Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1849-03-02

hought he and he felt a savage pride IN the
election.
Colder and darker came on the night
nd Tristan waited still. A dreaminess, a
orpor seemed to cramp his energies, making
hem uneaual even to that last effort OF all.
A mist was over his eyes; yet still he saw
its gathering folds the dark waving
rhostly trees--the stars overhead and the
calm ripping waves below.
AS, uncertain still, he seemed to lean over
the p~arapet, he felt it give way. A shudder
an unconscious and vain effort to spring
back-and the waters had drawn him m
The terrible refuge which he sought had OF
itself opened its doors 10 receive him-and
there was no retreat!
As in dreams we sometimes feel ourselves
plunging deeper and deeper into an abyss
which we know 10 be fathomless and yet
experience no terror, no pain-So Tristan
sank. He seemed to feel the cool dark waters
above him, around him, folding him in an
embrace which he knew was that of death
and vet the parting of soul and body brought
no agony. lie thought it would have been a
terrible pang but it felt only like the loosen
ing of a burthen-the putting off of a robe.
He would not believe in the reality of the
immortal change.
Tristan felt himself rising up-up to the
surface of the river. A faint idea haunted
him that it was always so with the drown
ing, whom the wave tauntingly casts forth
once or twice-giving a chance of life before
it swallows them in forever. He might have
one. more sight Of the real world, before en-
terinr into the land of shadows, on whose
verge he stood. He could not reconcile TO
himself the truth that he had already passed
through the eternal gate-for he had yet
powers of thought and sense. He heard the
murmur Of the little waves-and saw the stars
shining through the waters.
He reached the suTface-he resolved to
make one struggle and raise himself from
that dark ABYSS. But there was no need
As easily as a winged thought, Tristan felt
himself ~disengaged from the waters and
floating above them with the lightness of a
bird. Then he knew that the mysterious
change had indeed passed over him-that he
was no longer a living man, but a spirit.
And there, waited powerlessly to and fro
by the eddies Of the river with a motion that
awfully simulated life, lay the thing which
had been Tristan! The soul shuddered as it
looked upon that dead form 1T knew then
what was the guilt OF Murder. Aye, though
this had been its own mortal dwelling place
which il had destroyed, or wished TO destroy,
still it was murder! How dared he to dar-
ken with that terrible glazed stare the orbs
into which but three hours ago beloved and
most loving eyes had looked, seeking there
a reflected image-knowing well that as that
image dwelt in his eyes so it dwelt in his
heart, and blest that knowledge ITO cast
among the dark weeds the bright hair where
her fingers had a right to stray-the lips
which her S had a right to press? Oh! II
was a sin, a deadly sin; and he-the spirit
of the dead Tristan-felt it to be so, now.-
Parted from its mortality-from that chain
which by the might Of the senses had drag
ged it down from all higher impulses-the
soul knew wherein it had erred. Yet some
thing of the selishness of its earthly nature
encountered it still.
'It was a bitter and a heartless ' world tc
me = thought he-for the spirit of Tristan
was Tristan still 81 ever sought for gooC
therein, and found none. My friends tempt
ed me with kindness, and left me to starve
my very flesh and blood set their faces a
gainst me l doubted Love itself-and ha'
| not cause? And now, what soul is Their
living that thinks of the one this night thrus
into the dark land of n~othingness! Woul
/ knew
And with that desire came the knowledg
of all the power that is possessed by a dis
embodied spirit. The shadow ioated on tn
> wings CT the night over the sleeping city
and found itself at the entrance of a house
Il which Tristan had crept not twelve houl
r. before--a blot of insignificant misery on i
threshold-a butt for the underlings' i'll col
. cealed scorn. SO deemed he then-and
IL rejoicing pride thrilled through the spir
now, as, defying all human power, all bars
n pomp and ceremony; he passed into the i
nermost chamber. The man he sought S
there, with his wife by his side.
Tristan had never seen that face but whit
re its lines were made harsh by the pressure
h worldly cares. He could hardly believe
was the same that now wore a pleasant, kin
n ly smile-or that the voice which now chattt
ID about lively domestic ~nothings was the We
is tone that sounded so cautious and severe
ne mong the array of ledgers and cheque booI
ID in a little dark office. Yet there they werC
the cold man of business and his fashionab
~ wife, looking contented, home like, ~affectio
er ale-talking together after the day was don
Even among the dazzling splendors of tn
OF luxurious abode shone the little glow-wor
lamp Of domestic love.
TO The lady was taking out her watch-'N
re dear, | think we have had talk enough for I
as night. Only before we go TO bed l just wa
a ted TO know about that poor young man WI
IT. came as we were going out to dinner :-Tri
Dr. tan, was it not?
W. Yes; the wild scapegrace of a fellow
- proud, there is no doing anything for him.
And yet l would help him if | could, for
un dead fathers sake.'
he What did he come forP
~ q could hardly make out; for he stopp
d. me in the hall, and | told him to come
morrow, for | was busy (and you know Fl
,s ma, how that matter of poor Williamson
'eP bankruptcy had occupied me all day.) B
H. young Tristan spoke so ~fiercely-almc
iLy threateningiy-that it vexed me and | TO
s oe him he had better not call again until
. could treat with c%ivility the best friend
.me had
~ Poor fellow perhaps he was in war
! ~ oat1 tho la1u na@1ly, IL 1an1-.1 I'LL -