The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1848-10-07
A Life Episode.
BT DINAH MARIA NULoCK

OF which the reader may believe Just as
much as be chOoses-thOugh for my part
believe it all. Not its mere outside earb-
the drspery in which We pen-artists enfold
our mOdel-truths, which we may arrange eX-
sctly as We please-but the deep world
wide verify Of human feeling that lies be-
meath, and is etemally the same.
The man whose life-episode | purpose
here to enlold, was one whom you might
have met any day in a London street, park,
or omnibus, and not have known that he
was different from other men. Perhaps,
reader, when you peruse this episode you
will be astOnished that | thus take from It's
hero every romantic accessory that could
throw a halo around him, and reconcile in
sdegee the strange mingling Of real and
ideal which OvershadOws him. | might
have clothed him in a Roman toga, instead
of plain brOadclOth. | might have placed
his existence in the dark ages where mystic
ries abounded. But, no!-life is as true,
as earnest as full of wild romance and
deep spirituality in these so-called matter.
offsct days as in those upon which We look
back through the all-hallo wing shadows Of
the past Il not the inward life OF every
one a mystery!-The poet whom you meet
looking Just like any other man-ready to
dine, to talk about the weather or the state
of Europe; yet the next day, when in yOIr
solitude you glance over his silent page
the inner depths Of whose heart, mingling
with yours, lift your soul into communion
with the Infinite. The artist with whom
you may shake hands and interchange ordi-
nary chat and anon, looking at whose
work, you become transported into the glo-
riOus ideal world which his genius has Gre
ated, in which ''the shadowy people Of the
realm Of dream" grow visible. Are not
these things mysterious: as deep and
strange as were ever dealt in by necroman-
GERS OF old!
Therefore let the reader not start at the
contrast which may jar against his sense Of
the supernatural when take for my hero a
man of this age in every respect. His name
is-no, he shall have feigned name; the
same as the moumful mother-queen Mar.
guerite gave to her newborn babe at Dam
ietts-Tnstsu. Ii suits vel, for this man
was one most sorrowful. Let him, then
be Tristan
He was a man weighed down by cares:
what these were il is needless here TO relate
You may meet as | have said, his Likeness
many a time in London streets; and in the
faded dress, the heavy listless gait,-the eye
which never seeks the sky but always the
ground,-as if there alone were rest-you
may recognize a brother to whom life ha:
been full OF thons. Oh, be thankful and
rejoice if your hand has planted none lol
him or for his fellows?
Tristan walked along in the soft sunny
light Of June evening" time most Joy,
Gus in country lanes and fields, but in Lon
don bringing only sadness. He passed
through the dull close West End Streets
where the heated air was never stirred by
one fresh evening breeze, and not shade o.
the glorious sunset was visible save one faini
golden sparkle on a church tower near
Tristan saw neither gloom nor light. His
eyes were blinded-his heart was pressed
down-with misery. 80
He found himself crossing the green
sward towards the Serpentine River. II
glittered in the sunlight, like beacon
and his eyes were opened nov. lie saw il;
he would have rushed towards it with the
speed of hunted deer flying 10 distant
shelter,-but be dared not 1t seemed a.
if every passer by cried out to him--"Man,
whittier goest thou?''
- The answer to- that question belonged
not to time, but to eternity.
ra-i aes