of whom were willing 
 to assist their mistress in carrying out all these useful mea- 
 sures of domestic economy, while there were others who 
 despised the labor, and joined in with the children, and 
 made quite a formidable army of opponents. But so long 
 as Smith did not oppose her, and allowed her, as he did in 
 those days, plenty of help — raw though they were, and 
 untaught in all these necessary arts until taught by her — 
 she held on her way gloriously, and rejoicing in her works. 
 But at these unkind words, " IS'othing could .be taken care 
 off," she was so blinded by grief suppressed that she could 
 not see herself, and thought it was a crack in the table. She 
 was so agitated that, as soon as she could leave the table, 
 she took her bonnet and got off to the forest, there to weep 
 all alone. And it was not until after lie was dead, thirteen 
 
H4 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 years after, when their property was appraised, she dis- 
 covered the mistake. It was a seam in the table-leaf, put 
 there when it was cemented together tvith glue by the workmen ! 
 So much for that piece of fault-finding. Some men think 
 because they are so great and ^irong-minded, and never stoop 
 to little things, they do not find fault without occasion. 
 But if this was not without occasion, it would puzzle our 
 brains to know what is. Again, we have heard it said that 
 great men are more vexed by gnats and flies than they 
 would be in the heat of battle. But we demur from all 
 such estimate of true greatness. Again, we have heard it 
 said fev/ great men appear great at home, in their chambers, 
 and among their own families and domestics. To this again 
 we object. And if the lords of creation knew how much it 
 detracts from them, and the soul-confiding love of a gentle 
 wife, his children and servants, fewer of them would keep 
 their surplus steam and ill humors to compliment their own 
 household with ; especially the wife of his bosom, whose 
 every nerve is in a quiver at the slightest blast of harshness 
 from him. 
 
 It is said of the good Mr. Fletcher, that he was truly 
 great at home. Also of Sir Isaac Newton, when his favorite 
 fice jumped upon his table, upset his candle, which con- 
 sumed some of his valuable papers; the labor of years, he 
 exclaimed, " O Diamond ! Diamond ! thou little knowest 
 the mischief thou hast done ! " A madman would have 
 thrown himself into a rage, and perhaps would have killed 
 poor Diamond. But would that have restored the lost 
 papers ? 
 
 Self-possession, self-control, and self-government are 
 marks of true greatness. Without these noble and enno- 
 bling traits, no man can lay claim legitimately to greatness. 
 And we do boldly assert that we never saw man or woman, 
 with or without cause, throw himself or herself into a rage. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE, 
 
 145 
 
 without feeling an inward contempt or pity for them. Men 
 generally, some men at least, object to, and have much to 
 say of, what they call strong-minded women. If our much 
 wronged sex have strong minds enough to keep themselves 
 from these ebullitions of passion, then we glory in this kind 
 of strong mind ; bid them God-speed, and say, " Go on your 
 way rejoicing, ye noble ones." " He that ruleth his own 
 spirit, is better than he that taketh a city." 
 
 In January the child was born — Grace's first born living 
 child, a fine boy, a noble little fellow. Oh how sweet he 
 was to the young mother ! She laid him by her side, and 
 sent her petitions to heaven that she might raise him in the 
 right way ! The old lady exclaimed, " Oh, I expect you 
 will make him mind right away, Mrs. Smith." And he was 
 a noble young man, one so aflTable, amiable, and lovely in 
 his ways, that he never had an enemy that we ever knew of. 
 He was the choice of his mother's flock, though she had 
 strong hopes in God of all her dear children, that " not a 
 hoof of them shall be left behind " in the great gathering 
 day of the Lord. Smith was very fond of this noble little 
 fellow ; and although he had many sons by his first wife, 
 yet he was as proud of that boy as if he had but the one. 
 He strongly resembled his mother in features and disposi- 
 tion, though enough like his father to have the impress of 
 the Smiths strongly stamped upon him. 
 
 For awhile now Smith was very kind to his wife, and 
 would take his boy in his arms, and sit and rock him, and 
 sing lullabies to him for hours at a time. Sometime after 
 Mrs. Smith was upon her feet again, he had purchased a 
 box of raisins, as he occasionally did ; and as the new fruit 
 was not ripe, and the preserves were low, she thought of 
 making a portion of the raisins into preserves. " If you 
 do," said Smith, " I will never buy any more." 
 
 They were at the dinner-table, before ^11 the children, 
 13 K 
 
146 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVES', 
 
 when he spoke thus. Mrs. Smith made no reply ; nor could 
 she now get up, and run with her grief, but her heart 
 swelled, the tears came to her eyes ; nor could she then have 
 restrained them for her life. They flowed spontaneously. 
 Smith drew near to her side, and said, " My dear, do what 
 you please with them." Her tears were stayed, her heart 
 soothed ; for it was not the disappointment of making the 
 preserves for his table, but the cross word that was a stab or 
 a dart to her sensitive soul. Sensitive, alas ! too sensitive 
 for a rough world like this, unless her lot could have been 
 cast among beings like herself, who are ever careful of the 
 feelings of others. 
 
 When her boy was about four months old, Mrs. Smith 
 wished to visit her dear mother, who was more than a hun- 
 dred miles off. Smith said he could not go with her, but 
 would have one of his sons accompany her, with the babe 
 and nurse. A fine intelligent boy he was by this time, with 
 clear, bright, expressive blue eyes — the very personification 
 of good nature and sweet temper. He would look into his 
 mother's sweet face and smile so knowingly, look at the 
 small flowers on his little calico dress, and laugh as if he 
 was very much amused. 
 
 And thus, one beautiful Monday morning in May, they set 
 off on their trip, after having a good deal of talk with her 
 husband about what would be safest for her to drive. They 
 settled upon an old mule, which was thought very gentle, 
 but they had not proceeded on their journey more than 
 seventeen miles, before the mule ran away, and came near 
 killing Mrs. Smith and her boy. While the son who accom- 
 panied her stopped behind to get a switch to make his pony 
 move faster, the mule got frightened at an old cart-body by 
 the way with the wheels on the top of it. Mrs. Smith saw 
 not the cart, nor anything, until the animal was flying over 
 logs and stumps and everything in her way. And to pre- 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 147 
 
 vent upsetting and dragging the carriage over her and the 
 child, reined with all her might the running animal between 
 two trees very near together, and snapped the shafts off at 
 the stirrups. Being so anxious to see her mother and sisters, 
 and to present her fine boy to them, she got the carriage 
 mended, exchanged the mule for a horse by the way, and 
 went on her way rejoicing that it was no woi-se. She arrived 
 among her relations and acquaintances, and, notwithstand- 
 ing Smith's course of conduct towards her, did not enjoy 
 herself away from him. There was now a, tie between them 
 that bound her to him, so that she was anxious and restless 
 when away from him. She remained only two or three 
 weeks, and then returned home, her youngest sister and 
 mother accompanying her. 
 
 But to cast our glance a little in retrospect, in tracing 
 jealousies in reference to Evans, until the time arrives when 
 Smith falls on some one else. Shortly after Mrs. Smith's 
 babe was born, and was about six weeks old, Evans came 
 in one day to see Smith on business; for, although his 
 brother-in-law, and Mrs. Smith's kinsman, he came very 
 seldom, unless about business matters. Mrs. Smith, ever 
 under restraint when he was about, went out about some 
 affairs in the kitchen, fearing something might be said to 
 her when he was gone. All this was cruel in Smith, and 
 must have appeared strange to Evans ; though whether he 
 ever thought of it, we never knew it. 
 
 One day she took her little charge and nurse (not neglect- 
 ing the other two little ones) and called to see Evans's wife. 
 She and her husband both met her at the door, and Evans 
 exclaimed " Beauty," looking at the boy. "But," said he, 
 " he is like the rest," meaning his sister's children. 
 
 After Mrs. Smith's relations came out, Smith was very 
 kind to them, and there was no interruption of peace on his 
 part because her relations had made them a visit, because 
 
148 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVE^T, 
 
 Mrs. Smith's mother was one of those excellent women 
 whom it seemed everybody loved. And if she ever had aii 
 enemy, we never knew it. And her sister was a most beau- 
 tiful, lovely young lady, one much admired, and had more 
 attention from the gentlemen, where she had been brought 
 up, than any other girl whose father was not rich. Evans 
 was particularly kind to this young lady, his cousin. She 
 resembled Mrs. Smith, though thought by some to be a much 
 greater beauty. We have lights and shades in our picture 
 of Smith's character towards his wife, and we fear more 
 shades than lights. Would God we could reverse it. We 
 will mention one now, which the reader may call what he 
 pleases, but we think it a shade, as it reflects no light on 
 him at all, only making him look like <a fool, or madman, 
 or anything you please besides a gentleman, leaving the kind- 
 ness and Christian part out altogether. 
 
 One holy Sabbath day, after the birth of Mrs. Smith's 
 little boy, she wished to attend church, three miles distant, 
 in their county town. Smith, as usual, could not be pre- 
 vailed on to go, not even with his young wife and infant 
 son. So she and the other children, and the boy, with some 
 of the servants, went. Just as church services were over, a 
 dreadful windy storm and rain came up, and she, fearing 
 with her little charge to get wet, or perhaps some tree might 
 fall on them on their way home, as the trees were tossed and 
 lashed together by the terrific wind — thought best to stop 
 with some friend in town till the rain and wind had ceased, 
 lest they might be destroyed by some falling tree or other 
 danger. As soon as the weather would admit of travelling 
 in safety, she set out for home, feeling quite ill at ease about 
 some expected freak from him. Her nurse — who rode horse- 
 back, being a strong colored woman, and could consequently 
 ride much fleeter than she, a feeble woman, could drive the 
 carriage through the rain, wind, and storm with the other 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 149 
 
 two little children — had taken the babe, and rode on as fast 
 as possible with him, for fear of getting wet herself and the 
 babe, for it was raining even then when they left the church. 
 And even when she set off for home it was still raining ; and 
 pushing ahead as fast as she, with her feeble strength, could 
 drive, she was uneasy about her babe, and stopped at Evans's 
 gate to ask if the nurse had passed with it. Evans came 
 running out, and saying, " O Cousin Grace, Ruth has a 
 little boy, too ! " 
 
 Mrs. Smith seemed doomed to have no joy to last long 
 without alloy of dark passions to annoy her soul almost to 
 death and the grave. But such was her fate. The nurse, 
 true to her charge, had reached home safely, and had the 
 sweet little boy in safe keeping. But when Mrs. Smith 
 drove up into the yard to the door to avoid the mud, it 
 still raining. Smith, instead of being, like a Christian 
 and gentleman should have been, glad that his wife and 
 little children had returned safely and unhurt, sat like an 
 old sulky mule or ox in the piazza on the opposite side of 
 the house ; and instead of going to meet them, as he ought 
 to have done, did not even seem to see his wife and little 
 ones, nor move any more than the sills of the house in 
 wliicli he sat. What do we suppose must have been the 
 feelings of a young wife and mother under such delectable 
 circumstances ? — to be scowled upon at every whipstitch, just 
 for nothing but going to church, sometimes once in three 
 months, and in this case not that often — it having been 
 five or six months, or perhaps longer, October before, we 
 think, being the last, and this was now the month of May 
 or June. A matter of eight months. What do you think 
 of that, some of ye old hard-hearted Methodists who, think 
 a woman must submit to everything, whether in the Lord 
 or in the ^qy\\ ? We know very well what a good Methodist' 
 and Christian would say. He would say there was no 
 13 * 
 
150 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 Methodism or Christianity in all this. Well, old hard- 
 hearted fogy, will you not give it up yet ? Is the woman yet 
 in fault ? Well, we only wish your good brother Smith, whom 
 Mrs. Smith was told was " a Methodist and a Christian," 
 we only wish he had exhibited a little, just a little bit of 
 such noble Christianity just a little while before the fatal 
 knot was tied that made them man and wife. If he had, 
 we vow by all the powers above, he would have had to wait 
 longer, and look lower than to Grace Claiborne; for of all 
 things on earth, this woman, Mrs. Smith, hated double-deal- 
 ing. And, quoting the old grandsire's words, "This was one 
 old dog that neither she nor all the beautiful women on all 
 the earth, and angels from heaven, could have learned new 
 tricks." He got into his almighty sulks long before she 
 ever saw him, and these were about to grow to him, or he 
 to them. His own brother once called him a mule in Mrs. 
 Smith's hearing. The appellation suited well. Nor would 
 he budge one peg out of his mulish ways — his pouts and 
 his sulks — to save all the beautiful women and children in 
 the world. What do you think of it, young ladies ? Do 
 you think you would be happy with such a husband, young 
 or old? 
 
 Well, now, we have a side of the picture to show you, 
 which you may call a light, if you like, for the remainder 
 of the time passed off tolerably pleasantly this summer. 
 After Mrs. Smith's relations came out, he would frequently 
 go with her to church in the country, and into town also. 
 And sometimes, strange to tell, would do a little visiting 
 with her, for so numerous were her cares, and so great her 
 charge, that it was seldom that this young woman, who had 
 the weight of more than two older women than herself 
 ought to have had on her young shoulders, ever thought she 
 had any time for visiting, always immersed in household 
 cares for him and his children. And although doing and 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 151 
 
 having done everything as perfectly as possible, she could 
 have no permanent peace. 
 
 One day, as she and Smith were riding to church in the 
 country, they were met by a carriage with several ladies. 
 One of them, who was one of the first in the county, ex- 
 claimed, "I met the prettiest lady to-day I ever saw I" This 
 she said to Smith's son-in-law. And when he told it to Mrs. 
 Smith, she replied, "She is much blinded." And if it had 
 been so, what cared she for beauty now, since it was all lost 
 on a dotard of a jealous husband. " Beauty of personal 
 appearance" said she, "is not my delight only. It is beauty 
 of soul that I admire ; if I dare do it, would long for it. 
 But now I shall never see it, I fear. ' And as a jewel in a 
 swine's snout, so is a beautiful woman without discretion.' 
 ' Beauty is vain, and favor is deceitful ; but a vroman that 
 feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.' This is the beauty 
 that is desirable, this is the gem that outshines all other 
 gems — ' the fear of the Lord.' It is the beginning of wis- 
 dom. It is the gem I hope will be in my crown when all 
 others are dim." 
 
 Smith, although a man possessed of some good qualities, 
 good natural abilities, and at times some seeming amiability, 
 was, from some influence or other, perhaps from long 
 habits indulged in, and living as he should not have done, 
 subject, besides his jealousies and mulish disposition, 
 to a wavering of purpose, that marred very much the sta- 
 bility of his character. He was in many things unstable 
 as water, and was more apt to be firmer, or more stubborn, 
 in a wrong cause than a right one ; which perhaps was the 
 result of the lack of the fear of God before his eyes, an utter 
 want of that moral stamina " which is sure it is right, and 
 then goes ahead," and a lack of a liberal education — his 
 opportunities to acquire knowledge having been limited. 
 With all this, too, was added a kind of egotism common to 
 
152 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 vain minds, which no one but his wife or some of his family- 
 would ever have thought entered his head. He would fre- 
 quently be asking his wife what her mother and sister 
 thought of her situation. "I do not know/' she replied. 
 "I do not suppose they think it very flattering." And 
 within her own soul said, " If they do, I do not. What are 
 a few negroes, a very common house and land, and many 
 children, a jealous, mulish husband, in comparison with a ^ 
 life of happiness to a poor soul, a broken-hearted woman 
 crowded every day of the world with something or another 
 to corrode and root out all peace ? " This was said within 
 her secret soul. For with all her hopefulness, and a dis- 
 position always to make the best of everything, yet the truth, 
 the awful truth, would force itself on her quick mind, and 
 she could not help seeing things in their proper light — 
 their true colors. No girl who had been as popular as she 
 was before her marriage, with bright hopes and " brilliant 
 talents," as a friend called hers, but would have regretted, 
 long before she did, this unfortunate " situation," which had 
 been fraught with not only misery and sorrow, but with 
 untold secret woes that must be borne forever alone by her- 
 self. Situation, indeed ! The man must have been a fool, 
 or vanity itself personified ; or perhaps this was the pride of 
 the almighty negro. The most perfect hoosier who pos- 
 sessed a score of these — then indispensables — thought that 
 the most refined, most cultivated young lady, whose sensi- • 
 bilities were as high as heaven, ought to think it infinite 
 condescension for him to marry her; for which exalted 
 favor she should worship at his feet, kiss the ground he 
 would walk upon, crawl as a menial in servitude to him, 
 and all about him, no matter how she was treated. Situa- 
 tion! alas! one in which she was not likely to get much 
 sympathy — no matter how amiable — it could be perceived. 
 She was secretive of trouble; besides, the deception of the 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 153 
 
 human heart is fearful in its consequences. She might, in 
 great sorrow, tell some of her troubles, and perhaps hear 
 them again, sadly misrepresented and greatly distorted, as 
 has been done in thousands of instances. She would bear 
 them all before God, in sacred and subdued silence ; and 
 perhaps some day, He might vindicate her righteous cause, 
 as Me has done in his mercy, and will do through eternity. 
 
 Eeader, dear lady, whether you are a young or old mar- 
 ried lady, this is the best course. Heartlessness, frivolity, 
 and vanity are very common traits of character among both 
 men and women. And where you would find one pure- 
 hearted, sympathizing friend of either sex, you will, in all 
 probability, find five hundred of an opposite mind and dis- 
 position. " It is her fault," exclaims one of your quandam 
 confidants. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 TROUBLES MULTIPLY. 
 
 HOW would you like that, dear lady ? Would it help 
 you any ? Or would it not be a fresh dart, whose poi- 
 soned point would smell very much of treachery ? and would 
 • the fresh poisoned stab mend and heal your other wounds ? 
 Beware ! And if you have a man who is not a husband in 
 the full sense of the word, and to whom you cannot tell the 
 sorrows of your heart, (which you cannot do, if he is the 
 cause of them,) tell them to none on this earth, but call 
 on the Lord day and night, who has promised to hear "thee 
 in a day of trouble." " Hum ! " says one, " He seems a long 
 time about it, in the case of your heroine." " The Lord is 
 not slack concerning promises, as some men count slack- 
 
154 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 ness." There will be a reckoning of these matters some day, 
 " for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it." 
 
 But Smith had vanity enough to think, nay, even hint 
 at times, that because he had a few negroes and some chil- 
 dren, his wife ought to think herself in a king's palace ; 
 which, indeed, she would have done, if he had permitted her 
 in the proper way. And here was the trouble from out- 
 siders, with such a glare of wealth, or even the semblance of 
 it. Such was the estimate in those days set upon the posses- 
 sion of negroes, that any one who married where there were 
 twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty (oh, heavens !) of these crea- 
 tures, was thought to have gone into an earthly paradise. 
 Great mistake ! They never give happiness ; but when well- 
 managed, a good master and mistress, and good servants, are 
 an invaluable acquisition, in the way of comfort, on both sides. 
 But then one might have this comfort, as Mrs. Smith did in 
 many instances, from these poor, creatures, who were not all 
 disaffected and ungrateful, for she was very good to them. 
 But there was one drawback in even this — Smith's chil- 
 dren would rather have seen their father's wife in Gehenna, 1 
 than for the negroes to mind her ; hence, they played wild 
 work with some of the poor, ignorant, unlettered, and unin- 
 formed young members of the dark tribes, and caused much 
 trouble from this quarter. 
 
 But Mrs. Smith was not a fool, and hence could not see 
 the tinsel of a small, or even a great, portion of wealth in 
 the light of fools. She longed, she sighed, to be happy. 
 And this great boon could not he based upon a crumbling 
 and sandy foundation. To one of her long-seeing into the 
 distant future, — having the fortune, or misfortune, of talcing 
 the whole situation in from beginning to end, — a fear ever 
 arose that, notwithstanding all her prudence and caution, 
 the chances were ten thousand to one that she might be 
 crushed beneath the ruins of this crumbling, tottering build- 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 155 
 
 ingi All her own silence might avail nothing, wlien there 
 might be so many blazoned mouths, opened wide as a can- 
 non's mouth, in another direction, should he ever belch 
 forth his furies and jealousies before his negroes and chil- 
 dren, to which she saw he was fast approaching ; for he was 
 not in possession of prudence or self-command enough to 
 prevent himself from belching out in a mad fit anything 
 that might arise in his mind. And hence Ms oft-repeated 
 sayings, with regard to the children, that a bad beginning 
 on their part would have a good ending, inspired no faith, no 
 hope, no confidence in Mrs. Smith's mind ; for how could tJiey 
 go higher than the founiain ? And being so much better and 
 longer acquainted with their father than his wife had been, 
 did they not often see the working of his mind, and under- 
 stand it ? Though he would storm and rail at them before 
 his wife, if they saw his double hand, what effect would such 
 a course have on them, but tenfold more hate than they 
 would have had without these influences and surmises of 
 their father's secret mind. 
 
 " I don't think Pa will ever get married again," said one 
 of the loveliest of Mrs. Smith's enemies, — these misguided 
 children. The second daughter said it in her presence. How 
 would you have felt, nice, sensitive, high-minded, proud 
 young lady, under the effects of such a complimentary 
 speech made in your presence by one who was, although 
 your Edomite cousin, also your inferior in everything in 
 this world. All but "her Pa had property." I repeat, 
 how would you have felt ? "Would you have spoken in 
 reply to this side attack on you, or would you have main- 
 tained your silence and held your peace, as Mrs. Smith did, 
 feeling the utmost contempt and disgust for her, and won- 
 dering where she got her interesting information? If she 
 had not been purity and want of suspicion personified, she 
 might have wondered if he, the mighty father and husband, 
 
156 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 had had a holy confab with this very amiable daughter ; for 
 it was uttered the very same winter after Mrs. Smith had 
 influenced him to send this daughter abroad to school, but 
 not to pay the five hundred dollars' extra expense, as he had 
 to' pay, through her extravagant conduct while at school. 
 
 Mrs. Smith very complacently thought within her soul, 
 she hoped he never would get married again ; for, in order 
 to have an opportunity to do so, she must die, and that she 
 did not wish to do, if it were the Lord's will otherwise. She 
 did not wish to please her enemies so well. 
 
 One day, all the younger members of the white family 
 had gone on a visit in the neighborhood. Mrs. Smith's 
 mother had thought of going with the young people, but had 
 declined. Some time prior to this, when Mrs. Smith was at 
 church, she had subscribed and paid for the " Charleston 
 Christian Advocate and Journal," when it was first pub- 
 lished as a Southern paper. On this day, the young people 
 being absent. Smith's son-in-law went to town, and, as Mrs. 
 Smith's paper had arrived, he brought it home to her ; 
 stopped at the gate, and called Mrs. Smith to take the first 
 number of the paper, for he was very much in favor of 
 the enterprise, and had subscribed for it himself. Mrs. Smith 
 took the paper and laid it down, and went about her house- 
 hold affairs ; afterwards she thought of it, and handed it to 
 her husband to read, thinking perhaps he would like it. We 
 do not think she had mentioned the circumstance of send- 
 ing for the paper. But she rarely ever acted in even the 
 smallest matter without consulting him, mentioning what- 
 ever she did to him. But he not being present when she 
 subscribed, was perhaps the reason he knew not of it. For 
 if she did not tell him before, she was sure to do it after- 
 wards. But this matter had not been mentioned to him. 
 This was perhaps the cause of what followed. 
 
 They were together, and she spoke again of making some 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWIKE. 
 
 157 
 
 preserves, it being fruit time, when fruits of various kinds 
 were in good order for preserving. He had rather demurred 
 again on the subject of preserve-making. Mrs. Smith re- 
 plied something like she thought she was to do as she 
 pleased about the matter. And this, we suppose, was on his 
 mind, festering and fermenting, and then came the well- 
 timed excuse. As soon as he saw the paper, he flew into a 
 most violent passion, railed out at his wife, and poured forth 
 such a flood of abuse — not regarding, now, the presence of 
 Mrs. Smith's mother or the negroes. Would not read the 
 paper ; but boiling bigger and bigger, hotter and hotter, took 
 it up deliberately and cast it into the fire and consumed it ! 
 Bravo ! Mr. Smith ! Beautiful Methodist ! That was a 
 Methodist paper ! What did you burn it for ? It had a 
 heap of good reading in it. We declare you ought to be 
 dealt with for such sacrilege! What's the matter with 
 you ? Are you demented ? Is this the delightful situation 
 of which you think your wife ought to be so proud ? Ha ! 
 ha! ha! that paper cost only two dollais, and it is paid for, 
 and we would not cut such swells and shines, and make 
 such a baboon show of our humble self, for much more than 
 two dollars. Nay, more ; we think we would be under the 
 necessity of having large sums like Jenny Lind, the Chap- 
 man sisters, or some other popular actor or actress who get 
 well paid, before we could cut such antics as you do for so 
 small a sum. And what, in the name of all that is good, 
 could you have against your wife getting the paper ? Did 
 you not tell her to do as she pleased ? Did she not also 
 carry more than two dollars with her, in silver, which she 
 paid out for the making of the first bonnets she had made 
 for your daughters — second and third daughters ? That 
 money would have paid for the paper, and no boot asked 
 of you. Is this the beautiful friend supporting her, when, 
 before your marriage, she spake of her school ? Sir, did 
 14 
 
Id8 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 you think you married a fool — a menial slave instead of a 
 lady f Did you talk and act this way when courting her ? 
 Would to heaven you had shown a few of these fiery sparks ! 
 If you had, she would have fled from you as from the face 
 of a serpent ; nor would she ever have stopped till she had 
 reached the end of the world, if that had been necessary to 
 get out of your beautiful presence, as you appeared on this 
 occasion. Why, your shout was " the shout of a king in a 
 camp," 
 
 You are waging a great warfare and fighting a great 
 battle. Victory \ victory ! surely will be all your own. 
 And what conquest did you make, Mr. Smith ? Why, we 
 suppose you conquered one 'poor little iiewspaper ! For we 
 vow you did not conquer your wife. This is what we here 
 in the Southern States call overrunning — not conquering, 
 of which we have had in these latter days awful examples. 
 " The weapons of your warfare are carnal," therefore could 
 never be used or wielded successfully against spirit and mind. 
 Your battering-rams could never beat down her fortifica- 
 tions, for they were built of Ood. The high tower of his 
 word of eternal truth, into which she continually resorted, 
 ^nd found a sure habitation, so that none of your artillery 
 of Gehenna (for it was not of heaven) damaged her soul. 
 It only elevated her Jar above, and caused her to see more 
 clearly to what depths of degradation you were fallen into 
 despotism. For one minute telling her "to do as she 
 pleased," and the next scattering fire-brands, hailstones, and 
 tornadoes of words about so trivial a matter as only two 
 dollars for a religious newspaper; it paid for, too! Who 
 would ever know how to take you? We '11 tell you how you 
 would have been taken — to be one of the greatest madmen 
 the world ever saw ; and so you would have been thought, 
 if your public ways had been like your private character, 
 A man's private character is his real one, whether the world 
 knows it or not. 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 159 
 
 Mrs. Smitli said nothing to him eitlier good or bad, but 
 her poor mother was terrified. She, who through all her 
 married lifetime had suifered under a drunken husband, had 
 flattered herself that her darling daughter was exempt from 
 such tyrannv. This was equal to the drunken father, with- 
 out the excuse of drunkenness. But was he not drunk with 
 passion? And is there much difference between the two ? 
 We, for our part, would prefer the drunkard. Then we # 
 could have some token when the fits were coming on him, 
 when the mighty spirit ^'spirits) were about, and perchance 
 could get out of his way before he grew frantic with rage. 
 But the poor mother had thought that Grace did everything 
 pretty much as she pleased. She said to her one day, 
 before this, that if she had such a husband, she would think 
 herself very happy. But now behold her mistake I She 
 was like the old lady of the last winter — vastly deceived I 
 For ]Mi'S. Smith had never even told her mother any of 
 Smith's doings but the good, and did not contradict -the 
 idea that he was a good hu-shancLv^hiQli he seemed to be at 
 times by fits and starts. But so taciturn had Mrs. Smith 
 been about her husband's ill-treatment of her, that one day, 
 during her visit to her mother, before she came home with 
 her. she said to her daughter that her fither had talked 
 with a fortune-teller about the fortunes of his married 
 daughters, and said she to him, "Your eldest daughter is 
 not happy, because her husband is jealous." But said the 
 mother to Mrs Smith, " I did not believe it : I knew it was 
 false." Mrs. Smith never felt more badly in her life, to 
 think that an old fortune-teller could find out her treasures 
 of sorrow at the distance of more than a hundred miles, 
 when she had never seen her, nor heard of her before. >hQ 
 evaded a direct reply to her mother, walked out into the 
 garden, and told her nothing at all. But now the poor 
 lady's eyes were opened. And she said to her daughter, 
 
160 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 "Did Mr. Smith ever talk that way to you before?" To 
 which question she made no reply ; but one of the servant 
 girls said, " Yes, old mistress ; he is always doing and say- 
 ing something he has no business." This was the expressed 
 opinion of one of his servants. " W ell," said the distressed 
 woman and mother, " I wish I had gone abroad to-day with 
 the young folks, for I would not have had heard it, if I 
 could have helped it, for twenty dollars, so well did I think 
 of him." 
 
 Not long after this Smith was in a pet again about the 
 sugar not lasting longer, saying the negroes must have 
 stolen it, and that there was more in the barrel than there 
 really had been. Mrs. Smith always kept the bills of every 
 article of food purchased for the family, and was as careful 
 as it was possible to be in order to let the children have 
 what they wanted, and the servants, when they came and 
 asked for a little, and not to send them away empty. She 
 did not say much to him ; she rarely ever did, knowing it 
 was no use arguing with an angry man any more than a 
 drunken one. And to her high sense and lofty notions of how 
 the heads of a family ought to demean themselves before their 
 family, such a course she thought disgraceful and degrading 
 in their sight. She could bear his tirade no longer, but 
 broke olF into the garden, sat down in a corner moped up, 
 thinking. Her young and beautiful sister came into the 
 garden, and said : 
 
 " What 's the matter with you now, Grace ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing," she replied. 
 
 " But," said the sister, " I know there is." 
 
 She had not heard Smith talking to her in the house. 
 
 On one occasion. Smith had sent to market to get some 
 books for his wife at her request, for they had few in the 
 house, except those carried there by her. And when the 
 books came, Mrs. Smith, eager to look at the title-page of the 
 
AND HUSKS OF STTINE. 161 
 
 first volume, said, " Give me the first volume to look at, Mr. 
 Smitli, for I never feel the same interest in a work as I do 
 when I can see the beginning." This made him so mad, 
 that he threw the b>)ok down, and would not look at it any- 
 more. We suppose he wished to look at it himself But 
 we declare that, for the life within us, we can scarcely refrain 
 from laughing sometimes outright at the details of such 
 conduct for a man over forty years of age. So much like 
 a poor, foolish, spoiled, jDettish child. It is a pity he had not 
 had a child to deal with instead of a woman. 
 
 He told his present wife that one Saturday evening, during 
 the earlier days of his foimer marriage, he and his wife set out 
 to see her father. It being rather an unfavorable evening, 
 drizzling rain, and she having put on a very fine new shawl 
 he had bought for her, he simply asked her, "If she was 
 going to wear it in the rain ? " At which she became vexed, 
 and threw it off" her shoulders down on the ground in the 
 rain, and that he, having a small switch in his hand, 
 whipped her with it, and made her take it up and put it 
 on again. " But," said he, " she wished to wear it because 
 her parents had bought no such shawls for her during her 
 girlhood." 
 
 The way Mrs. Smith came to hear of it was this. The 
 second daughter, who said, " She reckoned Pa would 
 not marry again," said to Mrs. Smith's sister, one day, 
 after taking cognizance of some of his unguarded speeches 
 about the provisions, " That she feared her Pa was going 
 to be an unkind husband again. That Aunt such an one," 
 naming one of the negroes, "said her Pa had whipped 
 her Ma ; and she knew he was not so kind to her mother as 
 he ought to have been — that he made her lie out all night, 
 on one occasion, with one of the old family servants." Xow 
 when Mrs. Smith questioned Smith about the whipping 
 affair, this waa his version of it. And about the staying 
 14* L 
 
162 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 out all night is rather too ridiculous to write for the public 
 eye. It is very much like a couple of children in the shawl 
 case, and unpardonable in him to strike her. 
 
 But to return to the books. One night, shortly after, she 
 was reading, and he lying down before the fire. He wished 
 her to leave off reading and retire to bed. Although a 
 constant reader before her marriage, she had done but 
 little of it since for more than a year. She had employed 
 her time .in getting the house in order, and in trying to 
 keep it so, and had not even read her Bible half as much as 
 she wished, nor half so much as she had been used to do. 
 This time she Avas amused at his ordering her to stop read- 
 ing and go to bed, and wondered at his total want of reading 
 and searching for food for his mind. And if she had not 
 had her mind well stored before marriage, she would have 
 been half starved for intellectual food by this time. She 
 said something to him on this occasion, in reference to read- 
 ing, rather funny and cutting, which she could do when 
 pressed too much. If she spoke at all, it was sure to have 
 a point when forced, for with all her seriousness there was 
 at times a vein of innocent mischief and striking wit that 
 was sure to cut an adversary, unless he was of a generous 
 nature, to give and take, and consider if he had not pro- 
 voked it. And then Smith jumped up from his pallet in 
 hasty pettishness, and looked at a cowhide which hung on 
 some nails on the wall. This caused her to laugh in her 
 sleeve, though not a word nor a look did she give him. 
 And not another word did he say. But this was the second 
 time " the whip " had been hinted at and looked at. And in 
 her inmost soul she said, " Well, my good fellow, it is a little 
 funny to see you look at cowhides and talk of whips ; but woe 
 to you the day or night you use one on me ! I never will do 
 anything to deserve this from you, and you shall never use 
 one on me with impunity." Her patience, at times being 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 163 
 
 put to the severest tests, need not be expected to last forever 
 under all circumstances. At the time of the paper burning, — 
 that glorious triumph ! — he went off into another room, and 
 pretended to be writing his will. And T^hen she v/ent to 
 him to see what he was doing, he sa,id, " You and I are 
 no more one! I will give you four of the best negro fel- 
 lows I have." But she, knowing liis fickleness and freaks, 
 made no reply to these' gracious propositions, but took 
 hold of him and led him to the dinner-table. Then he ate 
 his dinner, and the matter rested bet ween them about the 
 paper; and we do not know that it ever was alluded to 
 again by them. We never knew what was said within 
 among the servants. 
 
 One night during these times she ivas compelled to get up 
 and go out into the night air, which she did very reluc- 
 tantly, on account of her delicate health — it being late in 
 autumn — but she did it to avoid some things very un- 
 pleasant from some other sources of trouble from this very 
 W'icked and vulgar family. And when she went in Smith 
 accused her of going to meet Evans ! O God, this was a 
 trial, and one that it seemed would never end ! She thought 
 this was capping the climax of misery. What to say, she 
 knew not, for it seemed as if he had already exhausted the 
 vocabulary of hell to wreck on her defenceless head ! And 
 it happened this time that this matter got out among some 
 of the negroes by their hearing it ; for we verily believe 
 that some of them used to eavesdrop the house, to hear 
 what he would say of nights, because they could never get 
 anything from the mistress, as it was said they did from 
 their former mistress ; the poorest thing a persecuted wife 
 could ever do — to tell her servants what the master did to 
 her. No wonder they were under no subordination at all, 
 but considered themselves her equal, and obeyed when it 
 pleased them. 
 
