Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1855-07-12

tAnd care, such as mothers lavish on
their children, 1 poured like life-blood on
her. knew that her pulses beat at my
bidding-I knew that had given her
back her life. which else had been for
felt, and that l was her preseryer.
almost worshipped her. 1t was the
worship of my whole being-the tide in
to which the pent up sentiment of my
long years of unloving philanthropy,
poured like boundless food. 1t was
my life that / gave her--my destiny
that l saw in her-my deliyerer from
the curse of sin, and had been hers
from the power of death. l asked nc
more than to be near her, to see her, to
hear her voice, to breathe the same air
with her, to guard and protect her. ]
never asked myself whether l loved as
other men or not; 1 never dreamed ol
her loving me again. 1 did not even
know her name or her condition; she
was simply the Lady to me--the one
and only woman of my world. / never
cared to analyse more than this. Ny
love was part of my innermost being,
and could as soon have imagined the
earth without its sun, as my life without
the lady. Was this love such as other
men feel? know not. l only know
there was no hopes such as other men
have. l did not question my heart of
the future; l only knew Of love-I did
not ask for happiness.
One day l went to see her as usual
She was well now; but / still kept up
my old habit of visiting her for her
health. l sat by her long time this
day, wondering, and so often wonder
ed, who it was she resembled, and where
1 had met her before, and how; for L
was certain l had seen her some time in
the past. She was lying back in an ca
sy chair-how well l remember it ALL
enyeloped in a cloud Of white drapery.
A sofa-table was drawn along the side
of her chair, with one drawer partly
open. Without any intention of look
ing, saw that it was filed with letters,
in two different handwritings, and that
two miniature cases were laying among
them. An open letter, in which lay
tress of n-bright hair, was on her knee.
1t was written in hand that made me
start and quiver. l knew the writing,
though at the moment | could not recog-
nize the writer.
Strongly agitated. took the letter in
my hand. The hair fell across my fin
gers. The darkness gathered close and
heavy, and there burst from me the self
accusing cry of "Murder!"
"No, not murdered" said the lady
"He was killed by acci-
dent. This letter is from him--my dear
twin-brother Herbert-written the very
day of his death. But what can out
weigh the blessedness of death while we
are innocent of sin F"
As she spoke, for some strange fancy
she drew the gauzy drapery round her
head. 1t fell about her, soft and white
as foam. I knew not where had seen
her before, lying as now with her sweet
face turned upwards to the sky; looking
as now, so full of purity and love; call
ing me then to innocence as now to re-
Her angel in her likeness
had once spoken to me through the
waves, as Herbert's spirit spoke to ME
in her.
"This is his portrait" she continued
opening one of the cases.
The darkness gathered closer and
closer. But fought it off bravely, and
kneeling humbly, for the first time l
was able to make my confession. told
her all. Ny love for Herbert; but my
fierce fury of temper; my sin, but also
how uni1tentional; my atonement. And
then, in the depth of my agony, l turn
ed to implore her forgiveness.
81 do, she said weeping. at was a
grievous crime--grievous, deadly-but
you have expiated it. You have re-
pented indeed by subjugation, and by
labors of mercy and good
among your fellow-men. l do forgive
you, my friend, as Herbert's spirit would
forgive YOU" And in a gayer tone,
"my beloved husband, who will return
to me to-day, will bless you too for pre-
serving his wife, and l bless you too for
me to him."
The darkness fell from me as she
kissed my hand. Yet it still shades my
life; but as warning, not as curse
a mournful past. not destroying pres
ent. Charity--an active good among
our fellow-men-can destroy the power
of sin within US; and repentance in deeds
not in tears. but in the lifelong eff
forts of rasolute man-can tighten the
blackness of crime, and remove the
curse of punishment from US. Work
and love; by these may we win our par
don, and by these stand out again in the
light.
w Our readers will remember that
tbero xvas cauathinur mvsteriOuS in the