The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 7, March, 1835Various
History
The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 7, March, 1835
Various
American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals
Mary was so stunned with the language she heard that it was sometime
before she could speak at all; and as the surprise abated, she was
almost choked with the anger and indignation swelling in her bosom.
Generous and placable as her temper was, she had a proud sensibility
to what she thought an unjust and degrading treatment, which did not
permit her to suppress the violence of her first emotions. Her
language accordingly for a moment was such as these emotions prompted.
But her good sense, and her regard for Jonathan, whose qualities as a
good husband she had long experienced, soon gained an ascendancy, and
changed her tone to that of sober reasoning and affectionate
expostulation. Well, my dear husband, you see what a passion you had
put me into. But it is over now, and I will endeavor to express my
thoughts with the calmness and good feelings which become the relation
of wife and husband.
As to the case of providing for our child just coming of age, I shall
say but little. We both have such a tender regard for him and such a
desire to see him on a level with his brethren as to the chance of
making his fortune in the world, that I am sure the difficulties which
have occurred will in some way or other be got over.
But I cannot pass so lightly over the reproaches you cast on the color
of my left arm; and on the more frequent appointment of my tenants
than of yours, to the head stewardship of our joint estates.
Now as to the first point; you seem to have forgotten, my worthy
partner, that this infirmity was fully known to you before our
marriage, and is proved to be so by the deed of settlement itself. At
that time you made no objection whatever to our union; and indeed how
could you urge such an objection, when you were conscious that you
yourself was not entirely free from a like stain on your person. The
fatal African dye, as you well know, had found its way into your abode
as well as mine; and at the time of our marriage, had spots and specks
scattered over your body as black as the skin on my arm. And although
you have by certain abrasions and other applications, taken them in
some measure out, there are visible remains which ought to soften at
least your language when reflecting on my situation. You ought surely,
when you have so slowly and imperfectly relieved yourself from the
mortifying stain, although the task was comparatively so easy, to have
some forbearance and sympathy with me who have a task so much more
difficult to perform. Instead of that you abuse me as if I had brought
the misfortune on myself, and could remove it at will; or as if you
had pointed out a ready way to do it, and I had slighted your advice.
Yet so far is this from being the case, that you know as well as I do,
that I am not to be blamed for the origin of the sad mishap; that I am
as anxious as you can be to get rid of it; that you are as unable as I
am to find out a safe and feasible plan for the purpose; and moreover,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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