 Mrs. Smith's sister heard it, and told Evans's wife of itj 
 
164 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 and he went to his father about it, and said, " Pa, what do 
 you think? Smith is jealous of his wife and me." But 
 the old gentleman, having known Smith for twenty years, 
 while his daughter's husband, told him to take no notice of 
 it ; but for which there might have been some altercation, 
 if nothing more, among the parties, to prevent which Mrs. 
 Smith had all this time endured this torture. Nor did it 
 get out now by her means. And we doubt, if Evans had 
 mentioned it to Smith, whether he would have owned it, if 
 there had been any way to get round it, so much did he 
 do these things in a corner, and so sly was he about it. No 
 one must hear it but his victim. But it was one of Evans's 
 servants who heard this time. Evans's mother, in her 
 laconic style, exclaimed, " I reckon he is no more jealous 
 of this wife than the other," meaning her daughter, his 
 first wife, whom Smith said used to tell him of their own 
 negroes. Whether with or without cause, heaven only 
 knows, but his present wife was too elevated in her senti- 
 ments to tantalize him with anything of the kind, even if 
 she had not been too ignorant and innocent herself, and 
 still ignorant of his conduct — too much so, at least, to sus- 
 pect him. But why should she not have thought ? Because 
 she knew not then that one who was almost forever suspect- 
 ing some one else, and that a pure wife, too, must be guilty 
 himself. 
 
 Mrs. Smith was sorry that the matter had been told. 
 Under all these painful trials she had hoped, by keeping all 
 within her own breast, she might be as the wise woman in 
 the book of Proverbs, which says, " Every wise woman 
 buildeth up her house ; but the foolish one pulleth it down 
 with her hands." Whether this passage of Holy Writ had 
 any application to her case or not, it was often applied t'o 
 her mind during these mournful days. 
 
 Smith was very angry because this matter had been told. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SV^INE. 
 
 165 
 
 He threatened to whip one of Evans's negroes for coming 
 on liis premises, and looked vengeance at his wife's sister, 
 so much so that she went from his house to stay with 
 Evans's wife, who was very fond of her. Smith was foolish 
 enough, after all, to say, " Why did not Evans come and 
 talk with him ? He had no grounds for such thoughts, and 
 he would have believed him." A fine story, indeed; as 
 though a man must go after his fierce accuser, of even the 
 worst crimes, and tell him it was false. 
 
 But we sometimes think in retrospect, reflecting on 
 these disagreeable w^hims of passion from our hero, that it 
 was the imbecility of his mind, for want of being supported 
 by the grace of God and a correct knowledge and sound 
 reason, especially on some subjects. If some one had spoken 
 to him in whom he could have had confidence, and who would 
 not have pandered to his vices or fed the flame, and pitied 
 him, and been very sorry for him, as if he was the victim, in- 
 stead of the aggressor in these awful jealousies, which he him- 
 self did not believe in a sane state of mind, perhaps he might 
 have been persuaded to desist. But it is a mere perhaps, 
 as there were few in whom he had confidence, if we are to 
 judge from his private words to his wife. Hence the dan- 
 ger, the inveteracy of his disease or passions ; as it is a fixed 
 and undeniable fact, drawn from long experience and ob- 
 servation, that when an individual, male or female, has 
 confidence in no one, it is a true mark of a dark spot about 
 his own heart. This is an unchangeable axiom. Can the 
 "Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots?" 
 And none but God can change the heart ; and will He, the 
 Almighty Omnipotence himself, change a man's heart, when 
 he is ever running away from Him, and resisting and doing 
 despite to His spirit of grace ? But Smith had no advice 
 on the subject in those days, nothing but his own dark mind 
 to commune with ; and thus he went on persecuting one of 
 
166 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEK, 
 
 God's fairest creatures without cause," and without provoca- 
 tion, almost to death. Indeed, v/hen we take a review of 
 this matter, it is ten thousand wonders that she ever did live 
 under these peculiar circumstances. But the sustaining 
 power with her was the " peace of God that passeth under- 
 standing." She could look upwards to heaven, and say, 
 with " unpresumptuous smile," " I am at peace with God." 
 
 As a legitimate natural result, she bore about a death of 
 social and conjugal enjoyment that none knew but God. 
 To be forever bearing in one's mind a dreadful mystery, is 
 a death or dearth of the worst kind, to a sensitive, loving 
 spirit, whose tendrils of soul had always longed for some- 
 thing good, great, and noble upon which to recline — to 
 cling to. And this mystery, to her so mystifying, she would 
 have been ashamed to have had it mentioned in any crowd 
 in the world, to any person. Query. Would he not have 
 denied it ? We believe he would at that period of time. 
 
 Well, hauling or calling up these ghosts of the past, and 
 of the deep of the heart, passed and forgotten by many, 
 more than thirty years ago, is not so pleasant as one might 
 suppose, either in hot summer days or in cold winter days. 
 It is a long and almost endless task, these memories of 
 Smith's conduct towards his helpless wife. 
 
 If Mrs. Smith could have had in those days what ladies 
 and gentlemen both, we believe, call spunk enough to have 
 aroused herself, and had known her power to assert her 
 rights, and would have talked warlike to this pesty belliger- 
 ent party, and had been bold-spirited enough to have told 
 him fearlessly that she would bear his billingsgate no longer, 
 that he must prove these things, or else she would leave his 
 bed and board forever, it might have had a good effect — • 
 that of stopping his mouth forever! But she never even 
 alluded to such a thing. Of which he must have had some 
 sapient or hidden fear from the beginning; for one day, 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 167 
 
 wlien she was sufFericv from headaclie and want of quiet, 
 long before the trij) to the fatal camp-meeting, she simply 
 said, "Oh, I can't stand the noise and confusion." He re- 
 plied, almost whining, " My dear, I can't help it, if you leave 
 me." Pf which Mrs. Smith had no more thought than of 
 flying without wings. She only wished that there could be 
 less noise and disturbance from the household, which, in- 
 .deed, was a rational wish on her part. And any man who 
 was master of his own house, could have commanded this ; 
 and it would have been satisfactory to her — all that she 
 wished. One of the old servants told Mrs. Smith that when 
 she was out at Smith's in the summer before their marriage, 
 about the school they had in question, that Smith took one 
 of the boys, the third son, out behind the carriage-house, 
 and whipped him for making too much noise in the house. 
 A boy then ten or eleven years old, which, if Mrs. Smith 
 had known, she would have objected to. This whipping 
 children for another is sure to make them hate that person. 
 A man who governs by fits and starts is sure to get tired. 
 And whipping children for a second wife is sure to make 
 their hate, where it already exists, as big as a mountain, 
 boil over, and charge all their whipping from their " Pa " 
 on her, as if their father never corrected them before. That 
 is all forgotten now. There is only one way to prevent this 
 difficulty, that is, to have one's household well trained, so 
 that a word or a look from the father or mother is enough 
 to quiet the turbulence and boisterous doings of the young 
 people and children. And any set of children thus brought 
 up, and tutored without some awful ulterior influence upon 
 them, or for want of confidence in the father, will behave for 
 his sake, be dutiful and respectful, and give as little trouble 
 about the house as possible. 
 
 One of Mrs. Smith's brothers-in-law moved out, and lived 
 near Smith. One evening, Smith pressed this gentleman 
 
168 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 and his wife to come and spend the night with them. They 
 came ; and Mrs. Smith, not being well, was lying on a little 
 bed near the fireplace. Smith began, as they all thought at 
 first, rather jocularly to tantalize his wife about this, that, 
 and everything but his jealousy, before her brother-in-law 
 and sister. He continued, however, to accuse her wrong- 
 fully, until her patience was at last worn out, and she told 
 him right down, flatly, that such assertions were false. 
 
 " My God," said the brother-in-law, on retiring, " if I had 
 known this, I would not have been here to-night." 
 
 They were very much hurt to think Smith had invited 
 them there just to quarrel with his wife before them, of 
 whom they thought so affectionately — she being to them a 
 good sister. 
 
 Next morning, Smith was like a man who had indulged 
 in a bacchanalian row the night before. He affected, or 
 really did feel very badly ; Avas continually walking out 
 and about the premises, could not sit still, and was con- 
 stantly asking her to walk with him, which she, good-na- 
 turedly or foolishly, did. He said he could not live unless she 
 was near him, and yet every now and then tantalizing her 
 after his own peculiar way, and then saying he was a fool, to 
 which sentiment we give our cordial assent. For who but a 
 fool would act in this way to destroy his own happiness. If it 
 had been for no other purpose, he would have withheld his 
 unjust, untruthful, and angry words, in which he often con- 
 tradicted himself. We wonder if a little bold front on her 
 part would not have been a bar to further proceedings in 
 this direction. Cowards are often, or nearly always, deterred 
 by the hrave, unless they can take sneaking or underhand 
 advantage. Smith knew very well that his wife would not 
 have lain there during the day, if able to rise, and let him 
 tongue-lash her after that sort, with her sister and brother- 
 in-law for his only auditors. " Fool ! fool ! " he vrould say, 
 
AND 
 
 HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 169 
 
 wlien the spell? went off. The devil seemed to have the 
 ascendancy over him. An evil spirit troubled him like 
 Saul, king of Israel, and, to continue the simile, we suppose 
 it was because he had departed from God. For he must 
 certainly have been a fool tvrice told, to act in this way, 
 when he knew and acknowledged it was false, and also made 
 him miserable. But he was like the poor inebriate. He 
 had gotten into the hahit, and it seemed he could not help it, 
 because he would not. He did not have, or would not exer- 
 cise, moral courage sufficient to govern himself in this 
 matter. His passions had more the appearance of delirium 
 tremens or partial insanity. In fact, we believe no man 
 who had common sense, and was compos mentis, would have 
 acted as he did. 
 
 Christmas came. A new year rolled round. Smith talked 
 of moving to another State, as he had often done before ; 
 and went out into a wild frontier part of the State and 
 bought land. When he returned, he spoke of taking only 
 a few servants with him out there to make a crop of corn 
 for the next year. Mrs. Smith concluded she would, as the 
 family was large, take the two youngest children, with her 
 own little boy, and go out with him, also her youngest sister, 
 which she did — leaving her sister, brother-in-law, and 
 mother to overlook the balance of the family left behind. 
 She went out into that wild country, which would have been 
 an asylum to her afflicted heart could she have been left 
 alone long enough to have gathered some happiness around 
 her that might last for awhile. Alas ! again. "We know 
 not at all times what is best for us. She could have been 
 happy enough if all the combustible materials that destroy 
 happiness had been left behind. But as it was, it was the 
 worst day's work she ever did for herself, to leave that com- 
 paratively improved settlement, where she was known and 
 respected, and move out among people who had been as 
 15 
 
170 
 
 BREAD OF HEAYENj 
 
 diametrically raised as one pole is from another — in cul- 
 ture and education, and all the more refined arts of civilized 
 life. There were a great many of them good people ; but as 
 she had been so differently reared, before they had an oppor- 
 tunity to find out her merits^ and understand her and love 
 her, as they would most assuredly have done, the spoilers 
 came. And because she was not equal to the work of going 
 about and tattling about home affairs, her high notions of 
 good breeding being opposed to this plan, her antagonists, 
 the children, and some of the negroes, found many willing 
 allies in this evil work — some very willing ears to hear every 
 ridiculous fabrication that prejudice, envy, and evil hearts 
 could invent, and prejudiced and envious hearts could will- 
 ingly hear. Hence she suffered vastly from this source in 
 after days. Nor was it long before they began ; how, will 
 be related as we proceed. 
 
 Now we will confine ourself to the beginning. Just as 
 they were going to leave for the new State, Smith made a 
 proposition to all his grown-up children to leave them all 
 the plantation and two grown-up negroes apiece, good 
 working hands, if they wished to remain, which was a fair 
 and liberal offer on his part. And certainly they were 
 wrong this time ; for if his wife had been the woman they 
 wished to represent her, here would have been a fine 02)por- 
 tunity to get shut of her forever, if desirable to them. We 
 would have thought they would have been delighted at the 
 offer and chance to get away from her, especially as all 
 their own mother's relations were there — a married sister 
 and her husband too, and another sister contemplating mar- 
 riage. Ah ! what did it mean ? We acknowledge we never 
 could see. We would have asked no better chance to get 
 rid of a hated one. Ah ! that hated one was with their 
 father. Well, what of that ? They did not obey him, and 
 showed him as much disregard, or more, than he had in 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 171 
 
 bringing a successor to their niotlier, without either consult- 
 ing or telling them of it And would he not be near enough 
 to counsel them if they wished it ? Alas ! no ; that did not 
 suit them ; or were they matured enough in the world to 
 know what was best for them ? He, as head and governor 
 of his family, ought to have enforced his authority, and com- 
 pelled them to remain, else forever thereafter to hold their 
 peace about their father's wife ; then, perhaps, the poor 
 woman might have had some peace with the younger chil- 
 dren, and might have been allowed to raise them so that 
 they might have been a credit to themselves and to their 
 father's wife, too. But, no ! that did not subserve their pur- 
 pose. And w^hether they were bent upon the destruction 
 that followed, or w^hether they were old enough to have 
 their hearts set on such a thing, we are not now prepared to 
 say. Perhaps w^e shall see by the time we get through a 
 work in the future yet, to be entirely devoted to these de- 
 velopments. 
 
 The eldest son, very soon after his father's marriage — 
 about four months, we believe — said to his father, one night, 
 after he had been behaving very improperly to her, and his 
 father spoke to him about it, that " if ever she got any of 
 his property, she would smoke for it." We do not know 
 anything about the smoking part ; but we know very well 
 she did sweat for all she ever got, and for more besides, and 
 that she could, in that length of time, have made more than 
 twice as much by her talents in some other way, and could 
 have made it in peace, too. But enough of this now. We 
 do not wish to anticipate a work that will be specially de- 
 voted to that purpose. 
 
 They moved, and had a pleasant trip of it, except the 
 mud and rain through which they passed. Smith had sent 
 to market and got a very nice barouche ; the eldest son 
 made the selection, for by this time, and long before, he 
 
172 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 loved Mrs. Smith's youngest sister very much, and would 
 have given anything short of his life for her, and said to 
 Mrs. Smith, when the barouche was brought home, he had 
 one request to make of her, which was to lend the carriage 
 to him whenever he should get married. And she promised 
 him. In this barouche they were comfortable in their jour- 
 ney — Mrs. Smith, her sister, and little children being snugly 
 ensconced within, while the eldest son drove and the father 
 rode horseback. This poor boy was very attentive to his 
 father's wife and her sister during this trip. What hindered 
 a continuance of this affectionate course of conduct, we are 
 not prepared to say now, nor do we know that we ever shall 
 this side of a long eternity divine this mystery. 
 
 On their way out to the new State, they spent one day 
 and night at Smith's brother's in an adjoining county. He 
 was very kind to Smith's wife and her sister. Although 
 Jerome Smith's wife was yet living, Mrs. Napoleon Smith 
 could not help seeing, by that eagle-eyed ken that was either 
 fortunately, or unfortunately, her gift, that, if his wife were 
 dead, this brother of her husband would fix his eye on her 
 sister ; for she was a beautiful creature, and lovely in all 
 her ways. She was what is called in common parlance 
 " very smart," and had as much attention paid her, and as 
 many beaux, as any young lady ever had ; and if to her 
 name had been appended, besides all her accomplish- 
 ments and peerless beauty and great cleverness, a goodly 
 portion of the niggers, she would have been surpassed by 
 none as the belle of any place. 
 
 The State to which they moved was wild in the extreme 
 and uncultivated, as before hinted. Mrs. Smith having 
 been brought up in the most refined parts of her own State, 
 thought that if they were good, and had good kind hearts, 
 no matter how uncultivated, she could get along with them. 
 The sequel will prove whether they were so or not Good- 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 173 
 
 ness of heart is sometimes as far from roughness as from 
 the more refined. In fact, more removed from it in one 
 than the other ; for we have sometimes been at a loss to 
 distinguish between real, true goodness and refinement; 
 for goodness does certainly refine. On the other hand, we 
 have' been utterly disgusted and astonished at some rude 
 hoosier of a woman or man in high places who had wealth, 
 and thought they had goodness and refinement because they 
 doled out a few dollars in charity, as they called it, to the 
 poor of their city or the town in which they lived, and 
 ignored and scowled on all others who dared lay claim to 
 any kindness in their city, as if they had a title in fee simple 
 to all the city, and to the acts of all the benevolent within 
 its precincts. AVe say we have been utterly astonished that 
 persons should lay claim to anything like good hreeding, 
 leaving out common politeness ; refinement and goodness 
 being as far from them as heaven is from the pit. 
 
 Abraham, although in one of the roughest ages of the 
 world, was certainly a great example of goodness, good 
 breeding, and refinement. "When his herdmen and Lot, 
 his nephew, had strife between them, mark his words to 
 Lot : " Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and 
 thee, and between my herdmen and thy herdmen ; for we be 
 brethren. Is not the whole laud before thee ? Separate 
 thyself, I pray thee, from me : if thou wilt take the left 
 hand, then I will go to the right ; or if thou depart to the 
 right hand, then I will go to the left." And surely, if 
 Abraham, the friend of God, was so careful to preserve 
 peace between the herdmen of his kinsman and his own, 
 how much more should Smith have been to preserve peace 
 between his wife and children ? 
 15* 
 
174 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MARRIAGE OF JEROME SMITH. 
 
 THIS speech of Abraliam's should have been in Smith's 
 mouth to his children when about to depart for the wild 
 State, if he had been capable of it. But we suppose he was 
 not ; nor did he have peace at his heart ; if he had, he would 
 have had it at any cost. O envy, thou fell destroyer of 
 human peace and happiness ! when wilt thou be banished 
 to thy own place — to thy own dark pit ? How often it is 
 that this destroying passion, in the form of a human being, 
 but really a demon incarnated, is venting its spleen on an 
 innocent, unoffending, good-hearted person, who is altogether 
 unapprised of it. Thus it was in the new State. Mrs. Smith 
 never dreamed that she could be an object of envy to any 
 one. She never thought there was anything about her to 
 envy. 
 
 During one month after their removal, Mrs. Smith was 
 happier than she had ever been since the beginning of her 
 married life. Smith was in a better humor, and would have 
 her ride with him over his new lands and plantation ; make 
 acknowledgments about his former conduct ; say they (the 
 children and relations) kept him half beside himself more 
 than half the time while with them, and that, in fact, he 
 was more than half distracted. And now he was cool, calm, 
 and happy. Poor happiness ! The baseless fabric of a 
 vision. Where was the foundation ? And, poor imbecile 
 man ! we did sometimes think more kindly of him than he 
 deserved, and pitied him in our soul that such was the case 
 with him, and thought that he more than half told the truth 
 about being deranged. But then why punish the innocent 
 for the guilty? Why vent his wrath upon his wife for 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 175 
 
 what others did? Is it because that such is often the case? 
 For it seemed that if ever man loved woman, to mortal 
 eyes it seemed that he loved his wife. And truly, how could 
 he help it? But he loved his own ways better, we presume, 
 which ways, like Saul's, king of Israel, were peculiar to 
 him. Anon all was peace and calm, cheerfulness and 
 seeming bliss with him. Again an evil spirit seemed to 
 trouble him. Such a mixture of good and bad was a great 
 bewilderment and amazement to the observer of his w^ays, 
 though many may be like him. 
 
 Jealousy seemed iiow to be dead for a long time. Smith 
 had promised his wife, before their removal to that State, 
 that he would attend church almost constantly with her, 
 if he w^alked and let her ride — as they brought only a 
 couple of horses out w^th them, leaving the rest behind to 
 work the plantation. He had already gone with her to a 
 Baptist meeting-house (a log cabin) near their home. Once 
 or twice he had attended when convenient. But as Mrs. 
 Smith was a Methodist, she wished to attend Methodist meet- 
 ing. It not being convenient for Smith to attend her, she 
 set off one Saturday morning with an old settler lady in the 
 neighborhood, who was a Baptist, and who had promised to 
 go with Mrs. Smith in quest of her own church, (which was 
 about eight miles off, being the nearest to them,) and that 
 day she joined herself to them by letter in that w'ilderness 
 place. The preacher in charge was on a mission that year 
 in that section, and he was one, too, that Mrs. Smith had 
 formerly known in the old State. 
 
 Smith, true to his promise this time, on several occasions 
 went with his wife and her sister. The next time preaching 
 was at this particular place he went also, and had a very 
 pleasant time. 
 
 The next meeting of any importance was a camp-meeting 
 to be held in an adjoining county, to which one of Mrs. 
 
176 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 Smith's neighbors wished her to go, so that she might go in 
 company with her. To this Smith was not very willing to 
 agree. However, he did not raise any very great barrier. 
 So she went in company with her neighbor and her hus- 
 band ; her neighbor's husband going as escort, and to drive 
 Mrs. Smith's carriage for them. 
 
 A young gentleman from a neighboring settlement also 
 came to escort Mrs. Smith's sister. The husband and wife, 
 with Mrs. Smith, went in her carriage. When they set out, 
 Smith did not appear to like it, though he said nothing. 
 They tarried several days at the camp-meeting, and on their 
 way home Mrs. Smith said she had a treat of a large water- 
 melon for them — a mountain sprout, nearly as large as a 
 half bushel, grown in her garden. 
 
 Oh," said the young gentleman who went with them, 
 "Mr. Smith has eaten it up, because he did not want you 
 to go to the camp-meeting." 
 
 How he got such an idea in his head Mrs. Smith could 
 not think, for there had not been a word spoken about 
 whether Smith was willing or not. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said she, " it will be safe for us, as I raised 
 it in my own garden." 
 
 "Ah!" said Mr. F , "that old man of yours is pretty 
 
 contrary, I think." 
 
 Mrs. Smith said no more, but cast within her mind how 
 
 Mr. F could have come to that conclusion, as she did 
 
 not remember Smith's ever acting very contrarily when Mr. 
 
 F was visiting them, though he had been there to see 
 
 her sister several times. But we suppose men are better 
 judges of one another's real character than women, and 
 when they speak at all they tell the truth. 
 
 They were talking of good looks by the way. " Well," 
 
 said the young man, " if Miss F looks as well as you 
 
 do when she is of the same age, I shall be satisfied." Mrs. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 177 
 
 Smitli was then about twenty-seven years old, and very good 
 looking still — some did say a beautiful Vvoman. When 
 they arrived at home, sure enough Mr. Smith had not eaten 
 the watermelon, but had saved it, and they all ate of it, 
 and dined together at Mr. Smith's house, and enjoyed them- 
 selves very much. Everything^ went off charmingly, as 
 Smith was in a good-humor. The neighbors then dispersed 
 home ; but the young gentleman remained during the night 
 and a portion of the next day. He was fond of the com- 
 pany of Mrs. Smith's beautiful sister. 
 
 Mrs. Smith had comparative rest from Evans's name this 
 year, now that he was at a distance in another State. Eidiug 
 to school every day (for she taught that year) greatly con- 
 duced to her health, which was pretty good now. She 
 taught a mile away from home, and this kind of exercise, 
 together with the riding on horseback daily, refreshed her 
 mind and body, too. She became enceinte again. 
 
 In September of that year Smith and his wife visited 
 their plantation in the old State'. As they crossed the 
 river that lay between the two States, while in the flat, the 
 ferryman told Smith that he had heard his brother's wife 
 was dead. 
 
 Instantly Mrs. Smith's mind was in a reverie, for she felt 
 like that spirit of inspiration or prophecy was upon her — 
 that Smith's brother would be for marrying her sister, if he 
 could get her. Oh, how revolting to her mind ! on account 
 partly of his children, for she did not know, nor hardly 
 think, Jerome Smith to be of a similar temperament to his 
 brother Napoleon, yet she did not know that he was better. 
 She was as much opposed to such a thing ever occurriug as 
 it was possible for her to be — as well she might. She 
 thought very properly, it was enough for one young life to 
 be clouded and shrouded in eternpj gloom and sadness, able 
 only to glean a little happiness here and there between 
 
 M 
 
178 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 spells or paroxysms of Mount Etna or Vesuvius' bursting 
 craters ; or, like an oasis in the desert, quaffing occasionally 
 a cooling draught, or sitting in the shade of some benign 
 tree awhile to rest her weary feet from the burning sands. 
 She thought this enough sacrifice to the Moloch of the 
 present day, without having her beautiful sister an added 
 victim. 
 
 They tarried that night at Smith's brother's. And although 
 her brother-in-law was very kind in his attention to her, yet 
 the children — great girls, nearly grown, (his daughters, 
 and one of their cousins,) although their dear mother and 
 aunt had been dead but a few days, and was buried right in 
 their sight in the yard not more than twenty steps from the 
 door, — were running, skipping and charging all over the 
 house, as though nothing had happened. "My God!" 
 thought she, " what would or could my poor ^ister do in 
 such a family as this ? " Another panorama, she feared, as 
 bad as her own. Prescience is sometimes as painful as 
 actual occurrences. 
 
 The next day they went on their way, and arrived at their 
 plantation, and found all well. They spent several weeks 
 there ; attended an association of the Baptists during the 
 time, and returned home in peace, so far as any jealousies 
 were concerned — Mrs. Smith not having even seen Evans, 
 excepting at a distance, but once, and that on the morning 
 she set out for home, when he and his wife both came out 
 to the gate to see her and bid her good-bye. It was the 
 last time, for many long years, she ever saw either of them. 
 For she never visited that section of country again for the 
 the space of thirty-two years ; nor did they ever visit the 
 State where she resided. Smith had returned home this 
 time, and leaving his wife and children for his eldest son 
 to accompany home. But while she stopped awhile in the 
 county town, she met with many friends and old acquaint- 
 
AXD HUSKS OF STTIXE. 
 
 179 
 
 ances, among others, Evans's same old friend. He saw 
 2>Irs. Smith's little boy and nurse at the carriage, and in- 
 quired whose child it was, (for he had never seen it,) and 
 then weni in search of Mrs. Smith, and invited her to his 
 house, which she declined doing, as she was then on her de- 
 jDarture for her home in the wild country. This also was 
 the last time she ever saw him, till the exclamation recorded 
 in the beginning of this work, " II' thou be he, 0 how fallen, 
 or changed I " 
 
 The following winter all the family moved out, and with 
 it came trouble. Smith's brother moved out, too, having 
 been out during the summer before his wife died, and built 
 houses for this purpose. Mrs. Smith's brother-in-law moved 
 out there also, and with such a long string of relations with- 
 in two miles of one another, they had company enough 
 themselves, and if, like Abraham, they had erected their 
 altar to God, they might have had peace and plenty. Smith's 
 brother, Jerome Smith, sure enough, even before he moved 
 out, while yet his wife's grave was damp from the newly 
 turned clods, had gone into another county to see a widow 
 lady. But she, being by no means inclined to be caught by 
 a man whom she perhaps knew would drink spirituous 
 lio^uors, sometimes asked why he did not go to see his 
 brother Xapoleon's wife's sister ? Ostensibly, this was his 
 purpose all the time, as he confessed afterwards ; but now he 
 said somethinDf about her beino: so vouns: — as she was Mrs. 
 Smith's youngest sister. 
 
 Oh," said the lady, " I would marry her, if she were to 
 have forty children," for she had heard much of Xapoleon 
 Smith's wife, and of the two sisters' excellence. 
 
 Jerome then wrote his brother that he saw but little pros- 
 pect of happiness with the widow's children, saying nothing 
 of his own, and without telling the real truth of the mat- 
 ter ; so that any one at all acquainted with the circum- 
 
180 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 stances, could see the drift of the matter. Mrs. Smith saw 
 it all — and very painfully, too. " She just wished these 
 Smiths would let her and her people alone the balance of 
 their days. She had been married to Napoleon Smith four 
 years now ; and if she were so objectionable to his children, 
 why should his brother use such arts and stratagems to 
 seek her sister f Old men please themselves, and let the 
 children take care of themselves. Pity such men ever had 
 any children to their name. She expected the next attempt 
 would be her sister; nor was she mistaken. And so she 
 told Smith when he read the letter to her. Jerome would 
 be often speaking of going into another State to see a widow 
 lady there. Mrs. Smith soon saw through the whole design. 
 And one evening, when returned from school, she asked her 
 sister to walk into the garden with her ; and they both sat 
 down together there. 
 
 " My dear sister F ," said she, " I see plainly what 
 
 Jerome Smith is after." And then in her gentlest and most 
 subdued tones (for her heart was sad) hinted to her be- 
 loved sister that she had better not go into the arrange- 
 ment. Oh, if she had told her but half what she had 
 already endured, she surely would have been deterred! 
 But, ah ! that she never could do. Her soul was full of 
 mournful sorrow all the time about this period. Her sister 
 seemed to think there was a difference in their dispositions, 
 and that she would not bear what she did. 
 
 Jerome came next morning, and was, to Mrs. Smith's 
 mind, officiously polite ; for she thought there was policy in 
 it. And so there was. Our soul did ever loathe that kind 
 of troublesome politeness for a purpose ; whereas, as soon 
 as the purpose is gained, there would be no more appear- 
 ance of even common, necessary courtesy, than a hog shows 
 to a prince walking by. We have seen several men in our 
 life, old widowers especially, who generally have more au- 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 181 
 
 dacity than any other characters under the sun, particularly 
 when a new wife was in view, all forgetful of the old one. 
 We have seen them the most obsequiously polite, as a 
 Yankee dandy, although perhaps clod-hoppers, — who, by 
 the way, are as good as any, provided they were not fools 
 and hypocrites, — rendering themselves ridiculous before 
 marriage, by their offensive, badly assumed gallantry, and 
 afterwards could be as sullen or sulky as any old stubborn 
 ox ; would neither gee nor haw, pull one way or the other, 
 but just lie down jiat in his sulks. Kow if anything on 
 earth can make our soul hate them, it is this deception and 
 hypocrisy put on to get a wife, and then not keep it up. 
 For if it be necessary to use hypocrisy to gain a wife, it is 
 necessary to continue it to keep her. You see, gen- 
 tlemen, we are for the right thing. The square righteous- 
 ness consists in doing right things. What do you mean by 
 putting on these cloaks to show yourselves to the fair sex ? 
 Do you think they all are fools ; and that by befooling 
 them, and putting on or assuming a character not your 
 ovv'u, when you drop the guise, they will not have discern- 
 ment enough to know it ? Or are you such tyrants, that, 
 like most of that hated class, you do these things to gain 
 your point, and then when the slave is within your mighty 
 autocratic clutches, you don't care ; let her help herself if 
 she can. Do you think love comes this way ? Well now 
 you are worse deceived than Eve was, when it took the 
 subtilty of the beast and the devil, too, to deceive her ; of 
 which ye lords of creation love to boast so much that wo- 
 man was first in fault. 
 
 Our very soul is sick of this cant, and we venture, by 
 the grace of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, our Ad- 
 vocate, that woman will not be the last in fault. Many 
 of you are a strange set of beings. Created in the image 
 of God, you " have changed the glory of the uncorruptible 
 16 
 
182 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 God " into any image that suits, even to brute beasts or 
 sullen oxen or mules. This is a subject so replete with 
 matter that we could write a whole book on it. One of our 
 gentlemen, when subscribing for this book, asked if he was 
 buying a cudgel for his own head. If he be a real gentle- 
 man, such as God designs Adam and all his boys to be, he 
 will have a high seat in our picture-gallery after awhile. 
 He will be so exalted that, even to man's highest ambition, 
 he will say, it is enough. But to fall down and worship im- 
 becile man — debased man, vicious man, a man warped 
 till he is as crooked as a shepherd's crook — never! We 
 pander to no man's vices. You allow none in us. We want 
 none. We wish to stand before our Maker as pure as the 
 driven snow. And such we will be by the grace of our 
 dear kinsman — our elder brother — the Saviour, who, 
 if we understand the New Testament aright, particularly 
 vindicated the cause of poor woman, because he saw through 
 all time. Since the days of Abraham she has been down- 
 trodden, except it was some of the more wicked of our sex, 
 them you exalted. Men are generally more inclined to 
 follow the advice of bad women than of good. Why, we 
 do not know, unless it be that they are more inclined to 
 evil than good, like Adam. It seems to us that he took 
 very little persuading to break his fealty to heaven's King, 
 seeing he was made monarch and lord of all created fowls 
 and beasts. Poor innocent Adam ! *' The woman whom thou 
 gavest to be with me, she gave to me, and I did eat." Poor 
 fellow ! He was very willing to do what he wanted to do, with- 
 out asking himself the consequences. Women are not all fools, 
 if Eve was, but are much more eagle-eyed than men often 
 suppose, and would often hold out the bread of heaven to 
 them, instead of the husks of the swine as Eve did, if they 
 would accept it. You see, we hold the bread of heaven to 
 consist in doing God's holy will on earth. But, 0 mercy I 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 183 
 
 if it be a young woman, particularly a girl of svreet sixteen, 
 who offers it, some of the,?e old larks of three or four score 
 and ten can be as sprightly as birds of the air, can mount 
 their steeds, bounce into their carriages, throw away their 
 crutches, and, in the name of the young beauty they wor- 
 ship, do many wonderful works, so that one would imagine, 
 if we did not see them, that they might be boys of ten years 
 of age. 
 
 But to return. Jerome Smith rode all the way to the 
 school-house with Grace Smith, much to her annoyance, 
 knowing so well, as she did, his schemes. He talked all the 
 
 while of his intended trip to T , which was still more 
 
 disgusting to her, for she knew that his State of T was 
 
 close by. Xow his sister-in-law would have very much ap- 
 preciated his attentions, if she had not so clearly seen through 
 the plot. He then, true enough, wheeled right about, went 
 back to Xapoleon Smith's, wooed her sister, and they were 
 engaged by the time she returned in the evening. 
 
 Here is another grand objection we have to widowers, who 
 are determined to get a wife at all hazards. Ejnowing there 
 are some things that would not be best known to favor their 
 cause, either in reference to themselves or children, they 
 make haste to catch the unwary, unsuspecting bird or 
 young creature, before sound of anything to deter reaches 
 her ears that might prevent their spoil of the prey. Xow 
 if the widower has no children, or if they are babes or 
 mere infants, he has a right, as any other man, to get mar- 
 ried when he pleases. But if he has grown-up children, it 
 is his imperative duty, as the father of those childi-en, to 
 make all things clever between his children and his intended 
 bride before marriage. Any man that does not do this is 
 not an honest man in the sight of God. He is robbing his 
 children of their happiness, and small matter would it be if 
 he had none himself, provided nobody suiiered but himself. 
 
