Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1849-05-17

sihcso oiept gradually over inc, duu Sotne-
thing like the presence of death came,
feeling of fear and dislike to the grave a.
woke. Life suddenly seemed warm, bright
and delightful; innumerable happy scenes,
which had recently been planning, appear
ed TO come into very existence around me
with most tempting brillancy, which
thrilled all the powers Of grief and despair
within me; for l had known so little of
happiness yet in life. I reasoned, and now
at last, when | might be capable of glad
denng others and myself, just now to die.
Fool-fool, do you yet choose dying
Will you not swallow this! You will have
money enough remaining after you give me
my share-you will have number of thou
sands still, and you are young, and made
for enjoying happiness"
Though | knew Savall must have uttered
the words, yet even now, as l recollect
them, it seemed as if invisible spirits a.
round me had spoken them, divining my
thoughts, and counseing me accordingly.
Next recolect there was deep, fright
ful silence; heard no one single sound
no clock striking-no voice speaking or cal
ling-not one imitation that | was in the
midst of many-peopled, noisy city
could not believe that was in London
thought had been carried away to some
deep abyss, down, down below the surface
of the living world, in the centre fthe cold,
voiceless earth, away far from all human So
cety, with only one of the black spirits of
evil guarding me. For some moments
faucied | was condemned for ever to that
terrible fate, with the eyes of Saval alone
to look upon me without ceasng through
out all duration.
Afterwards widely Indifferent Imagination
possessed me with even "A stronger power.
thought behed most wildly all the scene
ry connected with the solitary country place
in the north of Ireland where | was born !;
the narrow river, the rocks and trees hang
ing over it the very boat in which | had
SO often rowed with well-remembered oar
the rough, uncultivated mountain, rising
abruptly from the water, with the rich, lux
uriant, yellow furze, and the goats brows-
ing, ust as they used TO do when | was Il
boy, before had dreamed of leading lit
erary life in London-even the glass in the
windows of my fathers house shone and
sparkled exactly as it always did in the beau
tiful summer sunsets. | could have sworn
that the whole scene was before me; but
was not gazing on it with the human feel
ings had when there last-lt was with such
emotions as the dsembodied may be sup.
posed to experience that now looked.
Miserable fool idiot you still per-
sist in choosing death in preference to life.
Come, it is not even yet too late for wis
dom; one draught, and you are safe and
better than you were before-here"
My intellect become SO confused that
was barely conscious of the presence Of
Savall, and aware that he had come close
to me, and holding lumber almost to my
lips.
Again the strong feeling of immediate
death came overpoweringly upon me, ming.
led with vision of all those whom | Low.
ed my relations and friends in another
country, they came to my very side,
thought, with anxious, fearful looks, ioI
they seemed aware that / was dying; and
there close, very close, was my mothers
pale face, and her sobs were loud and con.
vulsive; and there was my old and attached
f uncle, from whom had been named, ant
who had always been so deeply interested
in me, and so anxious to hear Of my ma
king IA noise in the world he was hanging
over my shoulder, and he was weeping qui
l ety without saying one word but there
! was such deep agony in his eyes that
would have given worlds to comfort him
but, more striking to me than any even o
the forms of my nearest kindred, was fair
= soft, young girls face-the face of one
loved. She came close, very close to me
| thought, and laid her hand on my brow
and the pressure of that hand was so warn
! and liie-like, that death became still NOR,
ieariully dark and repulsiye.
e At this period think had no remain
b ing consciousness, in the way of reasoning
: all my faculties were existing merely in thu
: life OF dreams. l cannot, therefore, stat
y with any certainty what passed for man,
n hours afterwards, but have felt kind o
y recollection of glass being held TO IN
| lips, 1t must have been by Savall, and
d drank with no reluctance, but with delight
S and then fell back Oh the sofa much happi
S er than had been.
AT last | awoke to perfect consciousness:
It l started up, wondering at first, why | wa
e there in darkened room, with broad day
!, light streaming in through the shutters
J. took me some moments to remember tn
e scenes of the preceding night. My frs
| thought was to search for my pocket-boo
n it was gone. Next missed my watcl
it was new and valuable one not one 81,
e pence of loose cash was left in any of m
l. pockets, SO well had Savall ransacked m
l. person during the period ofmy unconsciou:
II ness.
e opened the shutters, and looked around
n there were the glasses standing on the tabl
!, precisely as they had been the night beior
1t the silver spoons, and some other valu'
N Bile articles, however, were not there.
d A strange sensation of giddness was i
ID my head, and felt as feeble as when fir:
n rising from my sick bed but was not az
prehensive of danger, for believed, and
s. suppose truly, that Saval had administers
/" to me not poison, but some powerful marco
ic or supplying drug, in order that he migl
b. possess himself quietly of my coveted pool
c, e.-book supposed that he had represen
r ed to Inc that he had given me poison, ft
ID the malignant purpose of Tightening M
h. His story of the antidote he possessed,
at hardly believed, though, on examining
IS glass which stood on the table close to II
e. sofa, found the remaining drops of SON
s. punpent but ACKNOWLEDGMENT mixtur,