The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1854-07-08


upon her without intcrmission, my passion
in short time became so intense that ex-
pcricnccd the widest agonies of pleasure.
Such language may perhaps Sound strange
but it expresses my condition. | was filled
with such agonizing yet plcasurablc sensations
that if nothing had occurred to allay their
ficrceness, they must inevitably have destroy
cd nc in few months.
One evening, while indulging as usual in
my reycres. a strange, wild voicerang in my
ear, and uttered distinctly three timcs--4.' She
is dead she is dead ! ! she is dead ~ The
voice was preternatural and unearthly. had
never heard it before; yet my heart told me
on the instant it referred to Dora, and that
the sad announcement was too true.
by severe training have enabled myself to
endure almost any amount of mental or phys
cal suffering. could stand by the quivcl-
ing corpse of the nearest and dearest friend
have on earth, and not shed tear, or show
by the slightest emotion asymptom Of SORROW.
Yet when the fearful tidings of the death of
that ideal loved one fell upon my ear, tho
feelings | had so long and rigidly trained re-
bellcd against me with such violence as to de-
privc me ofrcason. For amoment stood up
and faced the first wild flood of grief But
the struggle was fearful; and the storm scath-
cd me so terribly that gave way beneath it,
and bowling my head on my breast, wept as
man has seldom wcpt, and as hope never to
weep again and live. A lingering death or the
rack were far preferable to an hour of such
existence.
am confident the paroXysm of grief did
not last over thirty minutes; but in that brief
space lived an eternity of anguish! When
| became calm again, was an altered man.
In that half hour l had lived and suffered
more than ordinary men live and suffer in ~
life time. felt as though long and drcary
ages had roNct! over me, and scared AMI
shlivcIled up my nmost soul. No wonder
my friends stared at me when went out
from my room as at thing of horror.-Sn
complete change had that short space &C
time effected in my looks, thoughts and feel
mgs, that had completely lost my personal
identity and when any one addressed me by
my name, | shrank from him with as much
dislnay as the Hebrew Of old shrank from the
lepcr. That numbness of feeling which fol-
lows violent grief had taken possession of all
my faculties, and moved here and there me-
chancally, perfectly indifferent to surround
ing objects. Had been one of those persons
so kccnly sensitive ofpain or pleasure as to
be affected by every trivial event, it would
perhaps have been better for me, for then
would not have survived the shock. But
senses of touch, taste and feeling become so
buntcd and inscnsitiye, as to render their
posscssor indifferent, reckless and desperate.
While in this fearful condition, those who
are deficient 81 the moral sentiments can COM
NIT suicide, murder, or any crime without
the slightest conjunction: not flom any i'll
hcrent vileness, bnt simply because they noel
some violent excitement to convince them
them there is still vitality lingering in their
paralyzcd systems TO this class belong:
but fortunately for me, my moral sentiments
predominant over the animal propcnsitics,
and render me capable of resisting all evil
impressions and influences. In this uncnvia-
bic condition remained for weeks, and gla-
dualy returned to consciousness, like enc TO-
covering from state of long torpidity. It
was many drcary months, however, before
my faculties rcgaintd their original acutencss
and vigor, and during all this time ! was UNI
able to fully realize the fact that Dora had
been taken from me forever, and that my
heart was again desolatc.
The gloomy winter at length passed, and
when the spring came with its blue sky and
balmy breezes, genial glow began to pcrvadc
my frame, and incline me to mingle with, and
take part in, the pursuits and engagements
of my fellow men. Since then | have travel
cd much, and have made many new friends
and acquaintance. have also plunged
deeply into business, and became cngrossed
with its cares and perplcxitics. pass among
the crowd for cool, calculating individual,
passing my years; and but few who, form my
acquaintance, ever obtain glimpse beneath
the exterior of my character, or fancy for IL
moment that I, who am SO collected and phil
osophic under every emergency, have ever
been an enthusiast and dreamer, and the
victim of such terrible infatuation.
Yct-and am almost ashamed to confcss
it-therc are still times when rca son myself
into the belief that my Dora could not have
been altogether an ideal; and then do l wan
der off to seek amongst grassy hooks and beds
of modest wild-aowcrs for the spot where
they have laid her. For know they would
make grave for one who was so lovely, in
some quiet, outof.the-way place, where none
but the farcst flowers bloom, and where the
birds warblc only their sweetest notes But
alas! l seek in vain; for the ideal Dora, and
her quiet grave, have never existed save in
my imagination.
nT1t having been stated that tho Hon