184 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEK, 
 
 But, of all others, he will hug himself in Adamic shifts, or 
 fig-leaves, and make many excuses. The most potent of all 
 is, to his weak soul, to lay it on his wife, though in years, 
 compared to him, she may be a babe. She must reduce to 
 order, without his co-operation, the confusion of a score of 
 years, and the turbulence and unbridled passions of himself 
 and all his young human mules. Delectable task ! Young 
 ladies, don't you desire the position? 
 
 Mrs. Smith thought Jerome had made a quick trip to 
 T , a distance of several hundred miles to be accom- 
 plished in a day, thirty or forty years ago, when railroads 
 in that section of country had hardly been heard of. So it 
 was just as she expected, and he went off quickly to the 
 young lady's parents, in the old State, to get their consent. 
 
 This was not so far as T , being only about fifty miles. 
 
 He never said another word to his sister-in-law, although 
 the bride elect was living in her house. Perhaps he was 
 afraid he might get a damper to his impetuosity, and a 
 check to his haste. 
 
 They were married. The ceremony was performed by the 
 very same young man who had accompanied her to the 
 camp-meeting, being the squire in that district, who, when 
 he heard of this matter, it was said, was ^Imost as much 
 surprised as Evans had been concerning Grace's marriage. 
 
 When they came in to be married, trading with ladies 
 was in discussion. Napoleon Smith said he never traded 
 with a woman but he got cheated. Jerome, his brother, 
 said, " Why, that is a burlesque on you, Grace." Mrs. Smith 
 made no reply, but felt it not, well kaowing, if there was 
 any cheating at all, it was on the other side, and that 
 of the deepest and most vital kind — that of youth, beauty, 
 and intellect all swallowed up in an overwhelming mael- 
 strom of deepest deception. She did not think it worthy 
 of a reply. And this is another evidence of the pusilla- 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 185 
 
 nimity of Adam's boys, old or young. If marriage is a 
 mere trade of barter and commerce, if the gains do not 
 come out as no cool-headed fool ever icould expect, the 
 blame is laid on the woman. In the financial deficit it is 
 " the ivoman whom thou gavest to be Avith me," " she did 
 cheat, and I cheated." Xoble man ! Like sire, like son. 
 
 Grace, although mute and silent as the grave on this 
 memorable morning, thought, while she saw her beautiful 
 sister in her white robes on the floor, that she would rather 
 see her laid out for burial than to become the wife of her 
 husband's brother, with his children. Her fears were but 
 too well founded. They went then to their own home, and 
 Xapoleon Smith took a short trip back to the old place to 
 settle up all the affairs there. 
 
 That year Smith's second daughter had married. She 
 had bought goods to the amount of two hundred and fifty 
 dollars by the month of May. Mrs. Smith, for herself, 
 family, servants, and all, had bought about two hundred 
 dollars' worth for the whole year. But she had made that 
 much by her school, and taught six of his children besides, 
 for she had none of her own large enough to attend school. 
 
 One day after this, ISTapoleon Smith was overhauling and 
 overlooking the accounts, as he was sure to do. And 
 although pleasa*ht enough when he settled them, — for she 
 had by her industry helped to cover their new house by pay- 
 ing for the workman's hire to his master fifty dollars in tui- 
 tion for his brother and sister, and she had fifty dollars col- 
 lected and laid away in his drawer at one time, of her labor 
 in tuition, and had clothed his children with her own 
 money and labor, — yet, after all, he must get angry with his 
 wife, as was usual with him, with or without a pretext. She 
 must bear the burden alone. His daughter was out of the 
 way now, more than a hundred miles off, and could hear 
 
 none of it. The abuse was for her ear, although praise was 
 16* 
 
186 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 deserved, for the daughter grabbed all she could by mind- 
 ing the old servant, who said to her, " You are going to 
 marry a poor man ; buy all you can.. Your Pa 's able to pay 
 it." So she did, and of course made no exertions, as Mrs. 
 Smith did, to pay her scores, but bought them on credit, 
 got married, and was off and out of the way. 
 
 Smith said to^his wife, " Were it not for your situation, I 
 would take that cowhide and give you a good thrashing ! " 
 
 O Lord God, our heavenly Father ! Whenever we hear 
 of a man talking of dealing blows to his wife, deserved or 
 undeserved, our honest indignation rises to the highest 
 pitch ; for we have ever considered this one of the abuses to 
 which the grand adversary of all good has cited man's, 
 brutal man's attention ; for none but a brutal man would 
 resort to such a brutal process. We see nothing of it in the 
 written Avord of God, absolutely nothing to authorize man 
 to such acts of violence and barbarity towards the wife of 
 his bosom. What ! beat a woman whom you have sworn 
 at God's holy altar to cherish and protect, and then go to 
 the conjugal bed with her? A decent devil wo]iild blush at 
 the thought, and we are confident no man of any nice sensi- 
 bility whatever would ever even think of such a thing, and 
 then say, " My dear, I . love you ! " Infinite scorning and 
 nausea take possession of our soul just at this spectacle. 
 We have said it is enough to make the devil spew. We say 
 it again. Ah ! yes, worse than some of your bacchanalian 
 subjects do sometimes to their midnight devotees. There 
 we consider all who resort to this measure the immediate 
 agents and commissioners of the Prince of darkness. For 
 he being prince, does many things, and commissions many 
 things, at which devils of less malevolence of disposition 
 blush. 
 
 Mrs. Smith said nothing to this double-refined, subli- 
 mated, and undeserved threat of cruelty, but went out and 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 187 
 
 •wept. It T\'as not long before the birth of her second son. 
 A peculiarly delicate situation for a lady to be in, to have 
 her mind distracted and torn to pieces by the very brute- 
 man who was the father of her child. Then it was, for the 
 first time, she began to wish herself avray from this accursed 
 family. Accursed by the father's conduct, for now the 
 relations were all left behind of wliom he complained so 
 much. Evans was left behind, and who was there now to lay 
 the iniquity of his doings upon ? Be patient, kind reader, 
 and he will find somebody, some scapegoat, erelong, to bear 
 his iniquity, even in this wilderness. His fertile brain would 
 or could not be long idfe in such a quest, and for such a 
 purpose, to screen his holy self 
 
 Mrs. Smith saw the cloud arising, though perchance small 
 at first, and the tempest brewing ; and if in the bitterness 
 of her soul, her poor crushed heart, she wished herself far 
 away from him, we cannot blame lier. Hitherto she had 
 never thought of wishing herself from him ; but now the 
 thought began to present itself not uiifrequently. For had 
 he not perjured himself time and apain till endurance was 
 almost a sin ? Had he not j^i'omised her when they came 
 to this wilderness country, as an asylum from the stormy 
 blasts of his family, that, when away from the relations, he 
 would do better, and be quiet? Xow the fagots had all 
 been removed out there to her wilderness home. His 
 brother and his force were near by, — himself, the greatest 
 and most inflammable fagot of all, ready upon every 
 light occasion to take fire. The combustibles were thicken- 
 ing on every hand. " The Philistines be upon thee, Samson," 
 would have been a good word of alarm. But, alas! like 
 Samson, she was bound. She had followed him out to that 
 rough country more because he was afraid of her seeing 
 polite society than anything else ; had toiled hard all the 
 year in her school that she might make enough to pay for 
 
188 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 all she bought, which was mostly for his own family — all 
 to keep and have peace. She had but one little boy, her 
 only child as yet, and behold this was the reward ! If there 
 is a God who ruleth in the earth, does He look upon such 
 things with allowance ? Although it is said in His word, 
 "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as 
 unto the Lord," how is it to be performed, when he will 
 take his wife, and even persuade her to go, against her 
 will, to make selections, and trade for the children and 
 family, as he did a few days after they were married, and 
 then the next moment be angry enough with her to kill 
 her? O man! thou hard-hearth being, what will become 
 of thee in the day of judgment, about the wife of thy 
 bosom ? Mrs. Smith had been heard to say, before their 
 removal, that she would go with him anywhere. 
 
 One day Evans and his wife had been to church. On 
 their return by Smith's house in the old State, he invited 
 Evans and his wife to stop for dinner. " Well," said Evans, 
 " it is just as Kuth pleases ; if she will stay, I will stay with 
 her, and not quarrel with her for it afterwards." 
 
 This was after the episode of jealousy brought to light by 
 the negro, and showed the nobleness of the man. It ought 
 to have been a shot for Smith, if he were not impervious to 
 the core of his own foibles ; for there were few things he 
 ever consented for his wife to do, but that he had a quarrel 
 or a war about it afterwards. A quarrel he could never 
 get, for Mrs. Smith would not quarrel with him. But he 
 would declare war. 
 
 At the dinner-table they were speaking of the intended 
 removal. 
 
 " Cousin Grace," said Evans, " how do you like the idea ? " 
 
 " Oh," said she, " I will go with him to the jumping-off 
 place ! I was not willing to go while the Indians were in 
 that State, but now I am ready to go," 
 
AXD HUSKS OF S^V1SE, 
 
 189 
 
 Poor creature I She might a? well have gone among the 
 Indians; for we leave it to all refined persons of nice feel- 
 ings and sensibility, if such treatment as she met with after- 
 wards was not worse — a thousand times worse — than to 
 have been tomahawked, or burnt to death by a savage foe ? 
 And yet the world knew it not ; and if it did, could care 
 little, or do little in the matter. "Whereas, if she had been 
 murdered by the savages, some would or might have 
 pitied. 
 
 And here we just remark, that although our mind utterly 
 revolts at anything like parting, when once man and woman 
 are married, yea, we would suffer many horrors before re- 
 sorting to this painful refuge for down-trodden, crushed, and 
 oi^pressed woman ; yet Moses, for the hardness of men's 
 hearts, permitted their wives to be separated from them. 
 And in view of the ten thousand sorrows Mrs. Smith en- 
 dured, and what was entailed on her helpless offspring, we say 
 most unequivocally, in face of men, devils, and angels, that, 
 after the experience and observation of many long years, we 
 believe it would have been best for her to have left her in- 
 hospitable chief — his dwelling, his children, his negroes, his 
 all, and all her own people, who were there among them at 
 times. Her sister who had married Jerome Smith would 
 no doubt have persuaded her from it. But she ought to 
 have known her own business best, and where the shoe 
 pinched ; for now hell was opening from beneath, and 
 such a swarm of demons, as she could never have had any 
 conception of If she had, surely she would have made some 
 preparation for them. But like the lamb to the slaughter- 
 pen she is going again. She knew there were sorrows and 
 troubles brewing, but never the half of the extent of them 
 — their turpitude nor source. She did not think of leaving. 
 ISTo ; only the wish that she was far away from the present 
 troubles, and she did fear worse coming. We think she 
 
190 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEK, 
 
 would ha^rdly have liad moral courage to breast tlie storm, 
 had departure in reality have possessed her mind. Smith 
 would have been as a roaring lion, his brother and all their 
 children his allies. And the world, v/here would that have 
 been ? She did not ask, for she contemplated no such thing 
 as going away. As to expenditures for the family, she had 
 just as much right to distribute and lay out for it, especially 
 when she earned the money herself, as Smith had to buy 
 land. He had endowed her with the privilege, and told her 
 to do just as she pleased, and she disobeyed no law of God 
 or man in buying what she did. She was prudent and 
 careful, saving and economical ; neither stingy nor nig- 
 gardly, but generous and liberal. 
 
 At the camp-meeting mentioned before, she asked the 
 preacher to whom she gave her letter of recommendation, 
 for the love of God's sake, to send them a preacher from the 
 conference to that wild part of the country. They sent one. 
 Their new unfinished house was in this way first dedicated 
 
 to the service of God. A Brother W , from the old 
 
 State, whom Smith knew, called on them in their new 
 home, and Mrs. Smith called their neighbors, friends, and 
 relatives together, and had preaching in the new house 
 ere they dwelt in it. Poor walls of the house! How 
 many tales they could tell, if speech was their gift ! 
 Preaching first the word of God, and then afterwards the 
 enacting of a tragedy at which all ears tingled who 
 heard it. . . . 
 
 Another year rolled round. The eighth of February 
 arrived, and Mrs. Smith gave birth to another fine boy. 
 She nearly lost her life in the agony, but in a few days, 
 such was her vivacity, or rather the power of God and her 
 faith, that she began to revive. The preacher came, and 
 there was no house in which to preach. He came to Smith's 
 house, as Brother W had done. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 191 
 
 Mrs. Smitli was now up. The young preacher looked as 
 though he hardly knew what to do, as Smith would stand 
 at the door, as if he would hardly ask him in. He was one 
 of the strangest beings in the world, and oft reminded us of 
 those who strain at gnats and swallow camels. If it had 
 been a rough-hewn or coarse fellow, he would not have 
 hesitated to ask him even into Mrs. Smith's very room. Or 
 forsooth, his eldest son, than whom a coarser fellow hardly 
 existed, when he had a mind to be vulgar, would come into 
 her room when he pleased, but a preacher was quite an- 
 other thing. He ever was more afraid of those of whom there 
 was least danger. Vie suppose because he thought them 
 more suitable to his wife's mind. However, he finally asked 
 the preacher in, and he gave a good little sermon to a re- 
 spectable little crowd gathered on the occasion. We sup- 
 pose if Mr. F had been there, he would have spoken 
 
 out again, but of course the preacher had nothing to say. 
 We wondered what he thought. Now Smith was used to 
 do this way, if any reliance can be placed in what the old 
 domestics would say. . Anything rather than preaching, or 
 much of it about his house. Mrs. Smith thought him the 
 strangest Methodist she had ever seen, no invitingness about 
 him to the ministers. " Come in, thou blessed of the Lord," 
 was the language good people of old were wont to address 
 to the servants of the Lord — Abraham, for instance. " Be- 
 hold now, my lords, if ye count me worthy, come into mine 
 house." But it was a great source of joy to Mrs. Smith to 
 hear the Gospel while passing though the fire and sojourn- 
 ing in trouble. 
 
 Her sister and brother-in-law fi'om the old State had 
 been staying with them, and were now about moving to 
 their own home, which they had been building. It was not 
 long after the birth of her babe — a day, we think. Smith 
 came, without his wife thinking of such a thing, and said to 
 
192 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 her, " Have a jar of lard put up for them.'* They had not 
 yet laid in their provisions. She had it done, about five or 
 six pounds in a small jar. As soon as they were gone, he 
 came to his wife, and said very crossly 
 
 " Did you have' that lard weighed ? " 
 
 " No," said she. 
 
 " Why did you not ? " said he, pettishly. 
 
 She being very badly off in health that morning, these 
 words set her crying. And thus it was both times she 
 had been thus suffering, he caused her a crying spell, for 
 her feelings, always tender, were on these occasions particu- 
 larly sensitive, so that the slightest rough touch, at such a 
 time, was sure to open the flood-gates of well pent-up, well- 
 guarded and long-suppressed grief. 
 
 Oh, how her heart did melt and the tears flow ! And 
 now that dear boy is away from her this day, and her 
 heart is still in sorrow about him, for he has been allured 
 away from her by her enemies, and is married prematurely, 
 so that, with all her hopefulness, she trembles for his happi- 
 ness. Oh that God Avould at once set her free from all her 
 fears ; give her the desires of her heart, and let her have some 
 joy for all her trouble and sorrow in this world, which she 
 has long waded through. 
 
 Things did not go smoothly long at a time during these 
 days, for now they had a double warfare. Her sister 
 having married Jerome, there was now a double portion 
 of tongues to fly about the two sisters, and the reason why 
 we shall mention him so often, is the important bearing he 
 had on her happiness. And although as lovely and amiable 
 as Josephine in many of her ways and forbearance, yet 
 Jerome's family, like ISTapoleon Bonaparte's relations, took 
 it upon them to dislike her ; for what, we never could tell, 
 unless it was because she was too good and straightforward 
 for them. 
 
AND HUSKS OF 
 
 SWINE. 
 
 193 
 
 One Sabbath, while Mrs. Smith was yet confined, her 
 
 nearest neighbor, Mrs. H , came over to see her. Her 
 
 manner was so soft and kind, that Mrs. Smith thought 
 surely she was the best old lady in the world. Some little 
 music was going on, as they had an instrument in the 
 house, brought there by Mrs. Smith's father. Jerome and 
 liis wife were there that evening. Mrs. Smith looked at 
 her sister and her babe, and thought of both their- situ- 
 ations, and then she cried again. They were delicious tears, 
 such as one sheds from a conscious innocence being op- 
 pressed. 
 
 Jerome's dislike to his brother's wife originated from his 
 hearing that she did not want him to have her sister, for 
 one must not disapprove cmything done by these Smiths, no 
 matter how modestly and lady-like done. Although he 
 spoke of bucketing his brother Napoleon for marrying, so 
 soon after his wife's death, an English doll, as he called her, 
 yet he was as eager, and actually did marry Mrs. Smith's sister 
 in less time, after his wife's death, than his brother had 
 done. Another proof, among many, that men often do 
 themselves things which they condemn in others. 
 
 Another Sabbath afternoon, before Mrs. Smith was abroad 
 again, Jerome and his wife called to see her again. She 
 looked wistfully at her dear sister, as much as to say, " Ah ! 
 poor bird, you are caught, too ? You will have your troubles, 
 too ! " Surely her face must have been a great tell-tale sure 
 enough, a mirror, — a transparent glass, — for Jerome said 
 to his wife on their return home : 
 
 " What makes Grace look at you so, as if she thought 
 you would have trouble, too ? " His wife replied, " She did 
 not know that she did." 
 
 Jerome had once been a member of the Methodist Church, 
 but ^before his first wife's death had been attending and 
 was concerned in the sports of the field — horse-racing, and, it 
 17 N 
 
194 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 was said, had gambled, too, so that now lie was owing a 
 good deal of money. 
 
 Shortly after his second marriage, he took his wife back 
 into the old State, and she bought dresses for all his 
 daughters — four in number. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 JEKOME SMITH. 
 
 SOME time in March Napoleon Smith had a log-rolling, 
 as is customary in new settlements. Mrs. Smith was out 
 near a little branch that morning, immediately after break- 
 fast, endeavoring to find a place to call on the Lord, for 
 she saw trouble in the future. 
 
 Jerome passed her, in company with her other brother- 
 in-law, going to the log-rolling. She thought there was 
 something strange in his manner. Smith had wished their 
 dinners sent to the field, which she took a great deal of 
 pains to do, and sent a splendid dinner, very difierent from 
 what they prepare generally for such occasions. The ser- 
 vants brought word that Mr. Jerome would not eat any of 
 their good dinner. Mrs. Smith was now convinced that 
 something was up, but could not divine what it was. There 
 was nearly always something up in Napoleon's family, and 
 it did not take much, or nothing at all, to have those ups 
 often among them. But this was a new quarter whence 
 to look out for squalls. She knew not Jerome's disposition, 
 but, of course, feared it might be like his brother's. She 
 was not kept long in suspense — not more than twelve hours, 
 at least. 
 
AND 
 
 HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 195 
 
 In the evening of the day, as they returned from work, 
 she saw her husband and his brother walking along slowly, 
 apart from all the others, as if in close conversation. As 
 if the finger of God had pointed at them, it was impressed 
 on her mind, as vivid as a lightning flash, that trouble, 
 some way connected with her sister or herself, or both, was, 
 sure enough, bremng. She said not a word to her husband 
 about anything particularly until next morning, when she 
 asked him why his brother ate no dinner the day before. 
 I reckon he has some one to give him trouble!^' 
 
 Infamous fool ! Why did you not try to prevent his having 
 this some one from trouhling your spendthrift brother? This 
 we add, for Mrs. Smith did not think of such an outburst 
 again from her beautiful husband at that time. 
 
 He continued: "The poor fellow is almost distracted." 
 
 Poor fool ! Why did you not then go to T to get you 
 
 a wife, and get whole distracted ? It was, however, to Mrs. 
 N. Smith a stab with a barbed and poisoned arrow. " O 
 men ! " she mentally said, "will ye all deceive?" Here was 
 the unkindest rub of all. 
 
 Smith had been married to his wife more than four years, 
 and his wife's sister had been an inmate of their family for 
 full eighteen months, had done all the sewing of the family, 
 and attended to the domestic concerns when her sister was 
 at school. His eldest son would have been the proudest 
 fellow in the world to have married her, if she would have 
 deigned to accept him. She was, as has been before stated, a 
 smart, nice girl, and considered a great beauty. If there 
 had been anything amiss in her or his wife, why did he not 
 warn his brother ? But no, he urged on the match. 
 
 J erome had persuaded the other brother-in-law to move 
 out there. His generous impulses being greater than his 
 circumstances, after wasting all he had in the old State, he 
 had promised to assist him, as he was poorer than either 
 
196 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 Jerome or Napoleon, tliougli his father was as well off as 
 either of them. It seemed he had promised more than he 
 was willing to perform, in the way of provisions ; and now, 
 when his brother-in-law sent the second time for some corn, 
 instead of acting like a man, and sending him word that he 
 had no more corn to spare, he skulked off to the field with 
 his eldest son, and sent a negro to tell the servant he had 
 no more corn for him ; his wife not knowing what it meant. 
 So the next Sabbath they were all at Napoleon Smith's 
 again — Jerome and his wife, the brother-in-law and his 
 wife, who was a sister of the two Mrs. Smiths. Grace 
 Smith, who loved the house of God more than all kindred 
 or all the world, had induced her husband to go to class- 
 meeting with her, and to preaching, three or four miles off. 
 During their absence, Jerome's wife and her other sister 
 walked into the new house that Napoleon Smith was having 
 erected. Jerome's guilty conscience thought they had gone 
 there for the purpose of talking over the matter. 
 
 Napoleon and his wife soon returned from church. All 
 had apparently been enjoying themselves well. Mrs. N. 
 Smith felt calm and happy, as a Christian ought to feel who 
 has left the troubled world and gone to get her heart im- 
 bued with heavenly and divine things by the outpouring 
 of the Spirit of the Lord. She noticed that Jerome seemed 
 to be in a fever, for when some of the family asked some of 
 his daughters to remain with them during the night, " Stay 
 at home," said he, " and then there will be no lies told on 
 you," with a bitter retort, as if he had a whole host of 
 enemies before him. What is the matter, Mr. Jerome 
 Smith? No one will be particularly aggrieved, if your 
 daughters do not remain at their uncle's to-night. True, 
 Mrs. Grace Smith, as a loving, social lady, liked to have her 
 husband's nieces about her. But there was such an under- 
 current going on, and she had hardly as yet got an inkling 
 
AXD HUSKS OF S^I^'E. 
 
 197 
 
 of it, — the 'hvo sets of cousins getting together and dis- 
 cussing the merits or demerits of their respective step- 
 mothers : in short, doing a little, if not a good deal, of -what 
 Jerome said in another direction, telling lies, — that now 
 her happy, buoyant spirit was beclouded by the atmosphere 
 of so many ungenial spirits, and she did not know which 
 was the one or one from another, in the double camp of 
 disaffection, and she really did not care whether they re- 
 mained or not, for they would be no company for her; 
 her religious tastes were in no favor with them : but oftener 
 than any other way, if not willingly, they would be lured oil 
 in some nook or corner with ZN apoleons children, and there 
 sit or stand and have holy confab, some whispering, back- 
 biting tale about their aunt and stepmother. Xo one wishes 
 much company under such delectable circumstances. As 
 Grace did not understand what Jerome was driving at, she 
 made no reply. 
 
 yow the night before the log-rolling, Jerome undertook 
 to drink hiniself drunk, and abused his wife ^ith his tongue. 
 Then he thundered out what he had thought the Sabbath. 
 
 before, These d d long talks he had no use for."' 
 
 Alludino: to his wife and her sister walkinof into the new 
 house to see, and perhaps to talk, too, if they wished. It 
 was a much longer walk and talk than he took with his 
 brother ZSTapoleon. That was on his side : all was well then. 
 Tyrants never want others to do as they allow themselves 
 to do. But his wife was a spiiited lady, and not as taciturn 
 as Mrs. Grace Smith. 
 
 ''I'll talk vAili ray relauoihs ichen I phase,'' said the spuited 
 lady. 
 
 ■■ G d you and your relations, too I '"" said he. 
 
 D scamps 1 
 
 Heigh-ho I bravo, ]\Ir. Jerome I to whom are you talking ? 
 Is this the wire you intended to go so far to get ? or is it the 
 17* ' 
 
198 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 beautiful young lady whom you were in such a hurry to 
 marry? All this in less than three months. Was Mrs. 
 Grace Smith wrong in her fears about you ? And all this 
 was, as far as we can see, without any fault on his wife's 
 part or side. But Grace had not feared even so much as 
 this. Profane language had never been sounded in her ears 
 in her married life, nor even with a drinking father, like 
 some do on such occasions. The case was really worse 
 than her fears. All this happening before the night of the 
 day following the famous log-rolling. This was the pretty 
 mess Jerome and his brother were talking over by the way- 
 side from the field. For, like a great many men, he had to 
 run to relations to tell his troubles, when he had made 
 them himself, and get sympathy, when he needed it only, or 
 deserved it only for his vices. But woe to the wife, if she 
 should also seek sympathy from the same source. Then 
 for Smith to say to his wife Grace, " I reckon he has some 
 one to give him trouble ! " " O my soul, come not thou 
 into their secret ; unto their assembly, mine honor, be not 
 thou united." Surely many volumes could be written on 
 the subject of the cruelty of men to their wives. 
 
 While we write to- day, an amiable young woman is a 
 corpse, and now gone to the grave, who was married to a 
 v/idower in this place. About five or six months ago, 
 when she was full of grief at the death of an only sister, 
 her husband came to her already woe-stricken father, and 
 told him his daughter was getting very lazy, and would not 
 attend to anything, and unless there was an alteration, there 
 would be a separation. The separation took place. The 
 poor young woman, being in a delicate situation, was 
 laid low on a bed of affliction. He helped to carry her back 
 to her father's ; and there she has sufiTered ever since, till 
 night before last, when she gave birth to a poor little boy- 
 child. Yesterday she died, and now is on the way to her 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 199 
 
 grave ! O man, thy cruelty never will be knoTrn till the 
 clay of judgment! 
 
 But it seems as if passion's rage is not to stop here. Two 
 of the prominent men of the town — one a young man of 
 promise, the other a married man, with a sweet wife and 
 four little children — have gone out to fight a duel ! Is the 
 devil turned loose to do what he pleases, by inflaming their 
 minds in deadly hate to one another. Oh, if it were our 
 own children, what could w^e do? Just to-day, as we saw 
 that young man walking up the square, as we have often 
 seen him walking,, those words of Kebuchadnezzer, king 
 of Babylon, came to our mind, and "those that walk in 
 pride. He is able to abase." Of which truth he was a 
 striking example, when this proud monarch was humbled 
 in the dust before the "God of heaven." The married gen- 
 tleman we have seen walk the streets ofttimes, and we thought 
 him particularly careless about his soul's salvation. And 
 O our soul, what is the result ? are they both killed, or will 
 one or the other fall ? All the wiiole town was in excite- 
 ment ; half the male citizens followed for the purpose of 
 dissuading them from this work of death and destruction. 
 We could not sleep. An angel of a young woman followed 
 in the person of the young man's sister — all, all was in a 
 stir. Next morning they returned — the angel of peace 
 had prevailed against the angel of death. All hail ! we 
 cried, as we met the married gentleman, that you have re- 
 turned alive ! All hail ! said all the friends, and the town 
 was in quiet and at rest. These men lived many years after, 
 but are now both dead, and know the truth of eternity. 
 
 But to return. This conduct of Jerome Smith's did not 
 stop here. Some say that bad beginnings make good end- 
 ings. The contrary to this is our opinion and experience. 
 Observation too often has shown the revei^e. No general 
 rule without exceptions, is an old saying. Soon after 
 
200 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEJ^, 
 
 Napoleon Smith had let out his budget of secrets, "he 
 reckoned he had some one to give him trouble,'' Jerome came 
 in quite sober this time. Some one had brought some butter 
 for Grace to buy, and although they needed it for the 
 table. Napoleon Smith said she might pay for it herself if 
 ghe bought it. 
 
 " Tell him," said Jerome, " he ought to pay for it," for, 
 to do him justice, he was more generous in many things 
 than his brother was. But Mrs. Smith thought him so in- 
 sincere on this occasion in offering to favor her side, after 
 what had passed, she turned from him, and said, " If she were 
 to pay for the butter herself, it*would not be the first time 
 she had paid for things for the family out of her own earn- 
 ings, for she had just a little while before advanced fifty 
 dollars to^buy a beef and other things for the family." 
 
 Jerome knew not what his brother had been telling his 
 wife. If he had been a prudent man, from mere policy, it 
 seems, he might have kept to himself what his brother had 
 said. But he was so much in the habit of letting out every- 
 thing of the kind to his wife, because she heard and often 
 said nothing, we suppose he thought it all right for her to 
 hear herself blamed, and then her beautiful sister, too. But 
 she now, for the first time in her married life, began to sus- 
 pect them, and went out and left them to hold their unholy 
 council together, as she thought they would be pretty 
 apt to carry on, now they had begun. She went to the 
 kitchen to see about the affairs there. 
 
 When Jerome left, she was standing with her back to 
 him, and did not turn round. He seemed to cast in his 
 mind what it meant, for he did not know what she had 
 heard ; for he said some years later, he could not tell how 
 Grace should know everything he said or did in a moment 
 of time. Ah ! there was an electricity in these things 
 which needed not much revealing. Her already sharpened 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 201 
 
 sight and wits had, by this time, seen enough to know what 
 a hint, a look, or walking together meant. Her already 
 lacerated heart could be very easily set to bleeding afresh. 
 Buch people were no fit associates for a refined Christian 
 spirit. If she was wrong, why not tell her so in plain 
 terms, and not accuse or suspect without cause, and then 
 serve her beloved sister in the same way ? But now that 
 Jerome appeared to be in a better state of mind, ought she 
 to have noticed his past conduct with indilference ? 
 
 Grace thought him deceptive, as most persons are in all 
 such cases ; ■ and such were her truthfulness and honesty, she 
 could never look upon a departure from these nohle traits 
 of character with any allowance. Because, what j^urpose 
 do duplicity and double dealing answer, but the revelation 
 of their possessor's heart ? and then the aversion consequent 
 on such a development to an honest, candid, noble miud. 
 By this time she had seen so much of it in the families, 
 that she thought there was little else among them. And 
 she thought very nearly right in this matter, with regard to 
 the bearing they had towards the two sisters. 
 
 The rub now was, that they had her husband in it, who 
 had, by his canting, always pretended that he was hers 
 alone, though he might have been in it all the time, but 
 such a thought had never presented itself to her before. 
 Formerly, he was so at variance, or pretended to be, with his 
 first wife's relations and his children — real or pretended, 
 we cannot say — yet she never thought him leagued with 
 any of them, and whether he was, God only knows. Per- 
 haps some of the old negroes were his confidants when the 
 fits were on him. But now, O God ! she was sure he had 
 an ally in his brother, and woe to her small grain of 
 happiness ! It would be worse than ever, which indeed was 
 the fact. O Lord God, thou righteous judge of quick 
 and dead, what did she not sufier for the next ten years that 
 
202 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEK, 
 
 came? No tongue on this earth can tell. Better for her a 
 thousand times, if she could have had her two little boys 
 with her, and have left them forever. And when the last 
 little boy was born, oh, how she did wish such a thing, if it 
 could have been possible, that she might leave this wicked 
 family in which she was such a bone of contention. But 
 the devil is not so ready to let his captives go, although 
 always growling at them. 
 
 Ye ghosts of the past, we invoke you again ; come forth 
 from your long resting-places ! These ghost of past words 
 and acts are slumbering before the throne of God, waiting 
 the dread day of open development and righteous judg- 
 ment. . . . That Mrs. Smith was destined to meet with 
 many troubles, everything seemed now to portend, and that 
 Jerome Smith was to give shape and coloring to her troubles, 
 she could but divine. As her mind partook more of the 
 spiritual than of the natural, she dwelt much in holy con- 
 templation of the spirit land. 
 
 One night, in visions of the night, it appeared that she 
 was riding with Jerome Smith in a carriage ; meanwhile 
 the heavens grew black and lowering, and the rain was 
 pouring down in torrents on them. Then she was running 
 for her life through mud and water, lifting up her hands to 
 heaven, and saying, " Yes, I am known in the upper worlds ! 
 Yes, I am known in the upper worlds ! O ye howling devils, 
 how ye do hate to see this ! " After such a vision, it would 
 have been well for her to have quit her present place of 
 abode, for to her such visions of the night always were a 
 warning of coming troubles ; and yet she did not then so 
 view it, but the next day went about singing, " The Lord is 
 my Shepherd, etc.," and was happy all day, until she heard 
 an oath from her father, who was at work in some part of 
 the yard. This troubled her. 
 
 That day they moved into their new house, being the 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 203 
 
 tentli day of May, 18 — , Tvliich house had been dedicated 
 to the Lord, by ha\^Rg the gospel pi-eached in it, some 
 fiye months prior to that time, when it was being erected. 
 Some short time before this one of the class leaders had 
 told her there would be a quarterly meeting oyer the riyer 
 in the month of May, not exceeding fiye or six miles dis- 
 tant. She set her heart on going ; and the day before it 
 came on worked hard all day to make a pair of pants for 
 her husband, for he had promised to go with her. But 
 behold, when the morning came, (Saturday,) some desperate 
 freak as usual, when church going was in question, or any- 
 thing else but his own lusts, took him as formerly, and he 
 forgot all his fair promises of going with her when they 
 should come to this new country. 
 
 He would not go, but, stubborn as an old mule, took his 
 gun and went to the field. Mrs. Smith was troubled, — for no 
 wife, with any sensibility whateyer, could ha ye been other- 
 wise, — but took one of his little sons and went — a son that 
 figured much afterwards towards this poor, unsuspecting 
 woman ; one, before whom had his father set a proper ex- 
 - ample, perhaps might haye made a good man, respectful 
 to his father's wife, if he had not loyed her. 
 
 The Keyerend Mr. S B S preached that 
 
 day, and, oh, how like the honey and honeycomb were the 
 precious words of Christ which he preached ! Mrs. Smith 
 was eyer, especially on these sad occasions, in an Elysium 
 . of bliss when she could hear the gospel preached. She 
 returned home, and carried the balm with her. 
 
 The next day being the Sabbath, as there was to be loye- 
 
 feast, she wished to go early. Brother S told her how 
 
 she might get there in time, saying there were so many 
 hours before nine o'clock, all of which she knew, but re- 
 plied, " When all the wheels of a wagon were clogged but 
 one, it was hard moying." And so it was, indeed. Or per- 
 
204 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEK, 
 
 haps the principal wheel being clogged, there could be 
 no steady motion. The servants and dear cook being up 
 early, as they knew their mistress wished an early start, 
 had breakfast betimes, and all things ready. 
 
 Smith did not intend to go this day, either. Oh, when a 
 man is sunk down into the mire of the world, what, but 
 Omnipotent power, can move him? And he had resisted 
 the still, small voice of God, till if it spoke to him at all he 
 heeded it not. 
 
