" I sought for
comfort in a Godless and Christless philosophy, but sought in vain. I
tried to extort from nature some word of consolation, but not a whisper
could I obtain. I tried to forge some theory of my own that might lessen
the gloom in which I was wrapt; but my efforts were fruitless. The light
of life was quenched; the joy, the bliss of being was no more. I had
"forsaken the fountain of living waters," and nothing remained but
broken cisterns that could hold no water. I was wretched; and, apart
from God, and Christ, and immortality, my wretchedness was incurable;
and the sense of my wretchedness prepared me, and ultimately constrained
me, to look once more in the direction of the religion that had cheered
me in my earlier days.
10. I had a great and grievous trial of another kind while in Nebraska.
When we removed to that far-off country, we left our eldest son in Ohio
to look after our interests there, and to send off to us what goods we
might require in our new home. The river Ohio, down which our goods had
to be sent, was low at the time, and the steamer on which they were
placed, while racing recklessly with another steamer, struck on a rock
and was wrecked. There were over a thousand volumes of my books on
board, the best and principal part of my library; nearly all my
manuscripts too were on board, and much other property, amounting in
value to twelve or thirteen hundred pounds; over $6,000; and nearly all
was lost, or irreparably damaged.
Pages:
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550