 It was drizzling rain a little. Mrs. Smith was all ready 
 to start, and expected to go by taking some of the children 
 or servants with her. Smith said it was raining too much, 
 and persuaded her not to go. She had not yet resisted unto 
 blood, striving against sin. She had not yet come to the 
 point to go church at all hazards, even though he heated a 
 burning oven for her. So she gave in, much as she longed 
 to be at the love-feast and at " Salem's peaceful tents." 
 She sat down calm and quiet as a lamb, thinking God was 
 at home as well as at church, for she had carried a goodly 
 portion of the heavenly manna with her to her home the 
 day before. But how ardently she had desired to meet 
 with the Lord's people that day, especially as the day 
 advanced. The tents of wickedness afforded no food for 
 her mind and soul. Everything became stale, and before 
 evening came she wished that she had gone, for she would 
 then have got her spiritual tastes elevated and spiritual 
 appetite appeased. 
 
 And what a " Methodist and Christian " was Smith, that 
 he could not ride five miles to church with his wife ? See, 
 he had already " returned, as the sow to her wallowing in 
 the mire," and forgot his particular promise of attending 
 church with her constantly in this new State. This was 
 keeping his promises with a vengeance, for nothing but the 
 gross, sensual love of the world kept him away. If there 
 
AND 
 
 HUSKS OF 
 
 S WIXE. 
 
 205 
 
 had been five hundred dollars promised that day to him at 
 that meeting-house, we venture the assertion, — and think 
 the God of heaven will bear witness to its truthfulness, — 
 that all the rain that fell that day, nor five times as much, 
 would not have kept him from going to receive it. Tliis 
 reduces things to demonstration. " Where a man's treasure 
 is, there is his heart also." 
 
 We think this quite a desideratum. If a man, or any 
 individual, would go to a place under rather inconvenient 
 circumstances for the sake of gain, and at the same time 
 would not go for religious purposes, we think it without 
 doubt shows the love of the world to be in the ascendency, 
 and religious concerns to be on the wane. But now he be- 
 gan to have a jealous eye about the preachers, as he had 
 previously about Mr. Evans. Mrs. Smith had flattered 
 herself, when they Aoved out to this rough country, he 
 would lose sight of Evans, and all his unjust jealousies on 
 that subject. And that one thing reconciled her to the 
 move above every other consideration. " Let me hie away 
 to the wilderness," she said to herself, " mayhap I may have 
 peace then," never thinking or dreaming that he could 
 have the audacity and barbarity, the sacrilege, to begin on 
 the poor little pitiful preachers, as some of them were. 
 
 [N'ot a great while after this quarterly meeting had passed, 
 
 the Reverend ]Mr. S sent word that, as he expected 
 
 shortly to pass that way to another meeting of the same 
 kind he was intending to hold at the first place where Mrs. 
 Smith had attended Methodist preaching soon after her 
 arrival in the new State, he would call and tarry one night 
 with them on his way thither. Mrs. Smith was very glad 
 to hear of the coming of the man of God. And as was her 
 custom, she frequently had a general house cleaning, espe- 
 cially when she expected to have company, and above all 
 the people of God, for if there was any class of people on 
 18 
 
206 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 eartli that Mrs. Smith held in most exalted estimation, it 
 was the household of faith. The ministers of God were 
 venerated by her to the highest degree. She had had most 
 noble examples in this class of persons ; for had she not been 
 nourished and fed under the ministry of the great and good 
 Dr. L. Pierce and Bishop Andrew, who "were giants in 
 those days " ? Previous to this time she had never known 
 any who were messengers of gospel grace to sinful man to 
 disgrace the cause of God and dishonor their profession ; 
 nor had they degenerated to the veriest pigmies on the 
 earth, (as some did in this section of country, afterwards.) 
 For there was that torchlight in the ministry of gospel 
 grace in her youthful days, — the faithful and burning fire, 
 
 — young Pope, who read the word of God on his knees, 
 and was a swift seraphim in pleaching the word, and soon 
 •went home to his reward. There was the learned Adiel 
 Sherwood, the great Dr. Cummins, the good Reverend Jack 
 Lumpkins, all these had been her teachers, and now 
 must she look with indifference on any that claimed to be 
 ambassadors of Christ in behalf of poor sinning human 
 Tjeings ? Neither had they, in the good old State, become a 
 byword and a proverb throughout the length and breadth 
 of the land ; such, at least, had never come under her ob- 
 servation. She had her lines in more pleasant places, and 
 verily had a goodly heritage. For we bear her record, as 
 the Apostle says, if it had been possible, " she would have 
 plucked out her eyes for them, and received them as angels 
 
 — yea, even as Christ Jesus." And wherefore ? Because 
 she considered them as the representatives of Jesus Christ. 
 She had been, during all the morning of her days, eye-wit- 
 ness of the most noble examples to venerate; and who 
 would bring anything to the charge of this woman of God, 
 for obeying the word of the Lord in this matter? She 
 looked upon them as the vicegerents of Christ on earth. 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 207 
 
 to do His vrill, and bring glad tidings of good-will and peace 
 towards men. 
 
 Xot so with Mr. Smith ; but whether it was from the 
 loss of the love of God out of his soul, or experience and 
 knowledge of the conduct of those among whom he had 
 chosen to have his lot cast, judge ye ; for he had many a 
 tale concerning their misdemeanors to fill his wife's ears 
 with, so that he had or pretended to be awfully prejudiced 
 and poisoned against this class of mankind. So much so, 
 that .we haye heard him say he would rather a wife or 
 daughter of his should marry a negro fellow than a 
 preacher. His only surviving sister had married a preacher, 
 hence arose a great many of his prejudices, which were 
 always very strong and unreasonable, and also the warfare 
 that will follow. Wonder if Gabriel had come on the car- 
 pet as a man, and talked and looked at Mrs. Smith a little, 
 if Smith would not have got jealous ? 
 
 We are now about to commence a new phase of jealousy 
 and persecution of his innocent wife, concerning this class 
 of people, now that Evans was left behind. For Mrs. 
 Smith was a women of sense, and, although greatly influ- 
 enced by her husband, — too much, alas ! unless his influ- 
 ence had been more genial, for his influence distorted her, 
 and made her appear in many things not her own true, 
 noble self, — yet she could not on eveiy occasion despise 
 people as he did, without cause or offence. Moreover, if 
 she had cause against any one, she was sure to let him or 
 her know it, and hence could not speak against people as 
 Smith did, and never let them know her real sentiments 
 towards them. And was not the love of the world at the 
 bottom of all his hatred to the ministers of God ? Should 
 he not have discriminated between the good and the bad, 
 and have regulated his conduct accordingly ? Would not 
 any of the preachers have had subject-matter of complaint 
 
208 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 against liim equal to his against them, if they had known 
 his private character ? 
 
 On that day Smith's eldest son would be going about 
 over the yard, and among the servants, and would be say- 
 ing to all who came in his way, " God Almighty is expected 
 down to-night ! " and pass many profane and ribald jokes. 
 He even went to Mrs. Smith's sister, and said the same 
 words : " God Almighty is expected down to-night," all 
 because Mrs. Smith was having cleaning up done, — no 
 unusual thing for her to have done in that family ; for she 
 had been pursuing the plan from the second day of her 
 entrance among them : for which there was abundant need 
 — and the more so, as the children, some of them especially, 
 took great delight in carrying in two pounds of red clay, 
 if they could manage so to do ; to put their shoes, thus 
 loaded, (without scraping or pretending to wipe on a foot- 
 mat) on a set of new chairs, — nice chairs, — because they 
 thought their father purchased them at the request of his 
 present wife. How would you like that picture, young 
 ladies ? 
 
 Well, now, we will present you with another true as life, 
 for we set out, in this narration, to say as little as possible 
 of the children, — leaving that for a separate work ; for 
 the time would fail, and the volume swell into very large 
 dimensions, to tell of this jealous man, his children, and 
 negroes, all in one book. It Avould be so long and tedious, 
 one would tire of it before reaching the end. Hence we set 
 it before our readers in different dishes, all of which have 
 some variety, which is the spice of life. We deprecate mo- 
 notony on all occasions, especially in a book. 
 
 Now for a new feature in the case, as this new personage, 
 the preacher, the presiding elder of that district, came on 
 the stage. Sure enough, that evening the man of God 
 came. Mrs. Smith, in all her life, and in all the puzzles 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 209 
 
 of her life, never was so tortured. Smith sat in the front 
 of his door smoking his pipe, and did not move any more 
 than the door-sill on which he sat, with an old leghorn hat 
 on his head. Poor Mrs. Smith did not know what to do. 
 She was afraid to go out to meet the man "of God, knowing 
 the peculiarities of her dreadful husband ; and yet there he 
 was (the minister of heaven") standing at the gate. He had 
 sent word by one of the class-leaders to Smith and his wife, 
 that he was coming to tarry with them that night, and now 
 no one to invite him to alight from his carriage or welcome 
 him to the house. Mrs. Smith would look at her husband 
 and walk half-way to the gate, look back at her husband 
 again, walk a little farther, and then recede. All this time 
 he had not stirred ; he was, it seemed, chained to the sill of 
 his door, and his tongue paralyzed. 
 
 At length, however, to break the dreadful spell which 
 was becoming intolerable to Mrs. Smith, the man of God 
 asked if he could stay all night. This broke the silence 
 that was felt ; and now Mrs. Smith, being obliged to act in 
 some way, went a little nearer towards the gate, and welcomed 
 him. Smith, by this time, did make out to rise to his feet, 
 and when he arrived at the door, asked this messenger of 
 heaven to come in. Humph ! no very welcome visitor, it 
 seemed, to the old gentleman, — old by sin and worldliness, 
 for he was not yet fifty years old. But his wife could not 
 see it then, — this utter lack of politeness to the man of 
 God. She was blind, and thought it his way ; which we 
 think a poor way. Did not his sons and servants, who 
 were in the background of the picture while the scene was 
 being enacted, have eyes to see all this? Did they not 
 understand it better than she did ? And was it not favoring 
 their wicked cause ? Poor man ! 
 
 The preacher, who was one of the feeblest in body, had 
 toiled and travelled all day, without refreshment, over a 
 18* 0 
 
210 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 very hilly country, to get to this place ; and how glad was 
 Mrs. Smith to have a man of God under their roof. It did 
 not seem to her that all were wicked, as some would fain 
 represent them. Nay! she hiew they were not. He con- 
 versed with the family while supper was being got in readi- 
 ness ; and, oh, how pleasant to hear his conversation. We 
 thought him one of the most spiritual and heavenly-minded 
 men we had ever met. In the course of the conversation, 
 he turned to Mrs. Smith, and asked, " If she did not feel 
 lost in and among these hills." 
 " I do, indeed," she replied. 
 
 Mrs. Smith at this time was considered a beauty, but the 
 beauty of intellect and goodness of heart were her chief 
 beauties in the view of people who could appreciate these 
 qualities. She possessed a perfect form, almost faultless 
 features, deep hazel-colored eyes, — very expressive and 
 penetrating, large enough to be handsome, for out of them 
 the soul shone most brilliantly when lighted by any pleas- 
 urable intellectual or spiritual excitement, — soft silken 
 hair of a deep, dark, auburn color ; high intellectual brow 
 and Grecian nose ; cheeks indicating mathematical genius ; 
 skin of fair color, and rosy lips, and mouth that was both 
 decisive and yielding in its developments; intelligent 
 countenance; tall, graceful, and easy in her deportment, 
 and winning in her manners, so that one would naturally 
 think of those words of the poet, — situated as she was, — 
 
 " Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
 And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 
 
 And a gem literally buried in ocean depths, how could she 
 ever appear to the world what she really was, immersed 
 in these depths and sea-weeds ? 
 
 Heaven seemed to be on earth in the presence of the 
 man of God. The atmosphere around him being spiritual, 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 211 
 
 the imps of darkness slunk into the back-ground for the 
 present, at least. . . . Next morning, Mrs. Smith was very 
 anxious to attend this quarterly meeting whither the min- 
 ister Vv^as bound ; the more so as she had, through Smith's 
 freaks, missed the other. Smith was this time persuaded 
 to go. If he would have allowed himself to be often in the 
 company and under the influence of such servants of Christ, 
 as this man was, it would doubtless have exerted a salutary 
 influence over him, as it would, sometimes at least, have 
 kept the ministers of Satan at bay. 
 
 At the breakfast-table. Smith having got up and gone 
 out, his wife spoke a few words with the minister about 
 their spiritual condition. She told him that her heart was 
 always at the house of God on meeting occasions whether 
 she was there or not, and that love-feasts and class-meetings 
 were her delight ; and although often deterred from going 
 to church, yet she never could get used to staying away. 
 " Well," said he, " that will do, if you do not become 
 satisfied to stay away." They then exchanged a few words 
 about her husband's backwardness in attending divine ser- 
 vice, and a doubt that arose in her mind whether he was 
 a changed man or not. The preaclier replied, " If he had 
 religion, it would lead him to the people of God," which 
 indeed seems to be a rational conclusion. And we wonder 
 now that Mrs. Smith could a.sk the question, whether a 
 changed man or not, when she knew so well his private 
 acts. A changed man, indeed! If ever he had been 
 changed, he was changed back again to the beggarly ele- 
 ments of the world, for no man that was a Christian 
 could act as he did. "If any man be in Christ Jesus, he is 
 a new creature ; old things are-tlone away, behold all things 
 become new." He will walk in newness of life, and love 
 the people and house of God above his chief joy. 
 
 They all set out for church, eight miles distant, — Smith 
 
212 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 and his wife, her mother and the three little children, (her 
 eldest and the two youngest of the first wife's children,) 
 leaving her infant boy at home with the servants, — with 
 the cook, who was one of the best servants in the world, — 
 to be brought to his mother the next day, (Sabbath,) as this 
 was Saturday. Oh, this was a grand time to Mrs. Smith ! 
 She took the little ones and catechised them, prayed with 
 them, and told them she was going to dedicate them to God 
 in baptism, — the youngest daughter of the first set of : 
 children, and youngest son, and her own eldest little boy, — 
 sweet children then ! The daughter about five or seven 
 years old, her own brother a little over five, and her own 
 little boy something more than two years old, her infant 
 son about four months old. The daughter, although after- 
 wards a hardened and prejudiced sinner against this mother, 
 was deeply affected when this friend of her youth instructed 
 her, and wept much. Oh who did spoil this good work 
 commenced by this truly , heavenly - minded woman ? 
 Verily, " one sinner destroyeth much good." * 
 
 The next morning (Sabbath) the good servant, the cook, 
 — for whom Mrs. Smith always, when she could, made 
 arrangements, (as well as for all the servants as much as 
 possible) to ride to church, if it was any distance from home 
 beyond a pleasant walk, — brought the cherub boy, who 
 looked as rosy as if his mother had not been from him a 
 day and night. The little girl, when she was baptized, 
 wept much, and seemed to be concerned about herself. 
 The two little boys smiled sweetly, and the little infant boy 
 also smiled as if he was much pleased, and looked as calm and 
 happy as if he had been already in heaven. Blessed chil- 
 dren! will they ever get to heaven? Oh, if the Lord — if it 
 had pleased him to take these little ones at that time, what 
 a world of trouble, sorrow, and sin they would have escaped. 
 But stay these thoughts ! Is the arm Omnipotent shortened 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 213 
 
 tliat it cannot save them yet ? AYell did the blessed Saviour 
 say, "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid 
 them not ; for of such is the kingdom of God." Blessed 
 Saviour, thou canst say unto them yet, " Come." 
 
 Both of Mrs. Smith's little boys had the names of two 
 of the Bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church. The 
 youngest one of her own had, besides, the name of one of 
 the most eminent men of God that ever lived. The preacher, 
 when he baptized this cherub boy, said, "Lord make him as 
 those two great and good men were ; " whic we had hoped 
 from our soul would be granted, although there seems, as 
 yet, but little prospect. Yet should we despair? Is not 
 God able to make him repentant ? Shall not they that sow 
 in tears reap in joy? Is anything too hard for the Lord ? 
 That day was a high day with Mrs. Smith. She spoke in 
 love-feast. The spirit of the Lord was upon her, and she 
 seemed to be electrified by its power. 
 
 Come, Holy Spirit, refining fire, 
 
 Go through my soul ; 
 Scatter thy life through every part, 
 
 And new create the whole." 
 
 was her language. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MORE OF smith's FALSE ACCUSATIONS. 
 
 MRS. SMITH'S father and Smith both appeared to be much 
 affected, though neither of them had a word for God. 
 They then bade the man of God farewell, and returned 
 home with their little ones. O how sad to go from Salem's 
 holy quarters to the tents of wickedness, where there was 
 
214 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 nothing but sin, sinners, and sinners' ways; liars, tale- 
 bearers, backbiters, slanderers, and almost all sorts of sin 
 that could be named ; hardly the savor of one righteous 
 Lot among them, except herself and mother, who was with 
 her occasionally. True, some professed religion, but did 
 not possess it. " They had no oil in their lamps ; they had 
 gone out." They were unworthy of the Christian name, and, 
 like the foolish virgins, we fear they will beg for oil in a 
 coming day when it cannot be had, or they will be too late, 
 because the door will be shut against them. For whosoever 
 loveth and maketh a lie will most assuredly be left outside 
 with dogs, and sorcerers, and all kinds of sinners. 
 
 When they got home, the same ribaldous son began 
 throwing out unholy jests about the meeting, (for he had 
 gone too.) Mrs. Smith did now and then drop a word or 
 two to this son. Her spirit was subdued, chastened, and 
 holy ; she felt she had been with God, and did not think 
 herself in danger in saying a few words to him. 
 
 Smith, as he did sometimes after going to church, seemed 
 to be considerate and serious, and to wish to guard his wife 
 from mischief. Knowing his son's disposition better than 
 she did, for fear she might get her feelings hurt, and wish- 
 ing her not to spend breath and words on so reckless a 
 person. Smith said to her, 
 
 " Grace, remember where you have been to-day. Do not 
 spend your time uselessly talking to that boy." 
 
 Now it seems to us if the boy had been in possession of 
 any sensibility whatever, and had at all believed in his 
 father, the bare idea of his thinking him unworthy to be 
 spoken to on the subject of religion ought to have struck 
 him deeply. His heart ought to have been pierced by it. 
 But he had himself once professed religion and joined the 
 church, and now abused his profession, and of course was 
 now more callous than ever. As he could have no confi- 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 215 
 
 dence in himself, lie Had none in others. "Withal, he inher- 
 ited a large portion of his father's violent prejudices, and 
 consequently, if prejudiced against any one, was apt to allow 
 him or her no quarter at all. At this time he affected to 
 be much against his father's wife, — although a year had 
 hardly elapsed since he would fain haye married her sisier. 
 But all the spite he could pitch at the preachers, or any 
 one that he thought Mrs. Smith respected, was pastime and 
 joyous sport for him. Even this almost ethereal man of 
 God, whose yery appearance was enough to awe common 
 sinners, had no effect in deterring him from scoffing and a 
 kind of fun making, to which some resort, thinking, or pre- 
 tending to think, it makes them men. 
 
 We do not now remember much jealousy as yet from 
 Smith in this section, although he would sometimes betake 
 himself a whole day of a Sabbath and spend it with his 
 brother Jerome, — a thing he neyer did in the other State, 
 and which he did now, doubtless, to spite his wife. Tlie 
 first Sabbath he played this game was misery and woe to 
 her. She had but little earthly comfort or happiness ; and, 
 as she remained at home for his sake nearly always now, to 
 haye him take his company from her, to be depriyed a 
 whole day at a time, without cause or business, to be thus 
 supplanted by her not too loyely brother-in-law, was at first 
 seemingly a hard case ; though no one eyer heaixl her 
 utter a word on the subject. If he had commenced that 
 style, she might haye become accustomed to it ; but no, he 
 neyer could bear her away at all. 
 
 Mrs. Smith's yoimgest little boy was one of the most 
 quiet, interesting little fellows in the world. His nurse and 
 grandmother would go to his aunt's, Mrs. Jerome Smith's, 
 and spend whole days with him from his mother, although 
 at the breast, and he would neither cry nor make any ado 
 whatever. His uncle Jerome, one day, at Xapoleon Smith's, 
 
216 
 
 BREAD OP HEAVEN, 
 
 was complimenting him, in his mother's presence, as being 
 the most uncommon child he ever saw. 
 
 " Oh," said Smith's eldest son, " he will be a drunkard." 
 (For he was one himself at that time.) 
 
 Another one of them put in his spiteful gibe too, and 
 said, "He expected he would make an overseer." His 
 mother, with head all bound up, with a severe nervous head- 
 ache, replied mildly, though with honest indignation in 
 her breast towards these craven-hearted cowards who could 
 speak thus spitefully of an infant of a few months, their 
 own father's child, because they hated the mother without 
 cause : 
 
 " I expect he will be a Methodist preacher some of these 
 days." 
 
 This was their revenge on an innocent child because 
 iliey hated the mother. And, oh, that God may grant that 
 that wish of the mother's heart may yet be verified, to the 
 despite and discomfiture of all his enemies and those of his 
 mother also. What set of young men in the world, with 
 any soul at all, would have talked thus of the innocent and 
 unoffending, the babe that did not then know his right hand 
 from his left ? Surely the mad prophet Jonah could not 
 hold a candle to them ; for this infant of a few months was 
 their own half-brother, their father's youngest boy, and their 
 third or fourth cousin according to the flesh ; and God had 
 commanded them to pronounce no cursing on this child, or 
 prophesy of his future ill, as he commanded Jonah to de- 
 nounce the Ninevites. 
 
 They had not much more church going to attend that 
 year until October, when the camp-meetin'g came off; the 
 first, we suppose, that had ever been held in that portion 
 of the country since Christopher Columbus discovered this 
 continent. 
 
 The same brother, S , being presiding elder, Mrs. 
 
AND HUSKS or SWINE. 
 
 217 
 
 Smith ardently desired her husband to build a tent, and say 
 to the world, for a few days, " Stay here, while I go yonder 
 and worship." But the canker of the world was on him too 
 dee^^ly. He would not build a tent. His excuse to his 
 wife was, because the other people, or those who built tents, 
 would not consent to build the camp-ground where lie 
 wished it. Whether he informed these deluded people of 
 this or not, we know not. We say deluded, because we 
 heard, in the years that followed in this lying and believing 
 lies community, that some son of Belial had said Smith's 
 wife was the cause of his not building a tent. A more 
 palpable falsehood could not have been hatched in the pit 
 of perdition. 
 
 Mrs. Smith, however, got him off with their wagon and 
 carriage, which was, she thought, better than not going at 
 all. And here was his policy : go on Saturday and Sunday, 
 and it will not break so much time, and then the servants 
 can be at work all the week; although meeting' is within 
 five or six miles of us, and only a yearly meeting, too, and 
 not expected to trouble any of the worldly-minded folks 
 more than once a year, at all. But this matter plainly 
 showed that when Smith did not wish to do anything, like 
 all other men and women, too, he abounded in roundabout 
 excuses. It would be much more honorable to all thus 
 concerned, to honestly say, " I do not go to this meeting, 
 nor build a tent, just because I do not wish to go or build." 
 But even this piece of the meeting Mrs. Smith enjoyed, was 
 a grand festival to her. She sat near the altar, as w^as her 
 custom, while this very spiritual minister of God sowed 
 his heavenly seed. A more evangelical doctrine and ser- 
 mon was seldom heard. It fell like the dew of heaven on 
 the heart of this persecuted saint of God ; for she was passing 
 through the fires. 
 
 The poor sable African, too, the carriage driver, stood off 
 19 
 
218 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEIf, 
 
 at a respectful distance, — at the rear of the pulpit, — and 
 drank in every word. Mrs. Smith saw this and rejoiced. 
 Oh, if Smith had been truly pious, how might he not have 
 been instrumental in saving himself and his whole house ? 
 Oh, if he had been decided as Joshua was, who said, " Choose 
 you this day whom you will serve ; whether the gods which 
 your fathers served on the other side of the flood, or the 
 gods of the Amorites in whose land ye dwell ; but as for 
 me and my house, we will serve the Lord." 
 
 At meal-time, the man of God went out. to Smith's car- 
 riage to greet the family. He was sorry they were not 
 tented, but said very little on the subject. Mrs. Smith had 
 taken the children and all the servants she could with 
 them. 
 
 One of the old family servants, belonging now to Jerome 
 Smith, who had raised the Smiths, received the word of the 
 Lord graciously, which had fallen in such gentle showers. 
 On all such occasions heaven seemed to be on earth to Mrs. 
 Smith. 
 
 The next day, being the Sabbath, was another high day. 
 It was a green spot on memory's page, never to be forgotten 
 many long years after, and perhaps remembered through 
 eternity. The preacher preached a heart-searching sermon 
 that day, and sent Mrs. Smith and another lady, a sister in 
 the church, round among the ladies to make a missionary 
 collection. Here she met with hard-shelled Baptists for 
 the first time in her life, as the anti-missionary Baptists are 
 called, which were here on this occasion, — a hard set, in- 
 deed. Mrs. Smith had been reared and educated in the 
 
 most enlightened parts of the State of , and hence 
 
 the name of hard-shell had never been heard of in all that 
 enlightened region. However, they made nothing off of 
 Mrs. Smith in argument ; for, although new to her, such 
 startling, ignorant assertions as some of the weaker sort of 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWIXE. 219 
 
 the sect used were all put to silence by her off-hand, im- 
 promptu, and lightning-like style of refutation. ZS"or was 
 she proud of the necessity of thus replying. Her very soul 
 reTolted at the ignorance thus manifested, and her heart 
 grieved over the darkness, gross darkness, that shrouded 
 the minds of these imbecile creatures, who thought they 
 knew more than " seven men who could render a reason." 
 
 Notwithstanding, Sirs, Smith got up a considerable sub- 
 scri2:)tion, for she asked every gentleman who came in her 
 way, and even the poor servants gave something to this 
 good cause. She subscribed twenty dollars herself, paid 
 out of her own earnings ; she having taught school a portion 
 of that year again. The whole of it she could not pay, 
 for not a cent would her husband give her. On the con- 
 trary, he scolded her for giving so much of her own labor 
 that way, ten dollars paid in cash, vSome of the poor old 
 women in that section, when looking at the subscription 
 list, said, Oh, she don't expect to spin for it."' Xo, she 
 does not, we suppose, our dear madam ; but, if she did, we 
 suppose she would do it as cheerfully as you. 
 
 That Sabbath evening there was much feeling manifested 
 among the people. Smith's thii'd daughter went into the 
 altar for prayer, and Mrs. Smith wished to remain that 
 night on the encampment for the sake of this reckless girl, 
 for she was little else than a flirt-about. When they went 
 to the carriage to set out for home, the friends of both Mrs. 
 Smith and the daughter flocked around to beg Mrs. Smith 
 to stay. Even the preacher suggested the propriety of Mrs. 
 Smith staying on account of the daughter who was intending 
 to remain. 
 
 "So,'' said Smith. He opened the carriage-door and 
 almost pushed her in. 2s o matter how much religious feel- 
 ing there was afloat, she was afraid to do anything on her 
 part that might awaken the demon of jealousy iu Smith's 
 
220 
 
 BEEAB OF HEAVEK, 
 
 heart again, for she feared it only slumbered and slept, and 
 was waiting for some fair, pretended pretext to awaken 
 more furiously and fearfully than ever ; more so, for the 
 long resting spell. Since they had left the vicinity of Evans, 
 he had not yet fastened his mind on a successor as a victim 
 of accusation to his poor wife. 
 
 Young ladies, again we ask. How would you like such a 
 situation ? You need not say it is confined to old men, old 
 fools, thus to act. We have seen young men, young fools, 
 act just this way. We tell you just what we think. 
 There are so many nuisances in the world, and everybody 
 is against them when they know them ; but this is one that 
 is not always known, because the poor victim, the wife, 
 keeps it to herself as much as possible. O how jolly he can 
 be! He can look and send a quiver to her heart that no 
 one knows of but herself. He can say, by his infernal eye, 
 Do it if you dare ; stay, if you dare ; only go against my 
 
 wish or nod, and I '11 give you h to-night. Now this 
 
 is no overwrought picture, but a veritable fact, and we ven- 
 ture ten thousand women can bear testimony to its truth- 
 fulness. .Well, now, do you wish to know what we are 
 driving at, dear young ladies ? 
 
 It is this, — for these nuisances to poor women, if to no- 
 body else, to be taken up ; and although we are no advocates 
 for hanging, nor ever saw any one hung, yet we could almost 
 give our verdict for these wretched creatures to be hung till 
 they are almost dead, dead, dead ; because we are afraid, 
 if suffered to live, the viper will live in them again, and bite 
 not only the poor wife, but, mayhap, which is worse, 
 entail his venomous bite on his innocent offspring. Which 
 of the two evils shall we choose ? Ju-dge ye. 
 
 The next day, as soon as Smith and his wife arrived at 
 the encampment, the announcement was made to them that 
 this said daughter had professed religion. Mrs. Smith went 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 221 
 
 to her, carrying some clotlies wliicli she brought for her. 
 As soon as she saw the poor girl, she did not think there was 
 any real change in her. Of course there was not much 
 cordiality in the meeting. She embraced her ; she could 
 not well avoid doing so ; but such was the sincerity and hon- 
 esty of her nature, and especially about our holy and 
 blessed religion, when she came in contact with insincerity 
 and deception, whether wilful or ignorant deception, she 
 seemed to feel it. It would send out its own true character 
 before her -discerning eyes. She knew too much. The 
 speech the young girl made, caused her to think it not 
 suitable language for a young convert, and a true one — one 
 who had been penitent for her sins. However, she would 
 wait and see. She did wait, and all her fears w^ere too true. 
 This was not the language of Canaan. The speech has 
 gone from us, else we might recall it. 
 
 After this meeting was over, there seemed to be peace and 
 calm for awhile. Smith, after all the care Mrs. Smith took, 
 and all the sacrifices she had made, had the temerity to cast 
 up, in some reproachful manner, this man of God to her, as if 
 she loved him m'ore than himself, which must have on this 
 occasion originated in his self-depreciation ; for he could not 
 help seeing, if he had one grain of common sense, that the 
 man of God was greatly his superior. But his inferiority 
 exsisted in his own mind, in allowing himself to be narrow 
 and contracted, jealous and suspicious, without true faith in 
 heaven. How could he help feeling his inferiority ? This 
 provoked Mrs. Smith very much, as well it might, though 
 she said nothing; for till now she had never hinted his 
 jealousies to mortal being. His doings were all, as yet, 
 secret. Like getting the hunted hare at bay, and giving it 
 the wink, "]N"ever mind; you just come out of that hole, 
 and I '11 get you." 
 
 One day, shortly after this meeting and his innuendoes, 
 19* 
 
222 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 she was in a room up-stairs, where she oft resorted to get a 
 little calm, and to breathe out her soul to God. Her hus- 
 band followed her thither. He wished to be fondling and 
 caressing, which seemed so incongruous to her mind, with 
 his now begun jealousies again. 
 
 " Oh," said she, " Mr. Smith, there is so much inconsistency 
 in this course, and your repeated jealousies; my soul is 
 grieved. Do you not know there is a green canebrake be- 
 tween us? " — canebrakes are very common in new countries. 
 
 " Then," said he, " w^e will burn it up." But they are 
 not very combustible ; and we guess, if they were frequently 
 interspersed among settlements, all the incendiaries in the 
 world could not do much in lighting their infernal torches. 
 Fire-works to extinguish this subtle element would not be 
 m much requisition. 
 
 " Would that it could be, and stay burned," she replied. 
 
 " You are ill, Mr. Smith." 
 
 " Yes, my dear, I am very sick ; I think I shall die ; and 
 oh the misery there is. I see nothing but destruction be- 
 fore me." 
 
 " O my God," said she to herself ; " is this an earnest of 
 damnation to him ; and he a professor, too ? " 
 
 And in the agony of her soul she fled to the garden to 
 pray that the Lord would spare him, so that he might re- 
 pent, and not be lost; for it was one of the most awful 
 thoughts that ever came to her pious mind — that of her 
 husband dying, and sinking down to eternal destruction. 
 
 All that night she prayed, and often asked him, " Do you 
 now feel any better ? Do you see now any better prospects ? 
 Does God seem to be any more reconciled to you ? " 
 
 No, no," said he; " I still see nothing but a yawning pit 
 before me." 
 
 Alas ! O Lord, that he should have felt thus — for he was 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWI^TE. 223 
 
 not sick enougli to be delirious — and then fill up his after 
 life as he did. But although he said his mind continued in 
 the same state, the health of his body returned; he got 
 up, and went about his business, with this awful load upon- 
 
 him His. worldly gain seemed more to him than 
 
 his heavenly. What was the matter with the man? It 
 almost invariably followed, that, if he abused his wife with 
 his tongue in those accusations which we have, in part, de- 
 tailed through these pages, he would be afflicted in some 
 way or other. So much so, that he once remarked it « 
 himself, and said, — 
 
 " I never do anything to you of this kind, but what I 
 suffer for it after, either in body or mentally." 
 
 "Then," said she, "why are you not afraid to do so? 
 If I am so immaculate, that you cannot persecute me with- 
 out God avenging it, and taking up the quarrel for me, why 
 do you not desist from such a course ? " 
 
 If God says, " Speak not to Jacob — or to Grace — after 
 this fashion, and do my prophets no hurt," why, oh, why did 
 he not leave off, when he so often felt and knew that he was 
 fighting against God and his own happiness. 
 
 He made no reply to her questions ; and thus he went 
 on, not regarding her peace of mind, nor these faithful 
 • warnings. Her peace, at least, as much as he could affect 
 it — and that was great — as any man can do who has a 
 tender-hearted wife. But in her silent appeals to heaven, 
 no wonder the Lord took it up ; for it was a species of slow 
 murder, of which the world, nor kindred, nor mortal flesh 
 knew. Some people imagine because othei*s are silent under 
 sorrow, it does not affect them. All the more it does its 
 deadly work. Smith must have had small compassion in 
 his composition. Albeit, he once said to his wife he had 
 shed bushels of tears over the thoughts of her sufferings. 
 We wonder why ; and as we never saw them, we think the 
 
224 
 
 BREAD^OF HEAVEN, 
 
 bushel must have been small. David said, " Put thou my 
 tears into thy bottle ; " but we never heard of a bushel of 
 them before. He could have caused her heart to leap for 
 joy, and his own bushel of tears to have been dried, if he 
 would only have consented, and had resolution enough to 
 have been a man. But God is the helper of him or her that 
 hath no helper. Moreover, in the Rock cleft for her in her 
 Saviour's side she had an abiding place, that all the storms 
 of men, and devils, and children, and negroes could not 
 reach ; and there she found all the true peace she ever had 
 in mortal life. 
 
 Some time in November after this, it having been a full 
 month since she had been to see her sister, who lived at the 
 distance of only two miles, she took the little children and 
 went to spend the day with this sister. In the evening she 
 returned, and was sitting on the doorstep when he came 
 from the field. He did not greet her as he did when in a 
 good humor, but said, " You are always running to T. M — 's ; " 
 which was as false as it could be. She was not always going 
 there ; neither did she run, for she rode. His speech and 
 looks were so hurtful and unjust that she replied not, for it 
 sent a momentary insanity to her mind. She rose up hastily 
 from her speechless posture, ran with all her might — both 
 hands extended to heaven — towards the well in the yard, with * 
 the full intention, when she started, of casting herself into it. 
 But by the time she reached it, a sane feeling came over 
 her, and she turned aside into the garden, as she had done 
 before to pray for him ; now to pray for strength to with- 
 stand and live, notwithstanding the unjust taunts and fero- 
 cious barbarity of this brutal man. Oh, how one unjust, 
 harsh, cruel word is calculated to derange a sensitive mind. 
 And what else can we call him but a brutal man ? He 
 knew he had a tender-hearted wife, a sensitive one, if he 
 knew the meaning of the word. A wife that took pride in 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 225 
 
 doing her duty, her whole duty, and wished to be blameless, 
 as much as is possible for a mortal woman to be. A woman 
 who, he said, on one occasion, when speaking of Mrs, Mary 
 Fletcher, the wife of the great and good Fletcher of England, 
 w^as as good a woman or better than Mrs. Fletcher. And 
 yet he could thus tyrannize ! He asked her some time after 
 what made her run so ? She told him the thought that 
 came into her mind. It does seem to us — and not only 
 seems, but it is actually so — a man must be inflituated by the 
 devil, else he could not and would not pursue such an un- 
 pardonable course ; especially when he sees it so destructive 
 to the happiness of his victim. My God ! just to think of 
 such a brute of a husband ! We vow, if we had such an 
 one in this day and time, we would have a bill of divorce 
 in due time, or he should let us alone, and allow us the 
 common sense due to his negroes ; for they could go to visit 
 their sisters, if it was near enough, without his scowling 
 upon them, if they got it from their beastly husbands, who 
 were apt to be in those days like master like servant- 
 man. 
 
 We are sorry to have so much to say of man, white men, 
 who were made in the image of God. But bear with us, ye 
 good ones. Your time will come yet, when you will get all 
 the praise really good men w^ant, and the others may go 
 on serving Belial for us. We care not. Why should we ? 
 We cannot reform these bad ones. That has been tried by 
 some of the fairest and best daughters that ever sprang from 
 the second Eve, who was without fault, as it is your glory 
 to tell us of the fii'st Eve. And many of these fair creatures 
 have fallen into their graves with the story of their wrongs 
 revealed to none but God, who saw it all tlie time. We 
 do not talk of ivoman's rights, — the canting phrase with 
 tyrants, — for small rights will she have, if she have not a 
 good husband. And if she have not a good one, woe be to 
 
 P 
 
226 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 her. She had better never been born ; or, as the Turkish 
 mothers do, it had been as well in some cases, nay, better, 
 for her mother to have done as they did — kill them, than 
 to suffer the worse than ten thousand deaths that some suffer, 
 and then perhaps die without peace with God. But we 
 cannot now pursue this subject. It is horrifying. It is 
 maddening. And ye say she did it all herself. , We will see 
 about that in a coming day. God Almighty will bring up 
 all of you guilty men, as well as the guilty woman. He 
 will not be so partial as those very pious Jews were, " Mas- 
 ter, here 's a woman, etc.," — and never a word about the 
 guilty man, O ye pious rakes ! But God Almighty will 
 do as His blessed Son did. In that He gave us a blessed 
 example of what the Sod, the glorious Judge will do in that 
 day. "Ye that are without fault or sin, cast the first 
 stone." Now will not ye hang your holy heads, and sneak 
 out one by one ? Ah, no ; you will be in too tight a place 
 then. It will not be on earth, nor an earthly tribunal. 
 What if ye are then taken by the officers of justice by the 
 collar, and it be said to you, " Pay all the wrongs ye have 
 done to these your victims." But we will proceed in our 
 story of the Bread of Heaven, and Husks of Swine ; or the 
 Curse of Jealousy, or The Man Influenced by the Devil, 
 which you please. 
 
 Some time in the latter part of this same fall, or begin- 
 ning of winter, some company came home with the third 
 daughter to spend the night. Next day, the holy Sabbath 
 day, Mrs. Smith was on her feet nearly all day, to have fires 
 made and keep them up, as it was cold weather; which 
 business has ever appeared to us as more properly belonging 
 to the man, especially when he is about the house. At 
 eventide she was very much worried, and Smith began to 
 worry her more. 
 
 " Oh," said she, in reply to some of his taunts, " I do not 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 227 
 
 suit tlie family ; " for after all lier toil, slie knew slie never 
 could give satisfaction to any of tliem. 
 
 Instantly he flew into flinders, as mucli as if slie had said 
 the family did not suit her. Perhaps he knew it did not 
 suit her. She ever thought they might if they would, and 
 truly she thought she took pains enough with them all for 
 them to try, at least, to do some of their part right, if they 
 would. This they never seemed to think of, much less do, 
 else it might have been an easy work. 
 
 That year ended and another came in, and with it such 
 a flood of trouble as had never been before, thick and heavy. 
 But we shall only glance at a great deal of it, as it more 
 ^ properly belongs to another work, and run with somewhat 
 lightning speed the remainder of the way over this particular 
 part devoted to the jealous man, of his cruelties, of his say- 
 ings and taunts ; thousands and thousands of them, in which 
 our heroine was concerned in relation to her husband's con- 
 duct, are forgotten, nor can be remembered this side of 
 eternity. 
 
 In the spring of this year, Smith's eldest soir married. 
 Mrs. Smith gave birth to her eldest daughter, having now 
 three children of her own. Rivers of trouble she waded 
 through that year. But Smith pretended to, and we would 
 really believe, if we could, did in part, sympathize with his 
 wife. Her troubles coming from liis children were indi- 
 rectly, if not directly, from himself How could he sym- 
 pathize with her ? "Was he not the cause of them ? We 
 now think he connived at them, yea, we fear even encour- 
 aged them ; although he might not have thought so at the 
 time. Perhaps he could not, or iimdd not, see it in that 
 light, so blinded was he by selfishness, self-esteem, and in- 
 ordinate self-approbation, engendered and fed by the sup- 
 posed good opinion of all outsiders, who knew not the inside 
 work. But to some the words of Burns would be good here. 
 
228 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 "O would some power the gift gie us 
 To see ourselves as others see us, 
 It would from mony a blunder free us." 
 
 It was from him at last she received all her troubles ; 
 how then could he sympathize with her ? The troubler does 
 not often sympathize with the troubled one. One passage 
 of holy Writ speaks of the liar hating those who are in- 
 jured by his lies. 
 
 Another year rolled round, and passed off pretty much 
 as this had done, except some variation in his conduct 
 towards his wife for the worst. That year they had the 
 same young preacher, who came one round, and preached 
 at their house, shortly after the birth of Mrs. Smith's second 
 son. And when he left, in the end of this year, he said to 
 Mrs. Smith, who had been as a sister to him, " Let us be 
 faithful to the grace already given." 
 
 Then another year ushered in a little more auspiciously. 
 An elderly minister was sent them from Conference, one 
 with whom they were formerly acquainted, who made Smith's 
 house his' home nearly every time he came round. Mrs. 
 Smith treated him like a father. She would take her little ' 
 boys to church with her the coldest days, well wrapped up, 
 and they would sit quietly and patiently as little lambs, as 
 they seemed indeed then to be of the fold of Christ. The 
 old brother would come out after preaching, and say, " These 
 little fellows do deserve credit." And thus it was she 
 endeavored to recommend them to God's people and min- 
 isters, to procure their prayers and examples for them, and 
 to hold them up before God, begging Him, with many tears 
 and prayers, to water them with His grace. And oh, our 
 God, shall all this labor and painstaking be lost ? Some 
 of them were alienated from this faithful mother, and guide 
 of their youth. Some of them were in the ways of sin ; . 
 but, oh, is she never to have the reward of a faithful, loving 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 229 
 
 motlier iu faithful, loving, devoted children, devoted to 
 God and their mother ? Yes, thou that thunderest in the 
 heavens to-day, art able to do all things ! Yea, and thou 
 wilt do it ! though to human appearance the prospect was 
 for a long time gloomy. iS^othing is too hard for thee ; in- 
 tervening hills and obstaclesj yea, even mountains, can be 
 removed out of the way, that the faithful may have the 
 desires of their* hearts, especially w^hen these desires are 
 begotten in their hearts by the Holy Spirit. Surely the 
 Lord will answer His own self, and give answers of peace 
 yet to her longing, earnest soul. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 AN UNFORTUNATE CAMP-MEETING. 
 
 AT the request of Mrs. Smith, the first quarterly meeting 
 ever held in that neighborhood was at their meeting- 
 house. And to that meeting the presiding elder came; 
 one of the best men we ever saw, his very appearance in- 
 spired veneration and reverence. He went to Napoleon 
 Smith's, as that was the nearest place in the neighborhood 
 ^of the Methodists. He tarried all night, as did other min- 
 isters. He had preached on Saturday on eternal life. Life, 
 O eternal life, had such an electrifying influence on Mrs. 
 Smith. The truth was, she waded through so much sorrow, 
 that when she did hear the gospel, especially by one who 
 was able to dispense the Avord of life aright, giving to each 
 a portion in due season, it seemed heaven on earth. When 
 these faithful servants of the Lord were about, it seemed 
 as if the devil's spell would be broken for awhile. He 
 20 
 
230 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN. 
 
 preached on life again the next day. Mrs. Smith spoke in 
 love-feast again. The man of God administered the sacra- 
 ment, and, oh, it was a high day again. Such happiness 
 seemed too exquisite to last long on this earth. 
 
 The man of God tarried several days with Smith's family. 
 After the meeting, and in company with Smith and his 
 family, he visited Jerome Smith's family. 
 
 The same little boy, Mrs. Smith's youngest son, who was 
 now a bounding boy of three or four years of age, came in, 
 and bounded up to his mother's lap, and began talking to 
 her and the preacher. The preacher said : 
 
 " Sister Smith, he has a very fine head ; he will surely 
 make a great man if properly trained, which, no doubt, 
 you will do." 
 
 After a few days' stay among these people, the man of 
 God left, and went his way to other appointments. 
 
 The old brother H came round again, having 
 
 another quarterly meeting in view, about eighteen or twenty 
 miles distant from Smith's. Knowing Smith's tardiness to 
 attend religious meetings, and knowing also that, when he 
 did attend, he was benefited, he besought Smith to take his 
 wife and go to this meeting, which he partly promised to do. 
 But Mrs. Smith, knowing so well his uncertainty in all these 
 
 matters, said to the old brother H , " If we do not go, 
 
 tell the elder to try to see us on his return to his next 
 quarterly meeting." 
 
 The next time the old brother H came round, he 
 
 said to Mrs. Smith, — 
 
 " Sister Smith, are you going to tent on the camp-ground 
 at our next camp-meeting ? " 
 
 "Yes," said she; "if I have nothing but a bush-tent." 
 
 " That will do," said he. " I know you will do it ; and I 
 will bring my wife and daughter." 
 
 Now Smith had always been contrary about building a 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 231 
 
 tent, because the other members of the committee would not 
 build it where he wanted it. And yet some of those hollow 
 souls would tell it that Smith's wife was the cause of it. 
 " She wanted things too fine and grand." He would not 
 build one in the old State. What was the matter there ? 
 Other people were as able as Mr. Smith to " have things 
 fine and grand there." So they could have been no object 
 of envy and remark, as in this frontier place. 
 
 But now the idea possessed Mrs. Smith that she would 
 have a tent of any kind, if it was only a bush-tent. For 
 Smith had said to her he never would build one there, which 
 he never did. Here was faith on Mrs. Smith's part. She 
 trusted in God. For how could she tell, but by faith, what 
 frea^ might take Smith, and whether he would allow a ser- 
 vant to build even a bush-tent for her ? 
 
 That year things went on better, in a spiritual point of 
 view, than they ever had before, as they did the first year of 
 their marriage in provision matters. This year Mrs. Smith 
 had induced her husband to let the hands working and 
 ploughing in the field stop one hour every preaching day, 
 which was only once every two wrecks of work-days. And 
 work seemed to go on better than ever. She herself had 
 more domestic work done ; more bed-quilts made and quilted ; 
 more cloth spun and woven, and everything seemed to pros- 
 per, although sometimes he Avould still persecute her. 
 
 One day, she thought it her duty to read the word of God 
 and pray with the servants, as a good many of them by this 
 time had become professors of religion, and some of them 
 would still occasionally follow the practice of lying. She 
 got the cook to get on the dinner, and everything was so 
 arranged that they all went into one of their houses ; and 
 Mrs. Smith also went, read and prayed with and for them. 
 By the time their meeting ended, the master returned from 
 the field; and seeing the cook emerging from the house 
 
232 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 where they had gathered together, and, we suppose, guessing 
 the cause, " Where have you been all this time ? " he bawled 
 out. 
 
 His wife, meanwhile, passed on quietly down to the work- 
 house, to give some directions about some weaving she had 
 on hand. He drew near, and belched out at her. But she, 
 being full of the good Spirit, answered him not a word, but 
 smiled under her bonnet, and proceeded on to her work 
 feeling happy and joyful, as she knew she was in the dis- 
 charge of her duty. 
 
 One night she went to a prayer-meeting held at a school- 
 house not a mile distant. A Baptist minister was expected 
 to conduct the meeting. To this man, we suppose. Smith 
 had some ill-will ; on what account or for what cause we 
 never knew, unless it was because he had married his 
 brother's widow. To this meeting Smith would not go, 
 nor did he wish his wife to go. But she took some of their 
 little boys and servants, and went. When they returned, 
 lo and behold all the doors were shut and closed against 
 her and her eldest boy and his youngest boy by the first 
 wife ! And all the windows were down also. The little 
 boys went round the house again and again, calling and 
 trying to get in. But no answer to them. Now there was 
 one window which she knew had a broken pane of glass. 
 Into this she put her hand, raised the window, and got in 
 and opened the door for the little boys. What do you 
 think, dear reader, of such an example for a professed 
 Christian father to set before his poor little boys ? This 
 was the way he fulfilled his promise of going to church with 
 her every time she wished. Promises with some men, and 
 women too, are made only to be broken, or never thought 
 of again, or, if thought of, to be put aside as in noways 
 binding. The moral obligation of a promise has no weight 
 with them. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 233 
 
 When the time came round, they went to the camp-meet- 
 ing alluded to before. Smith kept his word, and never did 
 build a tent. Neither did Mrs. Smith have a bush-tent. 
 But God caused a man to move out of that neighborhood, 
 and leave his tent to Mrs. Smith. And now she begged 
 her husband to let the servants work on it and fix it up. 
 Here was faith and the fulfilment of it. Every servant 
 worked faithfully this time to get off to the camp-meeting, 
 for they knew that if their mistress had anything to eat, 
 they would be sure to get some ; aiid would also stand a 
 better chance to go to the camp-meeting than if she were 
 not there. 
 
 The master and mistress did not get off to the camp-meet- 
 ing until Saturday morning, and then she had all her ar- 
 rangements in the tent to make. But that was soon done, 
 and presently the old brother, with his wife, daughter, and 
 one son, came. The brother elder did not come until Sab- 
 bath morning about nine or ten o'clock. Many inquiries 
 were made concerning him, as his not coming excited some 
 nneasiness among the brethren, as he was expected there on 
 Friday evening. When he did arrive, Mrs. Smith was in 
 her tent and saw him, and went out to meet him and wel- 
 come him to their tent. Weary messenger of the cross of 
 Christ, he had been sick, and consequently delayed in his 
 coming. He was weary and travel-worn. Oh who that 
 knows anything about the Christian heart, and what love a 
 truly pious soul bears a truly good minister of the Lord, 
 but must know what joy it is to meet one, especially when 
 we expect to hear the word of God from his lips ? He 
 preached the eleven o'clock sermon, notwithstanding his 
 fatigue, from these words, " If ye then be risen with Christ, 
 seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth." 
 He spoke of the wicked being buried in hell and seeing the 
 righteous afar off. It was an awfully grand sermon. 
 20* 
 
234 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 About that time one of Mrs. Smith's little boys came to 
 the stand in an unbecoming plight, and, no servant being 
 near, she arose herself and took the little fellow to the tent. 
 At the dinner-table the preacher said, " Sister Smith, you 
 did not hear the sermon out." She replied that she was 
 compelled to leave on her child's account. - 
 
 After dinner there were four preachers all sitting in the 
 entry, which was very narrow. Mrs. Smith was sitting by 
 the inside door of her little room. They were all in what 
 is called the entrance hall, at home, near the door. Mrs. 
 Smith was near enough, however, to hear them talk, the 
 tent being small ; and she was listening intently to the 
 conversation of these four veterans of the Cross. It remind- 
 ed her of her former days when it was her business, on 
 sacred and holy occasions, to hear Jesus's words. And as 
 she did not have Him on earth, as Mary of old did, she 
 thought the next thing to it was to hear these heralds of 
 Jesus when she could. But this was too much enjoyment 
 to be allowed her now. The devil could not endure to see 
 it. What ! four of God's ministers on his premises ? for the 
 devil goes to camp-meetings, as well as others, for his own 
 purpose. 
 
 She saw Smith come stalking down the entrance hall ; 
 she saw him look at her and then pass on to the back part 
 of the tent to light his pipe. She followed him and 
 looked mto his face. She knew the demon was rising ; she 
 saw the venomous leer out of his eye — the green-eyed mon- 
 ster was there sure enough. He did not sit down inside 
 the tent with his brethren, as he ought to have done, but 
 took a seat on the inside of the dining-room. She herself 
 took a seat away from the vicinity of the preachers, so that 
 she might have nothing to say. This was, we think, 
 humoring the devil too much. He never could bear to be 
 petted and humored. The best way to do with him, and all 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 235 
 
 otlier cowards, (for lie is a coward,) is to show liiru a bold 
 front. Mrs. Smiili ought to have gone back and taken her 
 seat nearer the ministers of God, and talked in good earn- 
 est, for she was only a listener before Smith came in ; and 
 now to leave off listening, was granting too much to his 
 tyrannical and overbearing soul. 2\o wonder he exacted 
 more. For we venture the assertion that not one of those 
 four veterans of the Cross ^all of whom were old or middle- 
 aged men, some old enough for Mrs. Smith's father,'/ would 
 have injured Smith or his wife in anything whatever, and if 
 they thought of Mrs. Smith at all, ir was only as a very 
 good woman, one like Martha of old in caring for their 
 comfort, and like Mary in hearing their words as coming 
 from Jesus. But ,-he let his conduct mar her peace during 
 the remainder of the meeting. She thought she could not 
 feel happy under such influences,, with the green eye gazing 
 at her all the time as if she was some guilty thing. Oh 
 would that we could have been there; with our present views 
 and feelings on the subject, we think we would have stared 
 him out, and asked him what he was looking at, and if he had 
 seen and found the villain, and if he was ready to fight it out. 
 'Nine chances to one, if a brave front like this had not made 
 better times for Mrs. Smith. Some people have no business 
 with amiable dispositions ; they are imposed upon and tram- 
 pled to death. 
 
 Smith knew his wife was too pure to think of any other 
 man, even though he were a brute to her. But he felt his 
 own inferiority ; and as he had done wrong once, if not more, 
 in his life, he had no c^)nfidence in himself in that matter ; 
 could have none ; and hence, being a bad man himself, 
 though so sly about it, he had no confidence in any man. 
 And that which puzzles us was, he was- so little acquainted 
 with true womankind that he wished, or pretended, to have 
 but little confidence in them, although he frequently said 
 
236 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVElyT, 
 
 he believed his wife as pure as an angel in heaven, and that 
 there never was such a one on earth before. Too good, 
 by far, for you, Mr. Smith. A wife of a turbulent, violent 
 disposition, and one that would have stood out for herself, 
 would have suffered less in your cruel hands. Still, he had 
 as yet said nothing to her about any of these preachers. 
 One of them, the circuit preacher, the old brother, was at 
 their house every two weeks, and, to all appearances, Smith 
 treated him like a brother. 
 
 Oh, horror, for a land of Bibles ! A man to act thus in 
 the meridian light of a gospel sun, what would he not have 
 done in a dark time ? Here were four old preachers, almost 
 every one old enough for his wife's father, old soldiers of 
 the cross of Christ, who would, we suppose, as soon have 
 harmed their OAvn mother or daughters as either Smith or 
 his wife 
 
 The next day there was a general shout in all that camp. 
 Jerome Smith, better than his brother in being what he 
 was, had built himself a largeioni, and he and all his family 
 were there, five or six of whom had that day professed to 
 find the Lord. Smith and nearly all his family went to 
 his brother's tent, as also nearly all the people on the en- 
 campment. Smith went shouting and talking all the way 
 there, but Mrs. Smith could not shout; she never did. 
 Heavy was her heart. One of their most wicked servants 
 was there shouting, and hallooing, " Yonder 's my master ; 
 don't you see my master ? " The same one, by the way, who 
 had said of her mistress, when the man of God came on 
 Sabbath, " Such a running over bushes and logs she never 
 saw," because her mistress stepped over a bush or a log in 
 the way to meet the minister. All who know anything of 
 camp-grounds, remember that bushes and logs are near 
 neighbors to the tents ; and in this case especially so, there 
 having been no pains taken to clear them away, as Smith 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 237 
 
 had not allowed the serYants to go and work about, nor on 
 the tent to recover it, until Friday afternoon, when all the 
 other tent^ were moving in ; and consequently this kind of 
 timber and rubbish was almost at the door of the tent, 
 indeed was right at the cooking place, where ]Mrs. Smith 
 was standing when he arrived. Of course Mrs. Smith 
 could not feel haj^py under such circumstances. There was 
 too much deception and too much evil eye doing business. 
 Her genuine soul abhorred such worshipping God. Indeed, 
 it was not the worship of God — such mixtures of guile and 
 art, so that even the veiy servants must partake of the 
 Satanic influence that pervaded the mind of the master. 
 How could she think him sincere and honest ? It was mere 
 excitement with him, for which she knew she would stifier. 
 And it was always so, — the better the preacher, the more 
 good likely to be done, the bigger the fuss the devil was 
 sure to make ; and he would most assuredly set himself right 
 after Mrs. Smith with his sharp, hellish stick. Ah ! was it 
 because he knew he held her husband by a strong hold, and 
 was afraid these good meetings and good people miglit per- 
 adventure get him straight and right with the Lord? . . . 
 
 This was another never-to-be-forgotten camp-meeting; 
 just such, dear reader, as we are afraid you will get weaiy 
 of But stop, we are not done yet. Our story lies in and 
 about camp-meetings pretty much to the end. We told you 
 before that the devil visits these places of resort as well as 
 other people, ?*nd as well as the angels. It is written, " When 
 the sons of God presented themselves before the Lord, the 
 devil presented himself also." But ought we to call his 
 majesty devil so much? Suppose we change it, and say 
 Satan, what difierence does it make ? Well, call him what 
 you please. Devil means to pierce through and dart with 
 fiery arrows, sometimes to the quick of the soul. Satan is 
 the grand adversary of God and man. .... 
 
238 BEEAD OF HEAVEN^ 
 
 The preacher (the elder, we mean, foi there were many- 
 other preachers there,) not knowing anything of Smith's 
 disposition, accompanied the family home from the camp- 
 meeting. He had been there several times before, and 
 Smith had always treated him with respect. Nor did Mrs. 
 Smith herself yet know anything concerning this preacher 
 in Smith's mind, for Smith had not yet developed it by 
 words, nor, indeed, by looks, any more than the four in 
 company of whom he was one. She took a long walk with 
 a lady friend, after having seen everything packed to send 
 home. When she returned. Smith hurried her to get ready 
 for going home, saying the preacher and little boys were 
 already on the way. This was another one of the indefin- 
 able times to Mrs. Smith. She would have been glad if 
 the man of God had gone some other way, or that her hus- 
 band would be like a husband ought to be ; for to be for- 
 ever afraid to look or speak, for fear she was doing wrong, 
 she knew not what to do. She had gone to this meeting 
 through a great effort, and faith in God to get there. She 
 now knew there was something wrong brewing in Smith's 
 mind. She dreaded a return of his diabolic jealousies as he 
 once had of Evans. As much as she respected true gentle- 
 men, and ministers of the gospel, she would rather never 
 speak to another man, than to have what she knew to be his 
 hellish passions revived in this matter. But the preacher 
 had asked if he could get a little washing done. What 
 could she say but tell him yes ? Smith was as able, or 
 abler, as any other person in the county, and it seemed 
 right and proper that he should extend a little courtesy to 
 the servants of the Lord. Indeed, it was what he most 
 legitimately owed them, no gift at all. 
 
 They all dined. Mrs, Smith had been busy in their dining- 
 room, so that she had not seen the preacher after their ar- 
 rival till at the dinner-table. Smith took him to the fields 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 239 
 
 to see his nice cro}^, for that year the Lord had blessed them 
 with the prospect of a bountiful crop. By the third day of 
 April, when their first quarterly meeting came off, the cot- 
 ton was chopped out, so as to be seen from row to row in a 
 forty-acre field in upland ground. And, now, why should 
 not the human heart smile as well as alj nature ? Ah, no I 
 the blight and mildew of hell must be upon it. It would 
 not do ; it seemed as if the devil did not have his works 
 going on, too, to mar God's beautiful creation. He twined 
 himself round the vines and bowers of Eden. How many 
 other would-be Edens has he destroyed, if not by a bodily 
 presence, yet by his personification in dark suspicions and 
 characters made like himself, by imbibing largely of his 
 Satanic spirit. Come, oh come, that blessed time when his 
 reign shall be at an end. 
 
 Mrs. Smith busied herself about her domestic afiliirs that 
 day, so that she might say but little to the preacher — thus 
 leaving him entirely to the company of her husband and 
 their little boys. She remained in her own room and in 
 the kitchen. The clothes were attended to and sent in to 
 the preacher. That night Smith was caressingly fond of 
 his wife again. 
 
 " Oh," said she, " you have not treated me right." For 
 she had not been happy one moment since that look on Sab- 
 bath, and this was now Wednesday night after. And now 
 he was all to pieces. And whether she ought to have al- 
 luded to it or not, we do not know. We suppose a woman 
 has a right to vindicate herself even from a wicked look. 
 It is hard for a woman, or man either, to hold in forever, 
 and never say a word, under the hottest torture of jealous 
 persecution, which is the worst of persecutions. Thus she 
 had been tortured during eight years — bearing her mighty 
 burden alone. Need we wonder if her patience did not or 
 could not last always ? 
 
240 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 Next morning, while the preacher's horse was being shod, 
 (for Smith kept a blacksmith-shop, and had his blacksmiths,) 
 and his shoes having been blacked. Smith brought them in, 
 and handed them to his wife, and bid her carry them up to 
 the preacher in his room. Such an insult to a modest, vir- 
 tuous woman was intolerable. It was fiendish ; and although 
 her cheeks burned as if scorched by the flames, yet she said 
 nothing to him but to carry them himself, if he wished 
 them carried. Insatiate demon ; was he never satisfied but 
 in torturing his victim, whom he kept confined to him as 
 with the tenacity of life ? And then he went about like a 
 distracted man, as we suppose he was in part — at least by 
 sin and Satan. Yet he appeared pretty much like he did 
 when going over the encampment shouting ; and we sup- 
 pose about as religious in the one case as in the other. 
 
 As Mrs. Smith passed through the front room where the 
 preacher sat, all unconscious yet of Smith's doings, — as 
 she had to pass that way to go to the breakfast-table, — she 
 
 said to him, " Brother , can you call on the Lord in 
 
 behalf of Mr. Smith ? for he seems to think there is an 
 unthie attachment between us." The first time such a thing 
 had ever escaped her lips, though she had borne it so long. 
 The man of God was thunderstruck, as well he might be, 
 for he knew Smith had no cause for such a thought. 
 
 " Why," said he, " I would as soon have thought such a 
 tiling of an angel." 
 
 And so would Mrs. Smith have thought an angel capable 
 of such a thing as soon as this man of God. 
 
 We would not thus speak of all who bear that sacred 
 name ; for if we ever believe what we hear and read, we 
 have heard from several sources sad tales of those who 
 ought to have demeaned themselves very differently; and 
 how they have disgraced themselves, and brought reproach 
 upon that holy name by which they are called ; stabbed the 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWII^E. 
 
 241 
 
 blessed Saviour in the liouse of His professed friends, and put 
 Him to an open sliame. But this man, so far as Mrs. Smith 
 knew, was as clear of any such monstrous designs and 
 heinous offence as the angel Gabriel is before the throne 
 of God. And Smith knew all the time that he was acting 
 a lie. "Why did he not tell the man his thoughts ? Ah no ! 
 that would, perhaps, have broken the devil's spell. But to 
 speak of preachers. We need not go back in our minds to 
 Bathsheba and David, king of Israel. We have sad stories 
 of woe of this kind of a more recent date. Yea, woful to 
 tell ; some that have gone abroad in the earth even in our 
 own time, not a score of years ago. Nor can we do as a 
 great many men do, blame the woman most, as is generally 
 the case. Even the great Dr. Adam Chirk, whom we ad- 
 mire in almost everything, in one instance seems to be 
 guilty of an act of injustice to a woman, in the case of 
 David and Bathsheba. He deplores the case and fete of 
 Uriah, the. worthy, honest, poor man; pities David, and 
 thought meanly of Bathsheba for too great a display of 
 personal charms. • In the name of heaven I how any divine, 
 who is as equitable as the Doctor generally is, could put 
 such a construction on the sacred text, we cannot see. For 
 it simply states the woman was washing herself in the gar- 
 den. And how any impious king dare be immodest enough 
 to look towards a woman washing, we cannot tell, especially 
 David, the Lord's anointed. We would not have been sur- 
 prised if it had been old King Henry the Eighth, whom we 
 despise. But David had been chosen of God, from follow- 
 ing the sheepcots and taking care of the lambs in the 
 wilderness. We can account for it only in this way. He 
 had been lounging about that day instead of going out to 
 battle, and enduring hardness, as he had before he became 
 king ; and now the Tempter came, arid he seemed to find a 
 21 Q 
 
242 BREAD OF HEAVEJf, 
 
 ready, willing subject in him. He saw a woman washing, 
 and sent and took her. 
 
 Now here is a point to consider. Could Bathsheba have 
 refused to go? If she could, then we blame her; if not, the 
 whole blame rests on David's devoted head, who — although 
 now king of Israel, and the Lord had brought him through 
 so many sorrows from Saul and Saul's family, and had ex- 
 alted him above him and all his house — must now fall 
 that disgraceful fall ! tempted by the potent and awful sight 
 of a woman washing ! " O tell it not in Gath, publish it 
 not in the streets of Askelon." Wonder not if the daugh- 
 ters of the uncircumcised laugh ! O wonder of wonders to 
 us, that a man who is called a man after God's own heart 
 could ever do such a thing. And herein is where you men 
 are not to be accounted for. How glad would we be if no 
 such story was in the Bible, and still more glad that it 
 never existed ; because it is so oft resorted to by the licen- 
 tious, the libidinous and lustful as a support for their con- 
 duct. Of course, the sacred text bears no such construction. 
 But they wrest that, as they do all the other Scriptures, to 
 their condemnation, forgetting that the blessed Saviour 
 says, " Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her, 
 hath committed adultery with her already in his heart." 
 And this seems to be without her consent, too, for it does 
 not say nor intimate that the woman so sinned against even 
 knew it or was aware of the adulterous look. And this 
 David should have thought of, and turned his eyes another 
 way, or have gone on his knees in mighty prayer to God, 
 like he prayed when Saul was hunting him down ; for how 
 dare he, the holy king, the anointed of the Lord, look on 
 such a sight as a woman washing ? 
 
 Alas! alas ! well may it be said, in common phraseology, 
 poor human nature ; but we are of opinion this is not human 
 nature, but devil nature. For did he not begin tampering 
 
AXD HUSKS OF STTIXE. 
 
 243 
 
 witli the woman ? and since tliat time, is not his nature so 
 mixed up with men, -and woman too (more the pitv), that it 
 is hard to tell the true characters from the counterfeits ? 
 And herein is his grand deyice, that we may believe there 
 is none good. Alas ! alas ! what injury this falsehood has 
 done to bleeding, innoceur, suffering virtue ! For we believe 
 there are thousands and millions of our sex, good women, 
 who would never do wrong, though no eye on earth should 
 ever see them. Of this class was our heroine ; for she 
 remembered that the great eye of Jehovah was upon her. . . 
 
 The minister had said that his wife was about the size of 
 Mrs. Smith ; and whether he felt any more attachment to 
 her from that circumstance than to other sisters of the church, 
 we do not know. Of one thing we are sure ; that although 
 Mrs. Smith esteemed' him very highly as a truly apostolic 
 man of God, yet she paid him no more attention than she 
 did other preachers. But there were not such wc^en a-s 
 Mrs. Smith to be met with every day. One so kind, so 
 gentle, so modest, and so conversant with the Scriptures, so 
 ardently devoted to the Lord, with such warm affections to 
 all the people of God, could make them so welcome at her 
 house, and with such cheerfulness, alacrity, and delight 
 would wait on them, would have considered nothing a hard 
 task to perform for the dear disciples of her Lord. And 
 this Smith knew, and if others knew it too, he should not 
 have blamed them. On the contrary, he should have 
 been proud of his wife, which, in reality, he was, or pre- 
 tended to be, when in a sane state. For she had waited on 
 him and his with the same delight, gratuitously too, as much 
 in one case, or more; for in one she got the words of eter- 
 nal life preached to the comfort of her soul ; in the other, 
 she received naught but the pittance of what she ate and 
 wore, and much begrudging about that, especially among 
 his children. 
 
244 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEK, 
 
 Mrs. Smith thought perhaps the man of God wouki speak 
 to Smith about this matter ; thinking, perhaps, it might have 
 a good effect upon his imbecile mind. So little did she 
 know him yet, after having lived with him eight years in 
 the close intimacy of married life. And if he had known, 
 hypocrite that he was, that his wife, his poor victim, had 
 dared to name this subject to this man, no matter if it was 
 to have them face to face and an explanation take place, 
 it would have been curious to know what Smith would have 
 done. He might have held in while he was present, but 
 after he was gone, woe be to her. For there was a tale rife 
 among these old negroes of Smith's w^hich had some truth 
 in it ; it was this, that no matter what these Smiths did, 
 especially of that family, no matter how true the story might 
 be, woe be to you if you told it, if they ever found it out 
 that you told it. Or he might have become raging, and 
 boiling,^and so made matters ten times worse than they 
 were. This was one thing that induced Mrs. Smith to bear 
 this dread secret so long in her own bosom. She knew him 
 not, after all this time; she was indeed blind. But she 
 asked the minister, before he left, if he had named it to her 
 husband. " No," said he, " I '11 never mention it to him." 
 
 Another reason of Mrs. Smith's was that she hoped the 
 preacher never would come again, and then perhaps Smith 
 would leave off telling her of him. Vain hope ! the minister 
 never did come again. But after he left, Smith went about 
 like a crazy man. Mrs. Smith was determined, for one 
 time, she would not run after him with endearments after 
 such recent developments, and such shouting at the camp- 
 meeting. She thought and knew he might do better. 
 Just, as it were, coming, as he seemed to think himself, 
 from the very droppings of the sanctuary, where he had 
 been walking about praising God aloud, from under preach- 
 ing of this very man, whom he knew had not spoken five 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 245 
 
 words to his wife all the time at the camp-ground, nor at 
 their home, without his eye being upon them. Now he 
 would go to the field and return, and now follow her up 
 stairs, where she oft resorted for meditation and prayer, and 
 now he would look at her, and she at him ; yet not a word 
 said on either side. Once she said, mentally, "Shall I 
 speak ? " and instantly replied, " No ! I will tough him out 
 this time. He knows he is following a phantom, an imagi- 
 nation of the brain, and if his heart is in it, it is the worse 
 for him." But it was at her cost not to speak, and whether 
 she ought not to have spoken and broken the dread spell 
 that was upon him, we cannot decide. Her speaking might 
 have broken it, or it might not. And she was weary to 
 death (yes, death would have been preferable away from 
 that family) of the never-ceasing tale of vindication, to 
 which she was of course compelled to, when she spoke at all. 
 And she knew well that he knew, and believed, her inno- 
 cent ; had he not said so a thousand times ? And we doubt 
 very much, if any one had said a word against his wife, 
 whether he would not have had a fight on his hands, or 
 some heavy words. He would have talked very angrily 
 and wrathful, we suppose, judging from his temperament on 
 such matters. Then, wherefore, all this malice and vituper- 
 ation against his cherished object? A¥e cannot account 
 for it, unless the man was a fool or a madman, or both. 
 Judge ye who read. But now, while under his frenzy, he 
 would go about, and take up his little girl in his lap and 
 soliloquize to himself, and say, " O thou adulterer and 
 adulteress ! " This was a horrid word to sound in Mrs. 
 Smith's ears, but still she said nothing. She knew it did 
 not apply to her case ; and if he himself was an adulterer, 
 it was more than she knew or thought then. She did not 
 retort on him, and say, " Mr. Smith, who do you mean, or 
 to whom are you talking ? " No ; she was silent. That 
 21* 
 
246 
 
 BREAD or HEAVEIT, 
 
 well-bred and Christ-like way of not hearing evil and im- 
 pertinent and malicious remarks is ignored by the vulgar, 
 or construed into " silence gives consent," not to the holy 
 magnanimity and Christ-like, soldier-like heroism which 
 inspires it. 
 
 Now about eventide, having said nothing to his tortured 
 wife all day since the morning, nor she a word to him, he 
 took a freak to pretend to go off ; put on his overcoat, and 
 pretended to bid them all good-bye but her ; went to an old 
 negro woman, whom he had even endeavored to make his 
 wife believe was the chief one in making his children to hate 
 her. He went to the old negress, we say, and asked her 
 which of his children she had rather live with. Was not 
 that funny? Was not that noble? Was not that wise? 
 Was he not now joined with the enemy, if this old negress 
 was one ? O sin ! how beautiful you think you are, and 
 how beautifully you make your favorite votaries appear. 
 
 And then, after exciting all the household but Mrs. Smith, 
 he went off, all the way down to the gin-house, about a hun- 
 dred paces from his dwelling-house, and there stayed awhile. 
 Bravo, Mr. Smith ! Where now ? Are you bound to Cali- 
 fornia ? Why not stop and take some of your family with 
 you? Take that old negress, especially. What will become 
 of your broad acres of cotton and corn, for which you are 
 selling your soul and all your best interests ? We declare 
 you are a strange man. Ah, but we know you are not going 
 far. You are only 'possuming, thinking somebody will come 
 after you. 
 
 The family was in an uproar. They had not seen such 
 a freak as this exhibited openly since this wife's time with 
 him : he had done all his bad doings of this kind in secret. 
 
 The pert old negress alluded to above came rushing in, 
 and exclaiming, " Miss Grace, what have you done to mas- 
 ter ? " Although not a word was said about Miss Grace, in 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 247 
 
 all his distractions ; yet such were the attachraer.L^ he pre- 
 tended to this wife — and believed to be by his family of 
 most of his negroes and children — that they very naturally 
 centred on her for a cause of this precipitate pretended leav- 
 ing of them. As self-preservation is the first instinct of all 
 animals, both brute and human, they cast in their minds, 
 " What will become of me, if master goes away ? " No care 
 farther than self was concerned. And it does seem to us 
 that it would have been a justifiable act, if the old evil one 
 could have been hurled out at the door for her impertinent 
 interference. But Mrs. Smith had been so mild and gentle 
 to them, besides, they had been allowed such unbridled use 
 of the tongue, that they feared not to say anything they 
 pleased. 
 
 One of the boys, the third son, was, poor fellow, really 
 afraid his papa would go ofi" ; for he w^as too young to know 
 how he had done in his mother's lifetime, having never 
 seen anything of this kind before in Mrs. Smith's mar- 
 ried lifetime, for, as said before, she had kept all his doings 
 secret. And he. Smith, was making it public before his 
 family for the first time now. This boy said to Mrs. Smith, 
 
 " I know he always loved you so much." 
 
 And she replied to the poor fellow, " I suppose / ought to 
 know about that matter." 
 
 Mrs. Smith backed the pretended madman out this time. 
 She did not scream, nor follow^ him, nor promise any amend- 
 ment : how could she ? She had done nothing but bear his 
 abuse. She made no ado about him, had supper, and the 
 table-things all cleared away, and went in their sitting-room 
 and sat down with the little children, three of her own and 
 two youngest of the former wdfe. Poor little forlorn crea- 
 tures ! to have such a father. " Ah, but," says one of the 
 enemy, "to have such a mother." Pray, sir enemy, what 
 evil had she done? Even Pilate, (Smith himself,) if in 
 
248 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 a sane, sensible mood, would have said, " I find no fault in 
 her. Take ye her ye say, and crucify her ; for J find no 
 fault in her." 
 
 Presently our hero came sneaking back, came into the 
 house where she sat all innocently with her children, after 
 having gone no farther than the gin-house. Brave hero ! 
 almost as triumphant as when he burned the newspaper. 
 And we do declare, aside from the seriousness and pain it 
 must have cost Mrs. Smith, it is enough to make Satan 
 laugh. And we suppose he did laugh. These were just 
 such doings as he liked. We imagine he had a jolly time 
 with his compeers over this conquest of Smith. His wife 
 they could not conquer ; though they could bruise her heel 
 and heart too, sometimes. Yet she could, by her Saviour, 
 " bruise his head." But these present triumphs of Satan 
 over Smith were well calculated to do away all the good 
 resulting from a good meeting, or anything else that was 
 good. 
 
 The same old negress, who was a favorite with the master, 
 said these were no strange doings to her or any of the older 
 servants. That master could never go to a camp-meeting 
 without setting the plantation afire when he returned home. 
 That their former mistress used to say he was mad about 
 the time lost and what was eaten ; for we do not know that 
 he did or did not throw up the preachers to her. Poor, 
 foolish man. We do not suppose any of them wanted either 
 of his wives ; and it was nothing but Satan's doings that he 
 carried on so. He suffered himself to be led by him cap- 
 tive at his will. He did not resist him at all ; or, if at all, 
 it was so feeble that it amounted to no resistance. The 
 poor little children, five in number, knew nothing of all this 
 work of their papa, unless it was the oldest daughter, a 
 cunning girl to learn evil, especially from apt teachers, 
 such as our old negress. But unless she did learn or hear 
 
AXD HUSKS OF- SWINE. 
 
 249 
 
 sometliiDg from that source, this poor child, who really then 
 did appear to love her mother, knew nothing ; for Mrs. Smith, 
 for the world, would not have talked of their father to 
 these poor children. Hapless children I How will Smith 
 account in the 'day of judgment for their moral culture. 
 He cared not for it ; or at least paid no attention to it. 
 He gave them meat and bread, and took no farther pains 
 about their souls. He never prayed v>-ith them; if he 
 prayed for them, we know not. When Mrs. Smith would 
 have them together every morning, and the eldest read a 
 chapter in the Bible, and then all to kneel down and say, 
 " Our Father," etc., Smith would be in the next room. 
 And if anything came in the way ; if the hogs got into 
 the yard, through the gate be^ng left open, or in any other 
 way, he would be driving them out, while his -wife and five 
 of his children were thus engaged. This was his course. 
 Mrs. Smith not only had the five white children thus engaged, 
 but all the little darkies that stayed about the house. Each 
 one repeated the Lord's prayer after her till it was learned 
 by all. And in the evening each one was taught to say 
 that almost universal evening prayer taught by mothers . 
 to their children, " I^^"ow I lay me down to sleep," etc. 
 
 CHAPTEPv Xin. 
 
 ME. SMITH AXD THE PEEACHEE. 
 
 MRS. SMITH feared now that Smith had, in common 
 parlance, let the cat out among some of the negroes 
 at least ; nay, all, for such a tit-bit as that could not fail to 
 be repeated to every one on the plantation by the old 
 
250 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 negress, if no one else. And also some of the older children 
 knew it. We heard, years after, that that same boy, after 
 he was a man, when under some peculiar circumstances 
 he might have done Mrs. Smith some good by being 
 just, very injuriously said that his Pa w6nt off and left 
 her at one time. Bravo, young Mr. Smith ! God help you : 
 you are almost as brave as your father. Did you not tell 
 her then he loved her very much ? And did she not tell 
 you she ought to be a judge of that matter? And if her 
 judgment is, that neither of you knew, towards her, what 
 love means, would she not be right ? Poor fellow ! we are 
 sorry for you, that you should let ignorance, prejudice, envy, 
 and malice so sway your mind that you could not do what 
 you knew to be justice to this woman. Heaven help you ; 
 for you have yet to give an account of these words. As it 
 happened to be one who was disposed to be friendly to Mrs. 
 Smith, it did not injure her with that one. But how many 
 have been prejudiced by you against her in the same way, 
 who knew her not, judge ye? Look into it, for you will be 
 compelled to face it when the books are opened and all flesh 
 shall stand before God. 
 
 Then there were grounds for fears of wrong versions get- 
 ting afloat in the world; still, all-conscious Truth, she would 
 think, how could it be otherwise than that her side and 
 cause should be vindicated, because it was the right side. 
 Poor woman ! how little did she know of the world, or the 
 people in it. Married very young, all she knew of the 
 world, or the evil of it, aside from her father's inebriation, 
 and trouble consequent from that circumstance, was con- 
 fined to Smith's family. True, she would open her eyes 
 sometimes in bewildered amazement at some monstrous de- 
 velopment of sin from some young sinner of the family, not 
 over fourteen years old, who it would seem to her ought 
 to be a hundred years old to show, such a growth in sin, — 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 251 
 
 not taking into con.?ii:leration the apt teaching of the darkies, 
 the prolific soil, and nothing of a moral nature to check it. 
 ZS'ot even the Bible read, so as to learn duty on all such 
 occasions as that of speaking of another, or trying to injure 
 one in his absence. But she did not think the whole world 
 like Smith's family. Piry that it should have been. Xor 
 wa.s she conscious of half the evil going on around, and in 
 the neighborhood. X or do we know whether her course 
 of conduct was ever righted with the vicious in that section. 
 Sometimes we have thought it might never be adjusted un- 
 til the day of judgment. AVe have often thought of that 
 Scripture, in reference to this case : Shall bring forth thy 
 righteousness as the light, and thy judgment as the noon- 
 day." Surely, God's word cannot tail ; let God be true, and 
 every man a liar. Surely, He will bring it forth in His own 
 good time, which will be due time. The ways of the Lord 
 are past finding out, and His judgment and counsels un- 
 searchable. 
 
 The more the true Christian sufiers, the brighter he shines 
 and the happier he is, because grace is ever given to the 
 true child of God proportionate to the weights and burdens 
 he carries. And we would not this day exchange the con- 
 dition of that persecuted woman of God for all those pleas- 
 ure seekers and pleasure-loving and ease-loving daughters 
 of Zion — nominally daughters who go about rolling in their 
 ease and all the splendor that their money can procure 
 them. "What good do they ? Almost a pertect nuisance 
 in the church of the Lord. Some of them, when they do 
 perform a good act, or give a few dollars, seem to think it 
 ought to stretch through all time, and exonerate them for- 
 ever from farther effort or sacrifice in the cause of Christ. 
 Sacrifice, indeed ! when did they ever deny themselves one 
 groat's worth of comfort for the cause of Christ? Why, 
 they almost think in their hearts that the Almighty is com- 
 
252 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 plimented by their munificence ; not considering that all 
 they have, yea, the very breath in their nostrils, God has 
 given them, or rather lent them. The Almighty lend to 
 them ? Why, what a wide mistake they make we think. It 
 is their own industry, perseverance, and economy that have 
 procured all these things for them. " Is not this great 
 Babylon which I have builded," the language of some ; even 
 forgetting that some of them have what they possess by in- 
 heritance, and never worked a day for anything in all 
 their lives ; but they have saved it, and added to it. They 
 have lived on the income, which perhaps is pretty large, 
 and, absorbing it all to themselves, have had ample for all 
 their wants and wishes ; and have in many ten thousand 
 instances forgotten the poor, who labor hard for their daily 
 bread ; and do not know, neither consider, nor care to think 
 how a little, just a little, of their abundance would help to 
 ease the burden of life with these honest, laboring poor, 
 whom the Lord loves, and has left here for the purpose of 
 trying their virtues. " The poor ye have always with you," 
 said our Saviour, " but me ye have not always." Some will 
 go so far as to say, that if they (the poor) would labor aright, 
 they would not be so poor. Now this seems to be in direct 
 contradiction to the word of God, who, it seems, has left, by 
 His providence, some of His best people on earth poor. 
 Yea, some whom heaven itself derides riot in luxury and 
 pride, while some of God's dearest children are bathed in 
 tears. He having provided some better inheritance for 
 them ; that is, an heavenly one, and an enduring one. 
 For rarely do we see many rich who are not seared, or more 
 or less afiected contrary to gospel teachings on the subject. 
 
 And we do boldly affirm, without fear of contradiction, 
 that it is one of the rarest things our eyes have yet beheld, 
 to see one who has everything about him superabundantly, 
 who has a tender heart towards the poor ; who does not 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 253 
 
 pique himself more or less on account of it, and look down 
 ■Nvith contempt upon those who have not these advantages. 
 Let the poor be ever so good, it is all the same with the 
 purse-proud. He will say that they should have done bet- 
 ter, and then they woukl have had more of this world's 
 goods ; forgetting that their quarrel is with their Maker, 
 ^vho can prosper whom He will, and can turn things to their 
 advantage as easy as He can turn the rivers of water, yea, 
 and does it, we suppose, where He sees it best for the salva- 
 tion of the soul; but otherwise withholds it, because the soul 
 is of infinite more value than all on earth besides. But woe 
 unto many daughters in our land who are at ease in Zion. 
 They have forgotten the word that speaketh thus : " Inasmuch 
 as ye did it not to one of the lead of these, ye did it not 
 to me. And these shall go away into everlasting punish- 
 ment ; but the righteous into life eternal.'^ 
 
 But why waste pen, ink, paper, and time on this subject? 
 Some, we fear, will never mend on this duty, until they hear 
 the awful words, " Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting woe, 
 prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was an hun- 
 gered, and ye fed me not," etc. For these, we must remem- 
 ber, were professors of religion as well as others ; but only 
 half of them did good, the half that had oil in their lamps. 
 And the others (foolish ones) are not charged with wicked- 
 ness and crime, as we denominate them, but with neglect of 
 God's people — His poor, of course, as the rich people do not 
 often meet with neglect. But His poor, who, as it were, 
 stink in the nostrils of those aristocratic, purse-proud Chris- 
 tians. Some of them forget the hole .of the ])it of poverty 
 from whence they were digged ; and as soon as they reach 
 the mount of comparative wealth look down upon all below 
 them, and seem to have begotten a kind of holy scorn for their 
 still struggling fellow-creatures. Very different is the truly 
 well-bred Christian man or woman. Always in affluence, 
 . 22 
 
254 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 always blessed with the bounties of heaven and the smiles 
 of a good Providence, their hearts, if properly exercised 
 by the love of God, run out to all their fellow-creatures, 
 and both hands and hearts are open to dispense the bless- 
 ings of the Lord. But the others are far otherwise. They 
 seem to have no bowels of compassion, and say, " Go thy 
 way; take care of thyself; we desire not the knowledge of 
 your ways." O ye Mammon-loving, God-forgetting daughters 
 of Zion. What will ye do when God shall call you to give 
 an account of your stewardship? Ye have not made to 
 yourselves friends of the Mammon of unrighteousness. 
 How can ye be received into everlasting habitations ? 
 
 Now after Smith came back from his runaway trip, it was 
 of course known among the negroes. It reached Jerome 
 Smith's ears, and Mrs. Smith's sister heard it. The oldest 
 and best servant-woman, who belonged to Jerome and was 
 a doctress in the families, had been on a tour in the neigh- 
 borhood. On returning, she called at Napoleon Smith's 
 house, and said to Mrs. Smith, — 
 
 " Do, pray. Miss Grace, do not think of it. Massa Napo- 
 leon ought not to act so ; for he no more believes such a 
 thing than I do." 
 
 And this poor, honest servant, although she had raised 
 these Smiths, thought there never were two such women on 
 earth as Napoleon and Jerome Smith's wives. And we 
 know she really did love them more than she did her young 
 masters. 
 
 Mrs. Smith's sky was overcast again. Her cheerfulness, 
 her vivacity, and life seemed to be gone. She thought she 
 saw another flood before her very, very weary spirit. And 
 how to stem it she knew not. The year now began to wane 
 and draw to a close^ The old preacher spoken of came by 
 on his way home. Mrs. Smith asked him if he thought he 
 saw anything amiss in her at the camp-meeting towards the 
 elder in question ? 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 255 
 
 "Xo," he replied ; "nor did I ever hear any one hint such 
 a thing. Who said so ? asked he. 
 ''Mr. Smith,'" she replied. 
 
 The good man ^Yas astonished beyond measure. And well 
 he might be. This horrible thought had entered no busy, 
 prying brains but Smith's. And why Mrs. Smith should have 
 let the thing prey upon her mind from August to yovember 
 we cannot tell, unless we had been in her place, and heard 
 his name rung out to her in a most tantalizing manner, as 
 Smith could do, '•'Send for liira," with the grimace of hell 
 in his face. Because, in the spring of the year, when he 
 had been among them once or twice, at their several meet- 
 ings, and ]\Irs. Smith had said to this old brother, as related 
 in this work, " If we do not go to that meeting, Brother 
 
 H tell the elder to call by and see us on his route to 
 
 his next appointment.''' 
 
 The old brother H left next morning and went into 
 
 an adjoining county and State, among some of Mrs. Smith's 
 relations on her mothers side ; and he, with them, was talk- 
 ing over these things. 
 
 " Well," exclaimed he, "I have been much about Xapo- 
 leon Smith's family in both States, and during the time of 
 both his wives, and he never did make his children and 
 negroes mind him; and as to his present wife, she treated 
 me as if I had been her own father." 
 
 18 — ushered in a new year, one most fatal to ]SIrs. Smith. 
 Volcanoes cannot forever blow and tume without bursting 
 and overflowing. She had no peace long at a time ever 
 afterwards. 
 
 It happened that there was a contest among the candi- 
 dates of the annual Conference for the preachership of that 
 circuit. We make such frequent reference to preachers and 
 circuits because they are so connected with this story that- 
 to leave out one we must necessaiily leave out the other. 
 
256 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 One of the aspirants for the (to them) enviable office 
 was an old local preacher residing within the bounds of 
 that circuit, and the other was a younger man, a mere li- 
 centiate, who never had the appointment of a circuit before, 
 and who was, in fact, a mere jackanapes of a preacher, who 
 reminded us of the messenger that begged to go to carry 
 news of a very important victory achieved in battle, but 
 behold, when he came, he had no tidings. The younger 
 preacher was the successful aspirant. This threw the old 
 preacher into a diabolic fit of spleen or malice. The same 
 elder was sent to that district again that year. Now our 
 old brother preacher concluded that the elder had done the 
 whole business in sending this junior to that circuit in 
 preference to his reverent self He had forgotten his vows 
 of allegiance and o\)edience under which he had mustered his 
 reverent self, and very naturally (not graciously) levelled 
 his charges against this devoted elder. 
 
 Now, we think a very different course would have become 
 this old local brother ; and we think, if we had been in his 
 place, we would have called patience and fortitude into 
 requisition, tried a little Christian grace, meekness, and 
 submission, and at least said but little about our mortification 
 and chagrin, and very little about our more fortunate rival. 
 But not so with our reverend, great, divine local preacher. His 
 disappointment and vexation were so great that he could 
 not or would not hold in, but vented all kinds of spleen 
 against his successful brother preacher. He would come 
 to Smith's and sit up till two o'clock in the morning, talk- 
 ing with Smith in his and Mrs. Smith's room, to her great 
 annoyance ; for just such as he could wind his way around 
 Smith. He wanted a little corn out of Brother Smith's 
 crib ; and as he knew from some source or other, perhaps 
 from Smith himself, that he did not like the elder in ques- 
 tion, he would cease to blame the Conference as much as he 
 
AND 
 
 HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 257 
 
 did at first, together with the other preacher, and throw his 
 whole force of argument, in Smith's presence, against this 
 elder. To the discij^line of the Methodist Episcopal Church 
 we refer our readers, to know the truth of the appointment 
 of preachers, and what part the -elders of their respective 
 districts have in the matter. 
 
 One night especially he sat up very late, talking after 
 this fashion. Mrs. Smith was compelled to sit up too, as it 
 was in her bedroom they held their holy confab ; for Smith, 
 when it served his purpose or v^'him, could have some of 
 these old fellows in her room seemingly very agreeably to 
 himself, no matter whether she was cheerful about it or not ; 
 he did not ask her. Y\"hat would one think of such a man 
 being jealous of the preachers ? Ah I it was not these old 
 ugly fellows Smith was so much afraid of ; it was such as 
 preached the word with power, and with the Holy Ghost 
 coming down upon the people, such as had a more pleasing 
 address, more intelligence, better educated, and such as 
 thought it beneath their holy profession to speak of absent 
 brethren, and defame. These were the ones that Smith 
 despised, because he thought they were more agreeable to 
 his wife. 
 
 But that night this old preacher went on relating tale 
 after tale, and talking depreciatingly of his absent brother 
 preachers. Although he told a dream he had on a certain 
 night that the Saviour told him that at the judgment-day 
 he had to be damned, and this he said he dreamed three 
 times in succession in one night, after which, he said, he 
 slept no more that night. He said he told the Saviour, 
 " Xo, he would not be damned." "Yes, but," the Saviour 
 said, " you must ; and it is not for breaking my command- 
 ments, but for not preaching my word aright." "Take 
 care, old man," thought Mrs! Smith, " how you act, lest 
 that dream come to pass while you and Smith are indulg- 
 22* R 
 
258 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 ing in a dish of holy slander and uncharitable talk about 
 your brethren," for uncharitable conversation is not only 
 unraethodistical, but altogether unchristian. 
 
 Not very long after this, he came to get some corn of 
 Brother Smith. Now Smith was none of the giving sort ; 
 ^ but as the old man had no money to pay for it, Mrs. Smith 
 had said to her husband, "If I were you, Mr. Smith, I 
 would give him two or three barrels of corn." For, aside 
 from his egotism and talk about his brethren behind their 
 backs, Mrs. Smith liked him as well as any of the brethren, 
 and really felt a sisterly love towards him. She had heard 
 him preach some few sermons, and felt the Spirit of the 
 Lord attending her under them. He was a perfect gladiator 
 in controversy ; but these were not the sermons she liked 
 most of his preaching. It was when they were fullest of 
 love and joy, and good tidings to all people. But now he 
 was down upon his rival brother preacher's bones again, 
 telling Smith great tales about his reproving kis son for 
 laughing and misbehaving in church ; and he knew if his 
 son got hold of the preacher, there would be " bad times." 
 
 Mrs. Smith could endure no more. She never could 
 hear one person speak of another absent one without vindi- 
 cating, if she could, the absent. 
 
 " Brother ," said she to the old man, " I do not be- 
 lieve the preacher reproved your son without cause, or he 
 thought, at least, he had a cause to do so. Your strifes and 
 contentions about the preacher, which you have not been 
 prudent enough, perhaps, to conceal from him, are enough 
 to engender contempt for him, and thus, perhaps, he set at 
 naught this man, and forgot himself in the church. I do 
 not know that this was the case, but there is a possibility 
 that it might be so. How careful should we be how we 
 speak of others before our children." 
 
 This kind of heroic speaking for the truth and right put 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWJXE. 
 
 259 
 
 a stop to it for the time, and she tlien fully resolved that 
 no other preacher, or any one else, should speak against the 
 
 absent in her presence ^viihout being faithiully told of it 
 hy her. 
 
 One of these old croakers said tliar the great and good 
 Dr. Levick Pierce '^vas ruined by pride. They were in the 
 hall with Smith again, speaking these words; she was in her 
 room, in full hearing, reposing on a low couch, for that day 
 she had been so indisposed she had not attended their little 
 log church close by, neither had been at the dinner-table 
 with these poor, weak, jealotis, envious brethren. But 
 when she heard that word, Dr. Pi-:-rce ruined by pride,'^ 
 she rose hastily up, and repeated, " Dr. Pierce ruined by 
 pride ? Xo, sir, you are mistaken. AV- .uld to heaven all min- 
 isters were ruined by pride as Dr. Pierce is. I Lave known 
 him from my youth up, and a more humble man I never 
 knew." 
 
 These words came like a bomb-shell among the conclave 
 of slander-mongers, and no more did we hear of it. But 
 did they not grind their teeth for revenge ? We guess one 
 did, and that was Smith. Xever mind, he will pay her for 
 that some of these days. 
 
 Well, if there had been blows threatened then, Mrs. 
 Smith could not have held her tongue. That was one and 
 the same as if they had spoken against her dear mother or 
 one of her sisters, whom she loved so dearly and devotedly. 
 And no minister on this broad earth was ever held in such 
 holy veneration as this man of God ^vas by Mrs. Smith. 
 
 But this year was an inauspicious one in every way. 
 Evil seemed to be afloat on every hand. Jerome Smith 
 made a trip to the adjoining State in company with his 
 eldest son, who always reminded us of the vScriptures which 
 say, " The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperate- 
 ly wicked ; who can know it ? When he returned, he 
 
260 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEIT, 
 
 disgorged himself of tlie offensive stuff given to him by his 
 son on his innocent wife and her relations again, chiefly 
 her mother, who never had an enemy in her life that we 
 know of, unless they were now such. It seems, however, 
 that he had been telling tales to his father about his wife's 
 mother with regard to his younger children. So he com- 
 menced on her to his wife, cursing and abusing her, and 
 saying if she came there again he would throw her over the 
 fence and break her back. Thi^'{)oor innocent old lady was 
 then at a distant town, having gone with her husband there 
 to stay some time. Jerome cursed them all, calling them 
 damned apostates. Heigh-ho, Mr. Smith ! at it again ? 
 What does that mean ? Apostate ; what is it ? Why, we 
 believe you are one yourself, as you are the chief among 
 all the rest who left your religion, if you had any, on the 
 other side the river, when you crossed to come to this State. 
 Now these poor sheep, except the father of these two dear 
 young women who married you and your brother Napo- 
 leon, have endeavored to keep their faith, notwithstanding 
 all the persecution gotten up by you and your brother. 
 So the epithet apostate seems to suit you and him better 
 than any other. Apostatized, indeed ! who had anything to 
 apostatize from ? 
 
 Mrs. Napoleon Smith heard this dreadful news very 
 soon, for her dear sister wrote it in a letter, and sent it by the 
 same good old family servant spoken of before. Her letter 
 commenced very emphatic, saying, " Oh, that I were now in 
 my grave ! " Poor Mrs. N. Smith thought this was not bearing 
 her troubles as well as she had done, for she had ever as 
 much as possible kept her troubles within her own breast. 
 However, she thought it was high time for her to resent 
 some things, and some of Jerome Smith's doings ; and so 
 she resolved, not by talking, either, but by silence. So the 
 next time she saw Jerome Smith, she did not look at him 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 261 
 
 nor towards him. Whether this course was best or not, we 
 cannot, at this late day, pretend to decide. Certainly she 
 had a right to refrain from speech to those who had outraged 
 every feeling of humanity and brutally cursed her mother, 
 if she chose to do so. Speech had done no good ; she would 
 try what virtue there was in silence. And although they 
 were often backbiting, they dared not say much to Mrs. 
 Smith's face, because she attacked none of them, asked them 
 no questions, and gave no answers ; yet when anything, in 
 her estimation, got beyond endurance, she would show it by 
 silence. And although they pretended to despise her ; yet 
 it would make them *mad almost enough to kill her when 
 thus treated with silence by her. Strange inconsistency; 
 if they cared for her no more than they pretended, why care 
 for her speaking or not speaking ? Everything seemed to 
 be tending to a crisis now ; the devil was impatient to have 
 a scene. Mrs. Smith's patience was severely and often put 
 to the utmost test. And their malice was waxing and boil- 
 ing hot, hotter, and hottest. 
 
 Jerome Smith was hauling some wheat to his brother's to 
 be threshed. There was a two days' meeting at that time 
 at their log-cabin church. Not a quarterly meeting at 
 which the elders attend. The one in question never did 
 come again into that settlement. The swine4overs had, if 
 not verbally, mentally prayed him to depart out of their 
 coasts. They loved their hogs, their corn, wheat, and cotton, 
 anything of this world, better than a Christlike man, who 
 would tell them of the way of life, and cast out devils by 
 the preaching of the gospel. 
 
 Mrs. Smith attended church that day in company with 
 her little children. Smith did not attend on that day. The 
 old talking brother local preacher went home with Mrs. Smith 
 and the children to dinner. Now, after dinner. Smith and 
 the old man repaired to the sitting-room, to have another 
 
262 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 dish of scandal over their brother preacher again. Mrs. 
 Smith did not know that the elder had been in discussion 
 by them ; but we suppose he had by what followed after. 
 When she went in, they had the same circuit preacher on 
 the carpet again about his reproving his son. That seemed 
 to be a great thorn in his flesh — that his son should have 
 been reproved by one he so cordially hated. Mrs. Smith 
 again told the old gentleman that she surely thought that 
 the brother in question thought his son misbehaved, else he 
 would not have reproved him. There was nothing said in 
 reply by either of them. 
 
 J erome Smith coming at that instant with a load of wheat, 
 Napoleon Smith said to the old preacher, " Sit here, and 
 talk with Grace, while I go to the gin-house," not choosing 
 to be jealous when it suited his purpose not to be. Now 
 what Jerome and he talked of at the gin-house, perhaps, 
 never will be known till the day of judgment ; but it was 
 thought that they had some mischievous conversation. 
 When Jerome returned on his way, he called to the old 
 preacher to go home with him ; and he was so delighted be- 
 cause he showed such attention to him, that he hardly knew 
 what to do with himself. 
 
 " Well," said he, " I must go with him. I used to know 
 Jerome, and he is a good fellow." Although Jerome, at 
 that time, cared no more for him than he did for any other 
 old Methodist dog, as he seemed now to consider all as such 
 pretty much. 
 
 Mrs. Smith had waited supper for her husband, and while 
 waiting had walked out into her garden. This was the last 
 time she ever beheld those beautiful flowers in that garden 
 without feelings such as she never experienced before. 
 
 Smith came into the dining-room, sat down, and com- 
 menced eating. His wife came in and sat down beside him. 
 He said to her, " I do not feel right without you at the table." 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 263 
 
 " Oh," said slie, " you do not care for me." In the right 
 way, she meant ; for had he not been talking mischievously 
 of her just a moment ago at the giri-house with his brother? 
 
 That night Mrs. Smith was very weary and fatigued, and 
 quite unwell, having considerable pain in consequence of her 
 situation. She had become mceinte of her second daughter, 
 but was unconscious of the fact, but now began to suspect 
 such a thing from her peculiar sensations ; for only the day 
 before, Mrs. Jerome Smith, her sister, being to see her, she 
 was scarcely able to be up all the day, although she attended 
 to her domestic duty of house-cleaning, etc. And now, hav- 
 ing gone to church, and been up all the day long in the 
 summer, in her situation it is no wonder that she felt ex- 
 haustion. 
 
 Smith began in his usual way of being overly fond and 
 caressing, and l3ecause she was not as lively, nor as able, nor 
 willing under the circumstances as he wished, — as if a wife 
 had no rights, but is only man's slave, made to be the in- 
 strument of his pleasure or take his abuse, as she pleased, 
 — he flew into a violent passion, and said, " You insulted old 
 man , to-day." 
 
 This was strange to her, for she knew not that there was 
 any offence taken. She knew there appeared to be none 
 towards her by the old man ; and this was what he and his 
 dear brother Jerome were talking about at the gin-house. 
 For Napoleon Smith had not been with the old man after 
 that, because he went home with Jerome. This was his 
 kind of love, you see. , She replied, — 
 
 "I am not afraid to speak to any person, Mr. Smith, 
 about the heinous offence of evil-speaking or backbiting." 
 
 " You are not ashamed," said he, in the most insulting, 
 damnable way a wicked, lying man or demon could ever 
 frame -his unruly member tlie tongue to say, and jumped 
 up out of the bed. She got up too, went to the door, as was 
 
264 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 her habit to do on such occasions, and looked out upon the 
 stars of heaven, having put on her clothes, and sat on the 
 door-sill, gazing up into the heavens as far as the naked 
 eye could penetrate. He went back to bed, and so did she, 
 and put her hand gently on his face, and said, — 
 
 " Mr. Smith, you deserve to be slapped for talking so to 
 me. What have I done that you should be eternally — 
 every time anything goes a little adverse to your wishes or 
 passions, whether they are just or not — throwing up that 
 elder to me as you formerly did Evans ? for you know we 
 are all innocent ; you know it as well as you know you are 
 a man." 
 
 He replied not, but tried to get her to yield to his caresses 
 again. The thing was impossible without force ; who could 
 feel any conjugal affection, and give conjugal embraces, 
 under such circumstances ? v/ho, but a very demon, would 
 have expected it ? Could any refined woman under heaven 
 have felt a disposition for connubial love under such a blast 
 from perdition ? We think not ; and for our part we could 
 or would as soon hug a grizzly bear or the deadly serpent ; 
 one is no worse than the other in the fatal results, unless it 
 be that the human bear or serpent is the worst. You think 
 this is strong language ; you will see the truth of it by and 
 by. And now she thought within herself, " It is my priv- 
 ilege not to murder myself for him every time, no matter 
 what is my situation or condition. I cannot, under the 
 present course of conduct, while he is so continually lyingly 
 accusing me of others, I cannot yield to him forever at 
 all times, no matter what pains or aches I may have, with- 
 out doing violence to my nature, as well as great injury to 
 my weak body. I cannot, I will not this time, and he never 
 amending his ways towards me." 
 
 Mount Etna and Vesuvius, what are thy fires to his 
 •wrath ? He flew out of the bed again like a mad maniac 
 
AKD HUSKS OF SWIKE. 
 
 265 
 
 wlio liad no eartbly control over himself, and said, " If that 
 rascal ever comes here again, I '11 shoot him down." This he 
 had said many times before. 
 
 She replied, " I do not suppose he will ever come here 
 again, sir ; that is the reason I told him what you pretend 
 to think of me and him, so that he might never trouble you 
 again w4th his presence." And now his rage was rampant 
 and wild ; he knew no bounds. He never knew till this 
 moment that she had told of his accursed jealousy which 
 he was following up so persistently ; for it had been a full 
 year now since the running away scrape of going all the way 
 down to the gin-house took place, and he, because she had 
 kept all these things within her own breast, thought she 
 would do it forever. He boiled ; he could hold in no longer. 
 She had not put on her clothes as before ; she sat down 
 before the hearth, on which there was a light burning. He 
 sat there too, smoking his pipe and abusing her all the time, 
 and said, " You sent for him," alluding to the time before 
 spoken of, the year before. This he had been ringing in her 
 ears all this time ; whenever he got angry, and wanted to 
 wound her, he would say, " You sent for him." This was 
 the way to make love, was it not ? Young ladies, how would 
 you like the process practised on yourselves. Look at this 
 poor creature sitting there now under the peltings of his 
 abusive tongue ! a very martyr. Was not this a fix for a 
 tender-hearted, sensitive, nice. Christian woman to be in ? 
 And bearing it with patience, fortitude, silence, meekness, 
 seemed only to make the tyrant gather more strength with 
 which to torture his victim. 
 
 She replied, "Mr. Smith, I did not send for him in the 
 
 way you speak of, but simply said to old Brother H to 
 
 tell him to call and see us on his way to his next appoint- 
 ment, which you heard me say. I did not say it secretly ; 
 and since that you have wrested my words, as the Jews did 
 23 
 
266 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 our Saviour's to their own condemnation, fifty times, I sup- 
 pose, or more." Our blessed Saviour said, (alluding to His 
 body,) " Destroy this temple, and in three days I will build 
 it again." They applied it to the temple at Jerusalem, and 
 made Him out a blasphemer and a liar, when they under- 
 stood not His words, or pretended not to understand. " You 
 understood me well. You know that I did not say those 
 words in the sense that you, in your boiling, heated passions, 
 inflamed by the devil and sin and the most ungovernable 
 lust — legalized lust, you think — pretend to think, and attach 
 a meaning to them as far from the truth as heaven is from j 
 perdition. You had treated the man politely, and even 
 brotherly, many thought, and he had no thought of this viper 
 of suspicion lurking in your bosom until the day I told him 
 of it, which has been a year ago ; and it was long before that 
 
 that I said the word to old Brother H , just as I would 
 
 have done to any other minister of the gospel. He had a 
 long, rough ride before him, and why not stop at your house 
 and rest as well as at any other Methodist's house in the 
 way ? You claim to be a Methodist, though you do not 
 care to join the church since you left the old State. So 
 you are very much mistaken, and you know it, when you are 
 so often repeating those tantalizing words that I sent for 
 him in the way you insinuate." 
 
 " You tell lies as fast as a dog can trot," said he, quoting 
 an expression used by his eldest son's wife in reference to 
 his children. Now he transferred it to his wife in this 
 dreadful accusation. Young ladies, this is no picture of the 
 imagination, but a bona fide relation of facts. 
 
 Mrs. Smith very calmly, mildly, dispassionately, and 
 truthfully replied to him, — 
 
 " You judge me by yourself and your children." 
 
 Mount Etna and Vesuvius again! See the diabolical 
 tyranny and injustice of the man! She must be charged 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 267 
 
 witli lying in the most dastardly manner, for tie had her in 
 liis power while under his roof a5 his lawful wife, entitled 
 ro protection from him ; but •<lie must not tell him of the 
 atrocious lies he was forever telling on her, or saying them 
 to her, when the fits were on him. 
 
 Instantly he jumped up. doubled up his fists and pounded 
 awav on her jaws as hard as he could, almost enough to 
 dislocate them : choked her, and looked behind the door ; 
 got the butt end of an old whip for the carriage, the lower 
 part beincr broken ofi\ and beat her with it across the shoul- 
 ders and arms nine or ten licks : such as left the bruises, 
 great red and purple stripes, which did not wear ofl' for 
 more than two weeks. 
 
 wonder she had not fled from him after the fisting 
 spell, before he came with the whip ; but she seemed to be 
 completely paralyzed with astonishment, and sat mute, 
 silent, patient, and dumb as a lamb before her slaughterers. 
 
 2sor do we know if she could have escaped him if she 
 could have made the efibrt. Amazement and astonishment 
 both seized her, so that she seemed to be riveted to the 
 spot, not moving at all, nor said a word to him all the 
 time. Xot even a groan, nor a cry, but only, " Sir, I wish 
 you to kill me." For now she knew she might as well be 
 dead, and better, too, since he had violated all laws, both 
 sacred and human, and done this dreadful deed. She had 
 seen a brutal grandfather strike down a sainted grandmother, 
 when a petted grandchild ; she had seen her own father 
 cruelly beat a good mother, and as noble a woman as was 
 in the world ; and she had vowed, at a very tender age, that 
 if ever she were married, she would do all that a good wife 
 could do. She would never deserve beating from a husband ; 
 and if ever he transcended the bounds of civilization and 
 humanity so much as to strike and abuse her with his hands 
 or whips, she would never live with him again! She was 
 
268 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 not old enougli then, nor liad knowledge of the ways of true 
 noble men, the workmanship of God's own hand, to know 
 that one of these never strike a woman — but especially one 
 called wife, who is as the one ewe lamb to every true hus- 
 band, and that he would as soon strike out his eyes as 
 the wife of his bosom ! Vf e do verily believe there are men in 
 this world, men whom God our heavenly Father hath made, 
 men whom the devil has had no chance to make over again 
 to his own liking, that would suifer death before they 
 would impose on a suffering, confiding woman, who had 
 forsaken all the world, father, mother, brother, and sister, 
 to nestle under his strong wings for protection, and near his 
 noble heart for love, before he would even think of raising 
 his hand against this tender one. Oh, there are such in our 
 sin-cursed world yet ; and we do thank the Lord that there 
 are, and humbly hope that the number will be vastly in- 
 creased, and let the brutes and savages that beat their wives 
 go to the wall or the bottom of the sea, for what we care. 
 What ! beat a woman called a wife ? Language fails us ! 
 Our vocabulary of words to apply to them is exhausted. 
 Neither do we believe in railiog accusations, but say, " the 
 Lord rebuke you, Satan !" or, " the Lord rebuke you, 
 Satans ;" as we fear ye are yet in the plurality. If there was 
 but one wife-beater, we could soon chase him out of creation, 
 or awe him out of countenance by better company, so that 
 he would never more dare to lift up his craven head among 
 his fellows, knowing that none gave him favor. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWIiTE. 
 
 269 
 
 CHAPTEK Xiy. 
 
 MRS. smith's EXEMIE3 REJOICE. 
 
 ^jVj'OW the fatal work was dooe ! that kind of work which 
 1 Mrs. Smith had said all her days (which had strength- 
 ened with her strength, and grown with her growth,) would 
 separate her from a husband. What must she do ? Must she 
 keep her word ? iSTow while he was replacing the whip behind 
 the door, she asked herself had he forgotten her yow ? Why 
 did he not try to detain her ? for she rose from her seat very 
 deliberately, where she had been all this time (statue like) 
 sitting, barefoot and in her night-gown, and went to the 
 front door. " Shall I go ? " said she to her own soul. " The 
 die is cast ; yes," she replied again to herself, the die is 
 cast. I can lie down vrith him no more." And with that 
 thought she ran across a little orchard of different kinds of 
 fruit-trees, which she had planted between their house-yard 
 and a fence that ran between the orchard and a branch of 
 water on the west side of the house. As she fled through 
 this small orchard and favorite spot, she met the veritable 
 bad house-girl ; and although as bad as sin could make her, 
 yet she was compelled to feel distress when she saw this 
 mistress in trouble, for she had been not only a mistress but 
 as a mother to her. 
 
 " What is the matter. Miss Grace ? " said she. 
 " There is a great deal the matter with me," said Mrs. 
 Smith, and on she went, bending her way to their nearest 
 neighbor, Mr. W H . 
 
 • As she passed the branch, a peculiar kind of croaking 
 sound among some of the water animals saluted her ears, 
 the reverberation of which seemed to penetrate her heart 
 and ears both for many, many long days after, ^s^or did 
 23* 
 
270 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN,' 
 
 she ever pass that place again without such sensations as 
 are more easHy felt than described. Sometimes, when near 
 the little stream, a halo of sacred sorrow would seem to 
 glow in her heart, and those words of a hymn, in reference 
 to our Saviour's betrayal, would come to her mind, " That 
 doleful night in which our Saviour was betrayed," etc. And 
 truly the illusion was not so great. Was she not betrayed ? 
 Was she not betrayed into the hands of sinners f 
 
 Her feet were badly cut and bruised by the time she 
 reached the place to which she bent her weary steps. She 
 called gently to the lady of the house, whose husband was 
 
 absent. Mrs. H said she knew there was distress in 
 
 her voice as soon as she heard it, and very sympathetically 
 condoled with Mrs. Smith about these strange things that 
 happened. She bound up and anointed her lacerated feet, 
 examined her wounds, and said, " These are no very light 
 stripes." She further remarked : 
 
 ".Mrs. Smith, I have always thought Mr. Smith thought 
 a great deal of you." 
 
 Mrs. Smith then told her how he had treated her by 
 violent hands besides his tongue, and she thought best now 
 never, never to live with him again ; which, of course, would 
 be the best for her now that confidence was destroyed for- 
 ever. Mrs. H would say : 
 
 " Mrs. Smith, you bear this trouble the best in the world," 
 and the tears would stream down her face. Oh, how much 
 she did need some one, just at this time, to advise and direct 
 her where to go and what to do. Far better for her had she 
 been left to herself alone, than to have had the counsellors 
 she did have. She had tried all Smith's household for 
 eight long years, and this was the result, the reward of her 
 self-sacrince and immolation. And she felt no disposition 
 to return to that place of torment, as it had been, with but 
 few intervals, all the time to her. How much, she only 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWIXE. 
 
 271 
 
 knew, and He wlio sees and notices the fall of a sparrow, 
 and puts our tears in his bottles. 
 
 After Smith's dreadful abuse of his wife, as soon as he 
 missed her, he searched everywhere about his premises for 
 her. But she was not to be found. The next morniDg, 
 suspecting, we suppose, whither she had gone, he sent over 
 to Mr. H 's to learn if she was there. 
 
 This holy Sabbath morning's light and sun dawned upon 
 Mrs. Smith sick in bed. And although as brave as any 
 woman that ever lived, yet such had been the shock which 
 came over her from Smith's demoniacal looks and conduct 
 towards her while using violence on her body, that she was 
 frightened at the very sound or thought of him, and would 
 as soon have seen a bear or the devil as to have seen him. 
 
 The old talking preacher returned from Jerome's to 
 IS'apoleon Smith's again on the way to church. In ot knowing 
 what had happened, he asked Smith if he was going to 
 church, and if Sister Smith was going. 
 
 Smith replied, " She is not here ; that she had gone ofi' the 
 night before." And then came another one of their holy 
 conversations. How the old man felt we cannot tell, but 
 we fear there was something like a satanic joy in his old 
 breast; because Mrs. Smith would not join him in evil 
 speaking of his absent brethren, or such as he called 
 brethren, while stabbing them under- the fifth rib. And 
 as to Smith, we almost wonder the devil had not taken him 
 alive, soul and body, when he knew he was sitting there 
 and telling such awful lies to this old man, and imposing 
 on his ignorance, and pandering to his love of slander, with 
 no one to contradict him ; for Smith had all the advantage 
 this way. He could tell this old brother devil as many lies 
 as he pleased ; and, as Mrs. Smith never talked of her family 
 matters, any one envious of her, and wishing to do her an 
 injury, could believe and report what he pleased for the 
 
272 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 truth, and those might believe it who chose, as in the case 
 of the Saviour of men, " Say, while we slept, his disciples 
 came and stole him away, and if this comes to the gov- 
 ernor's ears, we will persuade him, and secure you." This 
 coming from Mr. Smith, the richest man in all the county, 
 who will not believe it? 
 
 Many things he distorted, besides telling the old slander 
 caterer absolute falsehoods. As a drowning man will catch 
 at a straw, so this already condemned sinner, condemned 
 in his own mind, did. He told the old tale-bearer that 
 " she," meaning Mrs. Smith, " struck him first." Now this 
 was a worse lie, if possible, than Ananias and Sapphira 
 told. Mrs. Smith never had in all her life the least dis- 
 position to strike a husband. Her principles were so ele- 
 vated, that all bickering and arguing in the wedded life was 
 perfectly horrible to her. Hence her great taciturnity about 
 family matters, and she could not have been excited to such 
 an act as that by any or all the provocation the devil and all 
 his angels could have charged on her. She would have fled, 
 however, as she often did ; got her bonnet and run off to the 
 garden, or some other sacred spot to w^hich she oft resorted, 
 to meet with God, and leave the blast and tempest behind. 
 Now this tale was as false or falser than when Satan said 
 to Eve, "Thou shalt not surely die, but be as gods, knowing 
 good and evil." Making God a liar, for He had said, " In 
 the day thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die." 
 
 Mrs. Smith had said, " Mr. Smith, you ought to be slapped 
 for talking to me in that manner, when you know you do not 
 believe it yourself." Words he said to her in a perfect 
 hurricane of passion and satanic rage, such words as could 
 never be written in a book, and such as were a scandal for 
 even a decent negro to have said, — who are more given to 
 vulgarity than any other race we ever knew, — much less a 
 man who called himself a gentleman, and who had pro- 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 273 
 
 fessed the religion of the meek and lowly Jesus. And what 
 else he said to the old j)reacher perhaps will never be known 
 until the day when men shall be rewarded as their works 
 shall be. But from the way the old scandal-monger spoke 
 of the elder, and the way the old mistaken hypocrite carried 
 himself towards this persecuted saint, we may very charitably 
 suppose he made a good tale for himself, and said things 
 that were detrimental to both Mrs. Smith and the preacher. 
 Five or six months after he was heard to say at their next 
 camp-meeting, by which time Smith, from the power of his 
 own conscience, had become so ashamed of his conduct, 
 when left to himself, that he quailed and turned pale if he 
 came near those who kncAV the deed he had done. But 
 old slander tales^' was heard to say, "He wished to get 
 Jerome Smith to go to the annual Conference and inform 
 against this elder. Not hut what he thought Sister Smith 
 was as prudent and virtuous as any lady, but it did not look 
 well in the preacher.'' 
 
 What did not look well, old brother Ahab ? You had 
 been about Napoleon Smith's as much as this elder ever 
 had, or more ; had sat up talking until two o'clock in the 
 morning in her bed-room. Smith being present ; and this 
 was more than the brother elder ever had done. What had 
 he done? Ah ! don't you see? He had not given him the 
 appointment of that circuit that year, and hence he pursues 
 him with satanic malice. He was in the priest's office, and 
 he wanted " to eat a piece of bread." 
 
 But, somehow, wicked as Jerome Smith might be, and as 
 much as he had deserted the church of God, to which he 
 had belonged over the river, in the good old State, and no 
 matter how much he now might hate the people of God, 
 and his sister-in-law in particular, because he could not 
 break her spirit, yet he had a little too much honor to sell 
 or lend himself to this dirty work, this foul play. His own 
 
 S 
 
274 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 wife was the sister of his brother's wife, and what credit 
 would he gain ? He could gain none, unless he could es- 
 tablish, beyond a doubt, that his sister-in-law was not a 
 correct woman ; and that he knew he could not do, for he 
 himself did not believe his brother, but thought him, when 
 he came to himself and reasoned calmly and dispassionately, 
 an insane fool. 
 
 Already there was much ado about this unjust act, and if 
 it should come to the bar or pulpit, there would be a much 
 greater stir. As it was, it raised the greatest fuss in earth 
 and hell that we ever knew in these days, and still will be 
 a greater before it is decided. Hell and earth strove hard 
 for the mastery; but as heaven and heaven's king are 
 stronger than them all, victory will be on that side, — the 
 right side, the fair side. What ! are there not enough of 
 victims who are verily fallen, (poor creatures !) that these 
 Satanic bands could not be satisfied, but must select one of 
 the purest, and best, and most virtuous of God's children, 
 and set her up on high, falsely accuse her, and have these 
 sons of Belial throw stones at her ? Ah ! but God did not 
 choose that she should be killed, as Naboth was, when the 
 insinuation was given by the hypocritical but nominal 
 member of the church as Ahab was, like our old preacher 
 also, whom Jezebel his wife stirred up ; which parallel could 
 not be carried out in the old preacher, that we ever knew 
 of ; for his wife, we suppose, was a good woman. But this 
 time they failed killing Mrs. Smith, as Naboth was. And 
 when we have thought of these two old fellows, — one we 
 know a would-be libertine, (Smith,) sitting the one telling 
 and the other believing or hearing tales as false as hell it- 
 self on those who were as pure as the angels of God, so far 
 as fleshly lust was concerned, — we have felt that -we could 
 have crushed them into oblivion, where their names ought 
 to be forgotten forever. There was one little listener to this 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 275 
 
 holy confab, else it might have been buried in oblivion until 
 the great day. 
 
 O God ! where art thou gone ? why sleepest thou, Lord, 
 over such foul doings ? Thou that seest and knowest all 
 hearts, how couldst thou suffer the innocent thus to be 
 treated, and the guilty pass unpunished ? Our very soul is 
 harrowed up when we think of this matter. For Mrs. 
 Smith no more believed, nor had any idea that any one could 
 ever dare believe, any such thing of one so pure, so holy, so 
 chaste, modest, and virtuous as she had ever been, than 
 she believed God was Beelzebub, or that Beelzebub was 
 God. In fact, this thought never came to her mind ; her all- 
 powerful innocence she thought sufficient guarantee to es- 
 tablish her, beyond doubt forever, a pure woman. In fact, 
 she had ever been above suspicion where she was raised ; 
 and the devil would have had a funny time, if he had at- 
 tempted such an attack on her good name where she had 
 been best and longest known ; but, as stated before, she was 
 among people who knew not Joseph. And for reasons 
 before stated, that of hearing that they were busybodies, 
 and delighted to hear idle tales told of her from the negroes 
 and children, she sought not their acquaintance. This they 
 worked up as capital against her, — ("she was proud.") 
 Therefore would they rejoice in any calamity that befell 
 her, for she knew there was no mortal on earth, in heaven, 
 or the pit, who could say that he, she, or they had ever seen 
 any departure from the purest life by her, and tell the truth. 
 O cursed be such libidinous wretches, who can never see 
 any character,* no matter how transparent, only through 
 their own beclouded, bedaubed, and bemired glasses of sin ! 
 their own hearts giving coloring to all they see, and, as 
 they are as black as Satan ever dared to be, of course all 
 they see partakes of the same hue. 
 
 This glorious news sped like wild fire through all that 
 
276 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 settlement. Jerome Smith's family had set out for church, 
 some went to Napoleon Smith's and returned home. Some 
 went on to church. Why one man's abusing his wife should 
 have created such a terrible ado, we never could see, unless 
 it was as in the case of the Saviour of the world. She was 
 so innocent and guiltless in all this matter that the very 
 heavens were disturbed, and the heathen raged and imagined 
 a vain thing; for she in very deed was crucified both in 
 body and mind. For we bear testimony before God and 
 high heaven, that if she had been murdered right out, it 
 would have been better for her in this world than it was, as 
 the thing existed then ; for woe to any one when these 
 Smiths rose up against them, (he or she,) true or false. 
 They would get the better of the matter by lies and insin- 
 uations, for we are sure it never, never could have been done 
 by fair play. The old negress, wicked as she w^as, said 
 master would drop down into the pit before he would open- 
 ly avow a wrong. If rightly represented, it could never 
 have done her harm ; but, on the contrary, must, most un- 
 doubtedly, have greatly exalted her in the eyes' of all good 
 people. Good people, indeed ! we wonder where they dwell ? 
 in heaven? Ah, yes! not exactly about that section and 
 region of country at that time. True, there were some ; but 
 they are ever, on this green earth, few and far between, like 
 
 angels' visits 
 
 Jerome Smith's wife was one who returned from N. 
 Smith's, and came where her sister was, while her husband 
 remained with his brother, in great sympathy with him, no 
 doubt, and glad in his heart that this unconquerable sister- 
 in-law, in a little right doing, had got a beating ; for he was 
 an unjust man, and willing that she should be punished, 
 because she would not be as they were, or how we cannot 
 tell; for they pretended any thing but righteous things. 
 As soon as she beheld her dear sister in bed sick, and 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 277 
 
 bruised up. she burst iuto tears, and wi-hed that Smith 
 had been dead. 
 
 And now. Yvdiile the sisters are here in this mournful con- 
 , dition. let us turn our eyes to Smith's residence. It was 
 situated in a somewhat will country, and rather romantic 
 in appearance. The house was built of hewn logs, such as 
 are common in new countries. It consisted of four large 
 rooms, two above and two below, with two brick chimneys, 
 one at each end ; three glass windows to each room below, 
 and two apiece without glass to those above. About 
 thirty paces from the western door was another house of 
 hewn logs, with one brick chimney, which they called the 
 diuing-house : also where the larger boys of the house had 
 their room, and lodged. A little tarther south of this house 
 was the well and kitchen, and to the south-east the gardens 
 lay. On the north waved the long-leafed pine, the sound 
 among the tops of which was like the roar of distant waters. 
 On the east was an oak growth and a great variety of young 
 trees and swamp evergreens, and on the south-east and 
 south rolled a beautiful and pr^try large creek ; while on 
 the west was the meandering, romantic branch spoken of 
 before, from the banks of which ascending were hills and 
 slopes of country almost mountain high. 
 
 In this domicile, surrounded by flowers, roses, shrubbery, 
 and sweets of almost every kind of nature's productions 
 planted by the hand of Mrs. Smith, sat these two brothers, 
 meditating what ? — peace ? Ah, no I we guess not, else they 
 would have had that all the time. But what they did 
 meditate, God only knows, as it is impossible for us to know 
 only a part. And what we do know was made known by 
 many little things and words spoken. In that day when 
 the secrets of all hearts shall be made known, then we may 
 know. 
 
 In this house, too, were the five children Mrs. Smith 
 24 
 
278 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 called lier own, and which she had up to this age raised. 
 The oldest of the first wife's two youngest children, a girl 
 of some ten or twelve years, her youngest son about nine or 
 ten, Mrs. Smith's own eldest son about six, her second boy 
 about four, and her own only little daughter about three 
 years old; all these were wandering about hunting and 
 calling for their ma like so many little stray partridges or 
 chicks without the parent hen. For up to this time these 
 children had seemed to love their mother better than any 
 thing else on earth. The daughter, a sharp girl, was lis- 
 tening to everything that was said of her mamma. For a 
 time Smith and his brother Jerome rejoiced over their tri- 
 umph. Smith was heard to tell his brother that he wanted 
 to get rid of his wife, and that he had given her only two 
 or three licks so that he might effect this purpose, (it 
 seemed he remembered her saying then, but what cared he 
 for that ?) and that he was now glad that she was gone. 
 This he afterwards denied ; but his own child (not hers) 
 told it on him, however, and that without any making, this 
 time at least ; for what would she have cared for a vanquished 
 stepmother now, if she had so minded to be against her ? 
 Was not her noble papa and all her brothers ready to be 
 for her, and had not they all the power ? 
 
 Some of the negroes that same night had gone over to 
 Smith's eldest son's ; for they were all nestled round their 
 father on his plantation, watching what was going on, and 
 planning destruction. So when he heard it, he gave glory to 
 God, and bellowed as he had done at some of the camp- 
 meetings before, and we fear shouted more than he will 
 when the world is on fire, for we very much fear his shout- 
 ing will be another way. Thus the wicked rejoiced over 
 the fall, as they thought, of one of God's own children, a 
 much abused one. But " rejoice not against me, O mine 
 enemy ; for when I fall, I shall rise again," was her Ian- 
 
A2sD HUSKS OF SWINE. 279 
 
 guage, and all that day the peace of God as a river flowed 
 through her soul. " Though I walk through the valley of 
 the shadow of death, I will fear no evil ; for thou art with 
 me. thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." 
 
 Shortly after their holy confalD at Smith's, Jerome re- 
 turned, and called for his wife to go home from her afflicted, 
 though glorified sister. For here we may be allowed to 
 digress a little from the thread of the story, and say, in our 
 opinion, this was her seal of martyrdom, here she received 
 the crown that set her among the holy throng who had 
 suffered for Jesus' name, and shed their blood. Her blood 
 was verily shed from bruises of shoulder and feet, too. And 
 may she not, in the day of righteous revelation from God, 
 be able to look upon this scene, which, to earth, looked so 
 dark, (and to some was the clouding and shrouding the 
 heavens over her forever in this world,) as one of pecu- 
 liar grace and glory, that she was counted worthy to suffer 
 these things for her Saviour, and to enter into his glory. 
 And ofttimes in reading that beautiful passage where the 
 two disciples walked to Emmaus and were sad, Jesus said 
 . » unto them, " O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that 
 the prophets have written, ought not Christ to have 
 suffered these things, and to enter into his glory ? " would 
 she feel it apj)lied to her mind many long yeai-s after, 
 though she did pass through many a dark valley and shadow 
 of death, that she ought for her Saviour's sake to have suf- 
 fered these things and enter into his glory. It sealed her 
 with the crown of martyrdom ; it set her among the saints 
 who were beheaded for Christ's sake ; it gave her deep fel- 
 lowship with the sufferings of Christ; and Dr. Adam Clarke 
 says, " He that is persecuted, or suffers persecution for the 
 cause of Christ, is eminently honored of his Creator." 
 
 The poor little children, while theii' papa was engaged 
 with their uncle, stole off, and ran to see their dear mother, 
 
280 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 and told her all how they were doing and talking. Smith 
 had threatened his daughter almost with death if she went 
 to see her mother, when he knew she would do it at the 
 risk of her life, such appeared to be her great attachment 
 to this friend and guide of her youth. Some of the servants 
 also stole off, and carried some of Mrs. Smith's clothes to 
 her. Smith had not yet come to himself, nor was likely to 
 do so, while under Jerome's influence. 
 
 Shortly after Jerome left, Mrs. Smith received the follow- 
 ing lines from her yet savage husband. 
 
 " Mrs. Grace Smith : — I did not drive you off*. You can 
 return, if you see proper; and if not, I will settle a child's part 
 on you during your lifetime. Send me word what you will do. 
 I am sorry things have turned out so, but your will is my 
 pleasure." 
 
 Recently got so, thought Mrs. Smith ; her will, your will, 
 your pleasure, indeed ! if it had been so, even in a half-way 
 justice on your part, this sad occurrence never would have 
 astonished any person nor gladdened enemies. Insulting 
 wretch ! to add insult to -injury and murder. To this hind 
 epistle she made no reply ; but her own mind was never, 
 never, never, come what would, to return to him and his 
 wicked family again, in which she had received every in- 
 jury possible, even to bloodshed, and that from the hand 
 of one called by the name of husband, a perjured man, who 
 had sworn at God's altar to protect and shield her, instead 
 of heaping reproach, contumely, and insult to the highest 
 degree upon her devoted head. And then, as if to cap the 
 climax, and fill up the hard bargain, to as good as murder 
 her, and throw her under the hedge, to be worried and torn 
 by all the wild boars, dogs, and vultures who might pass 
 by and please to do so, from within his own borders, and as 
 many more from the world as chose to join this holy com- 
 pany. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWIKE. 
 
 281 
 
 After awhile, seeing his beautiful note had not the de- 
 sired effect, Smith began to come to himself a little, being, 
 as we suppose, not yet quite damned. All sparks of feel- 
 ing might not yet be gone — feeling for himself, at least ; 
 for we deceive ourselves, and she was deceived, as when she 
 first married him, if we or she believed his relentings were 
 for her or her sufferings. The sequel will prove that to 
 demonstration, if we ever present that to our readers. How- 
 ever, he began to repent or misgive from some cause or 
 other. 
 
 The little children, as their papa began to be busy with 
 himself, and forgot to watch them, stole off to see their 
 mother again, and remained with her all the afternoon. 
 The daughter told her that on their return home in the 
 morning, her father had scared her nearly to death, — 
 threatened to kill her; for he knew she had gone over there 
 just to tell her mother everj^thing they said, and a pack of 
 lies, too. Poor child ! if she did, we think she had an apt 
 teacher in her father. And need we wonder at some things 
 which came to pass a few years after, in this child's conduct 
 towards this poor mother ? A brother of hers, too, had 
 perhaps more to do with the change in this girl's mind 
 towards this much wronged woman, who had always been 
 not only so very " careful of this child," as her neighbor 
 expressed it, but really did love the poor child as her own. 
 
 But why did he fear his child's telling his poor persecuted 
 wife and her despised stepmother anything ? . "\Yere they not 
 kings ? Why need he, or Jerome either, fear anything - — 
 especially anything they should say — being told such a 
 woman as they were wont to make his wife appear ? This 
 is all mystery to us. And we shall not now undertake to 
 solve it. The Sabbath night passed away. Mrs. Smith 
 was still happy and trustful in God. The Holy Scriptures 
 were her great support and comfort in the day of trouble. 
 24* 
 
282 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 She was possessed of the spirit that enables one to burn at 
 the stake, and sing in the flames — " at midnight Paul and 
 Silas sang praises to God." She had some of Daniel's spirit 
 also — " cast me into the lion's den, and I will still praise 
 and pray unto my God as heretofore." Some say that the 
 opposition to the cross of Christ has in a measure ceased. 
 Not a bit of it. It is as rank to-day as ever. The secular 
 arm restrains these diabolions a little. But just give them 
 that, as heretofore, and the blood of true Christians would 
 flov/ as St. Stephen's did, in the early ages of Christianity. 
 See how many devices Satan helps his votaries to, by which 
 to torture those who will not serve God and mammon to- 
 gether. This was one of his masterpieces of strategic 
 policy, which he committed to his faithful general, or 
 generals, as we might call these Smiths, who had departed 
 from their God, and were serving their own lusts and 
 
 malice Monday morning brought a new state of 
 
 affairs. Smith had, during the Sabbath, in attempting to 
 go up-stairs where she so oft resorted, fell on the steps, or 
 pretended to fall ; had nearly fainted, it was said, under a 
 sense of what he had done. 
 
 Jerome went over there again this morning, his wife 
 having stopped v/ith her sister. Presently, he returned with 
 a note from his brother to Mrs. Smith, not daring to pre- 
 sent it himself, for a more unpopular person on earth (to 
 Mrs. Smith) could not have been sent on an embassy of 
 negotiation than he was, for she considered him, if not the 
 prime cause of all this matrimonial confusion, at least a 
 great abettor to it. It was as if the hand of an assassin 
 should hand a note to her. No, he should not come near her. 
 
 In our mind's eye, we can see them all three now, — Je- 
 rome hastily riding on his fine gray mule, looking for all the 
 world like a condemned man ; Mrs. N. Smith flying from 
 the house, lest she might encounter his disagreeable pres- 
 
AND HUSKS OF Sy>'INE. 
 
 283 
 
 ence ; lier sister pursuing her witli tlie note in her hand. 
 Mrs. N. Smith, at a safe distance from the house, got upon 
 a stump, her sister still in pursuit, wliile, with a voice she 
 hoped loud enough for Jerome to hear, she said, "Go off 
 with your land, and all your property propositions. All 
 the Smiths in the world have not money enough to buy 
 me. Your land, away with it." Fur her sister had told 
 her some of the propositions Jerome said his brother would 
 make to his wife. And then she still continued speaking : 
 " This eternal reference to a little property, my soul is sick 
 of;" for Smith had worried her mucli ; perhaps hundreds of 
 times had said to her, " Just say the word, and I will make 
 over everything I have in the world to you." And as oft 
 would she reply that she never would do such a thing. "I 
 never will wrong your children. I came not into the family 
 to act unjustly, but ex23ected to be called ' the repairer of 
 the breach, the restorer of paths to dwell in;' and now such 
 everlasting wrangling and talking about property — I will 
 not, away with it." 
 
 If Mrs. Smith had been a designing woman, she would 
 have endeavored to please Smith alone, and let his children 
 go. It was thought she had great influence over him. 
 Be that as it may, if she could not influence him to do 
 right, she would not to do wrong. But her sister still pur- 
 sued her with the note, laughing, and reading in her mis- 
 chievous and funny style, saying, " Come here, my dear." 
 Mrs. Grace Smith read it. It commenced as follows: 
 
 " Mrs. Grace Smith : — My dear, it is my desire that you 
 return home. If you will, I will send a Iioi^se for you." 
 
 Now, serious as the times were, the sisters could not re- 
 frain from laughing at this epistle. " Oh, mighty dear am 
 I to you now," to be sure, thought Mrs. Smith. 
 
 Jerome returned to his quondam brother, and informed 
 him' of his unsuccessful embassy. Send some other mes- 
 
284 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 senger, you foolish man, if you wish to succeed. There 
 are none in all your crowd but what would be treated with 
 the same scorn. So he came back to his wife, and said that 
 Napoleon was as pale as death ; and if Grace did not re- 
 turn, he believed he would be a corpse in less than ten 
 days. No danger of that, my good brother, we guess. He 
 is only afraid of the lawyers, and a lawsuit, and his own 
 condition. He does not care two straws for the injured 
 wife. This touched Mrs. Grace Smith's tender heart, 
 though she did not wish to see him. His savage looks on 
 Saturday night haunted her vision night and day. 
 
 One of the servant- women — the bad one — came over, 
 and said, " Oh, Miss Grace, do come back ; there are all 
 your books and clothes hanging, and you absent ; it seems 
 as if you were dead ! " An old faithful servant, when he 
 saw how his mistress was beaten and bruised, the tears 
 coursed "down his manly cheeks as if she had been his own 
 color, or his child. His wife, an old woman, came to 
 strengthen her hands in God. And while she was talking 
 to her mistress, and saying God was on her side, she looked 
 towards home, and exclaimed, "Oh, Miss Grace, yonder 
 comes master ! " 
 
 Mrs. Smith looked and saw him, pale and white, haggard 
 and frightful, come tilting as hard as he could walk, with 
 his walking-stick in hand. He looked fearful to her. And 
 away she flew out of the door through the back door, the 
 backway opposite the road he was in, through an orchard 
 in the rear of the house where she was. He came ; some 
 of the servants of the family on being asked told him 
 which way she went. . He bent his steps after her. She 
 looked behind and saw him coming. She mended her 
 gait, although very weak from exhaustion and fright, and 
 ready to faint. Now she was entangled in some briers 
 and ready to fall, but still determined, at the risk of her life, 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 285 
 
 he should not get to her, nor overtake her. She made for 
 the road to which her "way wended, or wound out to the 
 west of the house. Again she spied him. She again 
 quickened her pace. And now perceiving that, if she kept 
 the straight road to the next house, he would most assuredly 
 overtake her, she spied a little cabin in the woods, and 
 taking the covert of some bushes that intervened between 
 her and her pursuing foe, she turned aside with all her 
 might, panting for breath, plunged into the house head- 
 long, and fell on a bed more dead than alive. 
 
 The little cabin was the house of the overseer of the gen- 
 tleman at whose house she had taken refuge. The woman 
 of the house, being the only inmate there except a little 
 child or two, exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Smith, what is the matter ? " 
 
 She told her in a few words, as she could gather breath 
 and strength to speak. . ' 
 
 " Are you so afraid of him as that, my dear madam? 
 Why, you are as pale as a corpse ! " 
 
 But she thus eluded his pursuit. He could not find her. 
 Now the thought came into her mind while she was running 
 from him, that if he could get to her, and she all alone, with 
 that stick in his hand, he might beat her to death, and no 
 one would ever know it. She had no better opinion of him at 
 that time ... But he failed, and went back home, which he 
 had made desolate by his own brutality and violence ; and 
 she, after reviving sufficiently, returned to the house whence 
 she had fled. Another one of her neighbors having sent 
 for her, she went thither, and spent the remainder of that 
 day and the night also with her. She still determined never 
 to return to him. And while there she opened the Bible, 
 and the name " Joseph " lighted on her mind, having caught 
 her eye as soon as she opened the book. The comparison 
 of that pure young man's case to her own was too obvious 
 
286 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEK, 
 
 to pass unnoticed on this trying occasion. She derived di- 
 vine consolation and support from it. The innocent and 
 virtuous must suffer when in the hands of sinners, in the 
 hands of the wicked. . . . 
 
 By this time Mr. H , husband of the lady to whose 
 
 house she first fied, had returned home, having been absent 
 when this dreadful affair had taken place at his neighbor 
 N. Smith's. He had ever seemed to respect Mrs. Smith for 
 her superior good sense, and she and his wife were on the 
 best of terms as kind neighbors. And while he was passing 
 by Smith's, on his way to his daughter's, whither his wife 
 had gone on account of her daughter being sick. Smith 
 called to this gentleman, and asked him to use his influence 
 with his wife to get her to return, saying, " He had done 
 that in a mad fit, for which he wished his right hand or arm 
 had been cut ofl" to his shoulder before he should ever have 
 done*it," and added, " that when he got mad, he had no 
 more reason than a mad dog." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 MRS. smith's return. 
 
 JOSEPH was sold for a servant ; his feet were hurt with 
 fetters, he was laid in irons." That night passed and 
 another day came; Joseph's name was still on her mind. 
 The comparison was striking ; it sent a thrill of holy delight 
 to her soul. Without reading another word, she rejoiced. 
 Joseph was imprisoned, and lay low with other accused cul- 
 prits, all for a lie told on him. Her own mind and judg- 
 ment was to go to the town, the county site of the adjoining 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 287 
 
 county, employ counsel, and get a bill of separation from 
 Smith and all his unholy doings, 
 
 Mrs. Smith was entitled to this by his brutal violence 
 alone, without the evidence of the long tissue of persecutions 
 by the tongue, by the statutes of both States in which they 
 had lived. And in this thought she seemed to derive comfort 
 from the God of heaven. The Holy Spirit seemed to inspire 
 and direct in this course. Not that we believe the God of 
 heaven, or the Holy Spirit of God, countenances such courses 
 for everything^ even incompatibility of temper. Yet the 
 Saviour of men said, "Moses," whom we know was God's 
 law-giver, " suffered these things for the hardness of their 
 henrts." Because the infinitely good One, the Father of all, 
 saw that in some cases it was best for the poor, down-trodden 
 woman that she should be separated from her cruel, tyran- 
 nical husband, than to dwell with him in eternal torment, or 
 torment and torture so long as they both should live. * And 
 we do think, after many years' e±perience and observation, 
 when a being called a man, but who is not a man in God's 
 sense of the word, at an early period of the married life 
 begins to cut shines, and get up a dust about nothing in the 
 world but his own distorted, false view of things, that right 
 there and then, nine times out of ten, it is best for the poor 
 woman that she separate from this brute of a man. Be- 
 cause, no matter how the thing is patched up, the same de- 
 moniac principle that caused him to act unjustly will cause 
 it again. And farther on in life there may be others, their 
 helpless offspring, to suffer besides themselves — always 
 taking it for granted that one or the other of the married 
 parties are innocent. For if both are guilty, the law^ acts 
 as a bar upon them, considers them equal, and gives them 
 no legal separation, A very proper law, we think, among 
 many that are unjust towards the woman esj^ecially. That 
 is, where our law-makers are biased by their own selfish 
 
288 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 interest, and in decisions are influenced by the weiglit of the 
 tyrannical husband's purse, or his ill-gotten evidence against 
 his victim, as in the case of Naboth, against whom were 
 suborned wicked men of Belial, who said and swore to things 
 false, to get Naboth stoned to death. 
 
 Mrs. Smith thought the surest way of safety and peace 
 to herself and her dear little ones, now in his power, was 
 the justness of her cause and an appeal to the justice of the 
 laws of her country. Of this Smith was afraid ; hence his 
 great anxiety to repossess her, and get her to return. He 
 had a mortal dread of getting into the hands of the lawyers 
 or the law ; not so much a dread of law and lawyers, as for 
 ' the sake of the dollars and cents. He had staked all, and 
 had accumulated a pretty comfortable estate of negroes and 
 lands ; had made them his idols ; and whatsoever a man 
 loves most, to that he will cling with the greatest tenacity. 
 He had some dread of public scandal ; but that he could 
 soon waive by putting it all on his hapless, helpless victim, 
 not considering the reproach equal, or even thinking or 
 caring what bearing it might have upon his children. Blind 
 man ! " Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." 
 He had sown to the wind, and was now reaping the whirl- 
 wind. 
 
 Mrs. Smith told Mrs. W what she thought of going 
 
 to town. " Oh," said she, " he will think you will rum him, 
 if you go there." 
 
 Well, if he were ruined, it was his deserts and not hers, 
 he and he alone had brought it on himself. In her hands, 
 if let alone, it would have been very different. 
 
 Twice had it been said that she would ruin others by 
 leaving them. Self-preservation, the first instinct of nature, 
 ' ever presents itself first with what is best for us to do. It 
 is a law in our very natures and souls, that is like the best 
 of lawyers, ever on the watch-tower or lookout for us, to 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 289 
 
 guard us from our enemies. And if from cowardice, or 
 policy of others, or unwise advice of others, which amounts 
 to the same thing as policy, for if others who are our true 
 friends, as the good lawyer is, give us advice at all, it is for 
 our best interests. And they weigh well the matter before 
 advice is given. Others, perhaps, wish not to be ol)noxiou3 
 to the adverse party, or have some latent interest in us, 
 which they are afraid they might lose, if they advised the 
 way we wish. There is some selfishness mixed up with 
 their motives. Or they may not ])e apprised of the depths 
 of our wrongs, and hence should withhold their advice. 
 Especially, if they know we have not suspected them enough 
 to discern their flimsy garment of sophistry, of pretended 
 friendship — interested friendshijD ; or their utter incapa- 
 bility of giving advice in our case. But this does not suit 
 their purpose. They wish us to remain blind to their real 
 
 motives Self-immolation had been her portion all 
 
 these days and years past, and now must she, for the sake 
 of her awfully selfish husband (or he who had been), be 
 still further sacrificed on the altar of his lust and ambition, 
 under the semblance of contrition for his conduct ? True 
 contrition being entire reformation and restitution, where 
 anything has been taken away by detraction and false ac- 
 cusation. Alas! there was none of this spirit truly about 
 him this time, though it might have that appearance to 
 other eyes than those of Mrs. Smith's, who had been behind 
 the scenes. We have heard of bed-curtain lectures. Of 
 these she had had line upon line, and precept upon precept, 
 until she wished no more, Her very soul loathed tliese 
 scenes, And would he desist from a lifetime practice now ? 
 Did she not know the voice and language of wounded ar- 
 rogancy too well to think his repentance genuine? 
 
 While still at Mrs. W 's, in the afternoon ISIr. H • 
 
 and his wife both came with a message from Smith to his 
 25 . T 
 
290 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 "wife. One of his sons had come. Poor fellow! called an 
 imbecile in the family, but one who had more grace to treat 
 Mrs. Smith well than any of the other and older boys, who 
 thought they were wiser than this their brother. He 
 offered all that he was worth, poor fellow, if Mrs. Smith 
 would return. But she had soon sent him away, telling 
 him to leave her alone. 
 
 Mrs. W said, "Well, Mrs. Smith, I think you could 
 
 plead your cause very well, judging from your eloquence to 
 that poor boy." This lady never took«it upon her to advise 
 Mrs. Smith, but was truer in her friendship than many that 
 did. 
 
 Mrs. Smith had felt a cloud overshadow her mind, as her 
 faith began to waver from hearing so many messages from 
 mistaken friends. And immediately after dinner came the 
 
 chief one. Mr. H and his wife had come by Smith's on 
 
 their return from their visit to their daughter. Smith had 
 feigned himself sick, and perhaps was really so, and told 
 
 Mrs. H that he expected to die soon ; and that it was 
 
 very heart-rending to hear the little children going over the 
 house calling for their mother, especially the only little 
 
 girl Mrs. Smith had ; " and," said Mrs. H to her, " he 
 
 requested me, as if it was the last word he had to say, to beg 
 you, if you please, to return, if it was but to see him die, 
 and that he will never treat you amiss again. That he 
 
 made this request because he knew Mrs. H had more 
 
 influence with his wife than any one else in the neighbor- 
 hood." Look at the cunning of the man, even when pre- 
 tending to die. Wonder if Mrs. Smith was to return, how 
 long it would be before he would forbid her visiting the old 
 lady; would be jealous of her sons, or even of the old man? 
 But this kind old gentleman did not know this, and told 
 Mrs. Smith what Smith had before said to him of his con- 
 duct; "and although," said he, "he has done so wrong, he 
 
AND HUSKS OF 
 
 SWINE. 
 
 29i 
 
 flung the tears from me in a hurry ; and now, my dear 
 madam, if you can return, do so. The Lord God'of heaven 
 is able to redress your wrongs, and he will do it." 
 
 Mrs. Smith was overwhelmed. Her sympathetic nature 
 was touched. Yet she could not have much confidence in 
 his repentance, knowing better than any one else his former 
 freaks, and frequent changes from bad to good, and from 
 good to bad again. Yet the idea of his being prostrated 
 on a bed of sickness affected her kind, generous, forgiving 
 heart, as it should not have done ; for his sickness was only 
 feigned, and it needed only her presence to arouse him from 
 that bed, and erelong the demon would return, and he be 
 returned to his wallowing in the mire, and be studying 
 some more diabolical mischief in his brain with which to 
 torture his victim. The only trouble now was that the bird 
 was out of the foul cage. But her plan was (and a good 
 one, too), that if she ever returned, before she would again 
 trust herself in that unjust family, — inasmuch as by his 
 violence he had made the thing public (for had he not said 
 to his brother he wished to get rid of her, and therefore 
 had given a few licks?) — if he did not wish a legal investi- 
 gation, of which he stood in so much awe, as it had been 
 about the preachers, and the more innocent ones especially, 
 that he should now call a company of these together, and 
 before them, and before the world, so far as the news had 
 gone, both by written and oral declaration, make a public 
 confession of his wrong ; right her before a^^men, and ask par- 
 don, not only of her, which could be done in a corner, as 
 had been done a thousand times before, but perhaps denied 
 if he thought proper. But as public as this thing was, so 
 public should be his recantation. The law of restitution 
 demands it, and woe be to the man or woman who has 
 sinned against another that does not make haste and fulfil 
 this law. He or she shall be bound down in prison, nor 
 
292 
 
 BEEAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 Bhall tliey ever come forth until tliey have paid to the utter- 
 most farthing. Oh, if we had injured another in mortal 
 life, we would make haste, as from the windy storin and 
 tempest, to make restitution. Zaccheus said, "If I have 
 taken anything away from any man by false accusation, I 
 restore him fourfold." How was this man to restore Mrs. 
 Smith fourfold? It was impossible; inasmuch as money 
 can never be put in competition with one's good name. " A 
 good name is to be preferred to gold or silver." " He that 
 steals my gold, steals trash. It is something, it is nothing, 
 and has been servant of thousands, but he that takes my 
 good name from me, takes that that cannot enrich him, but 
 leaves me poor indeed." An impoverished creature, in- 
 deed, is a dear, good woman deprived of her good name. 
 It is her royal diadem. In it the stars of virtue and good- 
 ness, modesty, and real worth outshine all the gems and 
 costly pearls that ever glittered in the crown of royalty. 
 It is far more brilliant ; yea, it is more brilliant than the 
 royal king of day in all his splendor, for is it not said that 
 the righteous shall outshine the sun? 
 
 But to return. The kind old gentleman again told her 
 what Smith had said. How he wished " his arm had been 
 cut off to his shoulder before he had ever raised his hand 
 against his wife ; " and how wrong it was. " Yet, my dear 
 madam, if you can return, please do so." Then, again, Mrs. 
 
 H said, " Mrs. Smith, Mr. Smith appealed to me, in his 
 
 distress, to speak in his behalf, because he said he knew you 
 had more confidence in me than any one else in the neigh- 
 borhood." (Mistaken confidence, we fear.) 
 
 And now the clouds began to gather about Mrs. Smith. 
 Her dear mother was away. Her own sister, Jerome's wife, 
 had sent word to her, by the good old servant, to please to 
 return ; that she would rather see her in her grave than that 
 she should be thus situated — going from one neighbor's 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 293 
 
 house to another. This was Jerome's voice and version. 
 Do we, need we, wonder at it? She had visited but two 
 neighbors besides the little house in which she fell when 
 running from Smith. And which was the more pleasing 
 sight before God and man ? a man, or a creature called a 
 man, beating his wife ; or that wife taking refuge from his 
 violence in a house or two ? Judge ye ! "We think the 
 latter far more pleasing. But these Smiths could not stop 
 people's tongues. And they dreaded so much the getting 
 abroad of the true version of the case. 
 
 But Smith's stratagem of being sick, and the thought of 
 her poor little children, especially the little baby girl, in- 
 fluenced Mrs. Smith. She had not yet found out to its 
 depths the deep deception of Smith's heart. How could 
 she? For when she repented, it was always sincere repent- 
 ance. How else could she judge of another ? Though she 
 had doubts of him, yet, as this was a desperate case, a des- 
 perate wrong, might it not be a godly repentance ? She 
 rose up, and nobly resolved to go to him because he was 
 sick, and because of her little children. Still, it was against 
 her own mind and judgment on the subject. 
 
 Au enemy of hers might say, — one of Saul's house, — 
 " I wonder what would have become of her, if she had not 
 returned." We venture to say, dear enemy, if she had not 
 returned, but asserted her rights and privileges as a human 
 being, a free being, that the God of heaven would have 
 made a way for her escape, and that of her dear children, 
 better, sooner, and altogether more endurable than that 
 which she submitted herself to by going again among all 
 the enemies ever she had in her life. True, the Red Sea was 
 before her and Pharaoh's hosts behind ; but God was for 
 her, and all that she would have had to do would have been 
 to believe God instead of these evil counsellors, and gone 
 forward trusting in Him. She had a lawyer friend in the 
 25 - 
 
294 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 town referred to, of whom Smith had not known, we presume, 
 one who had known her in the town of S , when of un- 
 sullied popularity. Had he known of this man, we guess 
 he would have been more uneasy than ever. But Mrs. 
 Smith had been so long in bondage, first under inebriation 
 from a father, and then of this cruelly, unjust jealous hus- 
 band, that her mind was somewhat like the children of 
 Israel under similar circumstances. She knew not that God 
 had intended now to deliver her. She saw no Moses, and 
 hence her faith wavered. She was not as strong as Abra- 
 ham in that grace. But if she could have been left alone, 
 this would have been her course, even if she went to see 
 the sick man, and left again. But yielding her own judg- 
 ment again, to her own detriment, she, in company with 
 two or three ladies, and the old gentleman spoken of before, 
 rode over to Smith's residence. Oh, how changed every- 
 thing ! There were her cotton patch and her orchard, no 
 longer possessing any interest or beauty for her eyes. And 
 when they got to the threshold of Smith's residence, some 
 obnoxious persons were within ; some enemies of hers, for 
 whom Smith had sent during her absence because he, poor 
 fellow, was sick. How sick ? Of the devil and sin. Ought 
 not Mrs. Smith to have known by this how the thing stood, 
 and what he was after ? Why did she not fly again and 
 leave him to these to hug to his soul forever, and leave her 
 alone? As it was, while they remained, she would not enter 
 the den of the lion. She went oif, highly insulted, and sat 
 on the fence that ran towards the little branch. As she 
 passed, the good cook said : 
 
 " Miss Grace, do, if you please, remain at home." 
 
 " Let me alone," she replied. " You know not what I 
 have suffered." 
 
 The kind old gentleman followed her and begged her to 
 return. 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 295 
 
 "Mr. H said slie, "you, nor any other mortal, 
 
 know notliing of tiie thousandth part I have suffered from 
 this family. And then, in my absence, to send for those 
 ■whom he knows would have me killed, if they dared ! And 
 did she not slander my own sister, her uncle's wife, and her 
 own husband? No, I will not return while they are in 
 that house ; I will die first. They shall not have everything 
 their own way with me, their victim." 
 
 What else she said we do not remember. By this time 
 she had waxed eloquent, being fired up by the sight of those 
 designing persons. But when they left, she went in ; the old 
 gentleman all the time trying to persuade her, which this time 
 had not much efiect ; for she never would have returned if 
 they had remained. Smith was lying on his back on the 
 'bed in their room, apparently very sick. As soon as he 
 saw his wife, he turned hastily to her, and said : 
 
 " Come here, my dear. I have treated you very meanly. 
 Will you forgive me ? God has forgiven me." 
 
 So much calling "my dear" on this black occasion ! We 
 are not sure God forgave him. We are of a difierent 
 opinion. Nor do we think it is forgiven yet, because never 
 repented of in the right manner. And no restitution was 
 ever made. Meanly is a poor word for his treatment. If 
 he had said " murderously," it would have been more defi- 
 nitely the true word. Perhaps he had no proper sense of 
 the atrocity of his deed. If he had, he did not have grace 
 to properly acknowledge it. Acknowledge, indeed ! The 
 veritable old servant of a former chapter said, "Before 
 master would publicly acknowledge this wrong, he would 
 drop down into hell. I knows 'em. Miss Grace ; needn't tell 
 me ! they'd a great deal sooner beat you for telling the ever- 
 lasting truth than to acknowledge they'd done wrong." And 
 ■we found the old negro told about the true tale, the true way 
 of their doings. . . . And then, when she was within his un- 
 holy walls again, he began to arouse in a moment of time. 
 
296 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 The language of wounded pride was certainly his, for he 
 began to tell how popular he had been in a county of the 
 old State where he had formerly lived. How, when con- 
 stituted an officer in that county, his neighbors and friends 
 flocked around him, and almost pulled him off his horse. 
 This was long before the tocsin of war was ever sounded 
 in our own country, and he was made an officer of the mili- 
 tia. But what that circumstance had to do with his present 
 conduct, we could not see, unless he was recounting how 
 popular he once had been, and now how fallen ! But be 
 of good cheer, Mr. Smith. "Whipping your innocent wife 
 won't damn you here, if it does in another world. He 
 talked on, however, in this strain, while the company re- 
 mained. All were in tears but Mrs. Smith. She knew the 
 sound too well, and again had misgivings. Of one thing 
 she was sure — he would never raise hands against her 
 again. But she was doubtful of him otherwise. 
 
 As soon as their company left. Smith got up from his sick 
 bed. He was well now. He had got the bird back again 
 in the cage. Poor, fluttering heart! It mattered not to 
 him now that she shed no tears while he was glorifying him- 
 self, and telling of former popularity, while all the others 
 were shedding tears at hearing his words. Never mind, 
 poor heart, you will have plenty to shed for yourself and 
 your children in time. 
 
 Smith could not do enough, it seemed. He told Mrs. 
 Smith how he had fainted, and fallen upon the steps on the 
 Sabbath; and, being eager to have the bed made on which 
 he had been lying, did not, or would not, wait for the ser- 
 vant-girl to be called in to attend to it, but lifted the bed 
 off himself, stirred the under bedding, and made it all up 
 nicely, so that his rescued victim might rest from her great 
 fatigue and weariness of body and mind. Ye gods ! not 
 much rest will she get on that befouUed bed; for is it not 
 
AXD HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 297 
 
 like a bird befoulling liis own nest, to speak of private mat- 
 ters, and tlien run wild to get tlie mate-bird to tlie filtliy 
 nest? But wliat cared lie tor that, so lie repossessed the 
 bird? 
 
 For nearly nine long years liad Mrs, Smith as much as 
 possible kept this infernal injustice of Smith, about others, 
 to herself — locked within her own breast. And if it had 
 not been for his insane and very reprehensible imprudence, 
 it would have forever remained there, or descended to the 
 grave with her, and gone into the other world, ^vith her lips 
 sealed on this subject. So little was it known, that persons 
 without were ^^erfectly astonished — persons who had seen 
 them together, and thought they esteemed one another so 
 very much. This was indeed true on her part — so long as 
 she could excuse and forgive his private injuries and abuses. 
 But after the thing through him got out, which she had so 
 sedulously guarded, especially from her foes of the house- 
 hold, how could she, if she could help it, let them know that 
 their father was thus daily and nightly torturing her, when, 
 if they did know it, they would rejoice over it, and make 
 it twofold more difficult to get obedience from the ser- 
 vants already slack in their duty, when headed by these 
 willing allies in an insubordinate family? The father, the 
 son and daughter, and servant, were all too mtich for one 
 poor little woman. But now Smith and the devil had got 
 it out, and she was not righted. She had al-ways determined 
 that at some future day, in God's own time, her version of 
 the story should go abroad through all the earth. And let 
 him liho dares, contradict it. AVho will own such a sire as 
 Smith? We know no such man. And yet all this tale is 
 as true as the sun ever shone — but the name. But there 
 was a real name, and it could be given, if necessary. 
 
 "We have, during our progress through these pages of sor- 
 row, often reverted to the conduct of gentlemen — of the 
 
298 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 treatment of some towards woman. Shall we paint our 
 ideal of a man f man made in the image of his Maker ? 
 "We cannot have all tall men, unless physiology was more 
 attended to — as the wise husbandman pays attention to 
 and selects the seeds that are to bring him the finest pro- 
 ductions. But we would have our ideal full five feet ten 
 inches, or six feet. Tall and manly, massive brow, and 
 powerful intellect. It matters not so much whether he has 
 a ruddy, fair skin, as a fair heart. He must rank among 
 white people, however, as we have no fancy for the sable 
 color — though his honest cheeks might be bronzed by the 
 sun of heaven, and yet be glorious to look upon in our 
 eye. He must be nohle in every pulsation of his heart. 
 Magnanimous and brave. Brave enough to do right under 
 all circumstances. We care not if he is a philosopher, a 
 lawyer, a prophet, a priest, or a minister of the gospel, a 
 merchant or mechanic, or day-laborer, or sailor on the 
 mighty deep, or a lord. But lie must be a Christian. And 
 if a husband, one who had knowledge enough to view the 
 marriage relation in its true sense ; would love his wife — 
 as Christ loved the church — enough to lay down his life 
 for her, if necessary. Anticipating all her wants and 
 wishes, sure of having his own anticipated in return. A 
 man whose whole delight, next to his Maker, is his wife. 
 Who ever looks upon her as the joy of his life, the light of 
 his eye, and pride of his heart. Yea, happy is that man 
 that is in such a state. There is so much more that might 
 be said of this man, language would fail us to describe him. 
 He is like the cedars of Lebanon. He is like the angels. 
 He is like the good God, the great Father. He looks down 
 with smiles upon his loved ones, and beautiful is his glorious 
 face — reflection of his Maker. He looks, and imparts 
 happiness and bliss in all his household. None grow sor- 
 rowful and gloomy on beholding him. But the beatitude 
 
AND HUSKS OF STTINE. 
 
 299 
 
 of his manlr, godlike face spreads liglit and sunshine all 
 around. The tread of his feet is music in one pair of ears 
 at least, and mayhap in many others, if there are little ones 
 to share the joys of this image of a father made of God. 
 Thus high is he in our picture-gallery. And "^vhat -woman 
 ■would not worship such a man as this next to her God, her 
 Maker? 
 
 The reverse of this character of man is already painted 
 in the hero of these pages — Smith. "Well, do you iiovi 
 ■want our description of the good "woman — the whole 
 ■^•oman? AVe can hardly describe her. The good man can 
 sooner find her than we can fully depict her. As is the 
 man, so is the ■woman. She must be everything that is 
 noble, great, and good. The Scriptures are replete with her 
 picture. The thirty-first chapter of Proverbs contains a 
 beautiful painting of her. Sarah, of old Testament memory, 
 is held forth as a model to us, in obeymg Abraham, calling 
 him Lord. The only objection we have to Abraham is that 
 of his obeying Sarah to the spoiling of the peace of the 
 family, in the case of Hagar. And, consequently, we do 
 not consider Sarah as perfect a sample as we might find in 
 this century. Glorious things are spoken of the women of 
 Zion, and much praise do they deserve in this day and time. 
 But not those who are so graphically described in the third 
 chapter of Isaiah. "Moreover the Lord saith. Because the 
 daughters of Zion are haughty, and walk with stretched 
 forth necks and wanton eyes, walking and mincing as they 
 go, and making a tinkling with their feet: therefore the 
 Lord will smite with a scab the crown of the head of the 
 daughters of Zion. ... In that day the Lord will take 
 away the bravery of their tinkling ornaments about their 
 feet, and their cauls, and their round tires like the moon, 
 the chains, and the bracelets, and the mufflers, the bonnets, 
 and the ornaments of the legs, and the headbands, and the 
 
300 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 tablets, and the earrings, the rings and nose jewels, the 
 changeable suits of ajiparel, and the mantles, and the wim- 
 ples, and the crisping-pins, the glasses, and the fine linen, 
 and the hoods, and the vails. And it shall come to pass, 
 that instead of sweet smell there shall be stink ; and instead 
 of a girdle a rent; and instead of well-set hair baldness; 
 and instead of a stomacher a girding of sackcloth ; and 
 burning instead of beauty. . . . And she being desolate 
 shall sit upon the ground." 
 
 Have we not suffered- enough? Why invoke any more 
 curses upon devoted heads by folly and vanity? During 
 the late war that swept over our country like a whirlpool 
 of destruction that had drawn within its dread vortex all 
 our interests, our daughters vowed they would no more wear 
 those goods coming from whence they considered all their 
 troubles came. No sooner was the war over, than those 
 very daughters vied with one another to see who could pile 
 the most of this costly finery on. Beautiful silks, three 
 yards long in some cases, to trail the ground in the dust. 
 And we have heard of one-thousand and three-thousand 
 dollar dresses for some of our daughters. And on one oc- 
 casion we saw the nodding of a plume, half-way down to 
 the shoulders of a lady, in a place where hundreds, and 
 perhaps thousands, of the sister womanhood were almost 
 starving for bread. "We mentally said, Will she plough 
 the fiery deep for these gewgaws, and let her sister woman 
 perish almost at her door? 
 
 What does all this bespeak? A mighty sore, an ulcer, 
 a deadly -eating cancer somewhere. Some people think 
 cancers can never be cured. Well, then, are our daughters 
 ^one? It is not for us to regulate or dictate the dress of a 
 nation. But while a nation is under a curse already, does " 
 it behoove it to riot in luxury and pride, and let their 
 fellow-beings sufier for the very necessaries of life? And 
 
AND HrSE:s OF SWIXE. 
 
 301 
 
 vrould it not have been more in accordance with good taste 
 alone,, for us to have paid more attention to essential points, 
 and left superfluous ones alone? Would it not have recom- 
 mended itself to our Maker? We talk not of the proud 
 oppressor. We would not humble ourselves to him, but to 
 our Maker? Tastv dress and neat dress, by all means, but 
 none of your Alps and Adas mountain heights heaped upon 
 our poor frail bodies, to the utter disfigurement thereof, an 
 offence in the sight of heaven, and, if the smell of earth 
 goes up to heaven instead of sweet, a stink ; because in this 
 pile of finery may be the blood and bones of some of those 
 hated ones whom God has left here to try your virtue by. 
 '•'The poor ye have always with you ; but me ye have not 
 always."' Especially those Judases who have the bag of 
 money, and keep what is therein, and are rnighiy zealous for 
 the poor when it comes to giving to Christ, which He con- 
 siders Himself. '"'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one 
 of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto 
 me."' This subject alone is inexhaustible. Our digression, 
 therefore, will be too long, and hence we hasten on. There 
 is not much more to be said, as we are verging to the close 
 of our story for the present. 
 
 There are one or two more characters, however, we wish 
 to advert to. First, that of the bachelor — the old bachelor, 
 as he is styled. He is called an enemy to his country, be- 
 cause he has not married, and reared up children. He is 
 an honor to his country, because he has not married, and 
 raised up such children as some with which our country is 
 cursed. He is a brave man, because he has chosen to sufier 
 alone, rather than bring some good woman into suffering, 
 and because he has not married as Smith did, and buried 
 one wife in the prime of her life, and then tried to abuse 
 another to death. 
 
 Second, the single woman. How heroic she is, to be and 
 26 
 
302 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN, 
 
 continue all alone, treading her solitary way through life, 
 rather than marry an uncongenial brute of a man to be 
 misused all her life, and not only suffer herself, but have 
 her helpless offspring in such a condition that they must 
 suffer also. We do not mean the ordinary suffering that 
 comes to the lot of all mankind, but those extraordinary 
 troubles that grow out of the unbridled passions of mankind, 
 such as jealousy and drunkenness, and a host of others that 
 might be named that come of legalized prostitution; for 
 where a man acts the brute towards the woman he marries, 
 it is legal prostitution. We can make nothing less of it. 
 It is not marriage as God intended it. 
 
 And now, dear reader, we will prepare to bid you good- 
 by for a time. At some future time, if it is deemed suit- 
 able, and we have opportunity, we will present the sequel 
 of this Bread of Heaven, and Husks of Swine ; or the Curse 
 of Jealousy to you. We have touched on some points of 
 interest, as they occurred to us in our progress through 
 these pages, and now hasten to take our leave of Smith and 
 Mrs. Smith for the present. We have heard of the widows 
 of China being burned on the funeral pile of their deceased 
 husbands while the warm blood still coursed through their 
 veins. What is that to the torture both of body and soul, 
 to a fine mind, for many, many long years? In our future 
 work we expect to glance over seven long years after this 
 sad affair, to which the torture Mrs. Smith had borne before 
 was as but a drop. How he, Smith, falsified his word. 
 How he let her be persecuted to death (death of happiness !) 
 vv^ithout ever manfully clearing up the matter. Oh ye 
 Smithfield fires of England ! what are your flames compared 
 with what she bore? Ye torture and, in truth, consume 
 your victims' bodies in a few moments, or hours at' most, 
 but she was kept burning for seven long years without con- 
 suming, until death put a stop to any further persecutions 
 
AND HUSKS OF SWINE. 
 
 303 
 
 from him, and left those that he had educated for the pur- 
 pose, to continue the perpetration, and complete what he 
 had begun. In all this the smell of fire was not on her, for 
 the God of Shadrach-, Meshach, and Abednego was with 
 her. And although much distressed about him when he 
 died, and sorrowing to see him die, and sorrow for herself 
 and little ones, — for a glance through the vista of the future 
 foretold, in part, what she would suffer, — yet the word of 
 God came in this hour of distress as a visiting angel, and 
 said to her, " The heavens do rule." 
 
 All her lifetime she had wished for some blessed, conge- 
 nial spirit to love with all the ardor of her heaven-born and 
 heaven-bound soul, and to be beloved in return. And this 
 sad life Smith had led her was the return she met with in his 
 embraces, and that of his unholy family. And, oh, we could 
 this day weep over all the sorrows of mortal life till we 
 shed tears of blood, if it would avail anything. Yet are the 
 embers of hope in our breast. For we repose on the bosom 
 of God, and expect, w^ith longing eyes stretched forth, to see 
 the promise of God that the wicked shall cease from trou- 
 bling and the weary shall find rest. She is still looking 
 upon high to see if " the heavens do (indeed) rule." 
 
 All this horrid treatment of Smith towards his wife, 
 briefly sketched in the foregoing pages, was often rehearsed 
 by him to his wife in private. And he would always say 
 that he believed her to be as pure as an angel in heaven ; 
 and that he did not think there was such another woman 
 on earth so pure, so holy ; and he was sure he never loved 
 one so well before. Pity the one he loved less then. He 
 assigned as a reason for his jealousies that he did not think 
 any man could see her without loving her. And to be in 
 her company, he thought her absolutely irresistible. And 
 he did not wish any one to see her but himself, lest he might 
 love her. How he deceived himself. Love, true love, works 
 
304 
 
 BREAD OF HEAVEN. 
 
 no ill to another. But in this case the cup of matrimonial 
 bliss was put to his lips by his gracious and divine giver 
 of every good and perfect gift, (for a good wife is from the 
 Lord,) and, like an infuriated and infatuated madman, he 
 dashed it away from him, and in ten thousand pieces 
 broke the precious vessel, and let the blessing slip. . . . 
 She baptized all her sorrows with tears, and still lived on 
 and hoped on. " Hope on, hope ever," is a favorite motto, 
 nor will it be extinct while the vital spark remains in the 
 mortal tenement. A burning bush not consumed — a living 
 martyr, that will not die till called for ; from whose holy 
 ashes. Phoenix-like, we are looking for and hoping much and 
 great happiness to arise. " I am as a wonder unto many," 
 (said she,) " but thou art my strong refuge. Thou, who 
 hast showed me great and sore troubles, shalt quicken me 
 again, and shalt bring me up again from the depths of the 
 earth. Thou shalt increase my greatness, and comfort me 
 on every side." Thus shall it be with the man or woman 
 who makes the Lord his trust. 
 
 Kate Mueray. 
 
 THE END. 
 
Date Due 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Torm o35. 45M 8-37. 
 
613^49 M932B 314953 
 Murr ay 
 
 Bre ad of Heaven and 
 
 Hiisks of Sw ine 
 
 ISSUED TO 
 
 313. 49 M982B 314953