The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1868-02-13
MADMAN'S STORY
by T. II. S. EsCoTT.

Did / love her? you ask. Better,
yes, better than nv life. Then why
but stay; wait my story and you shall
know all. Quietly, calmly, soberly !
will tell you all. You smile; you think
I cannot; you call me mad. Nay, not
50. But you point to the cell in which
we are seated,--to the high walls be-
yond, which bar egress,-to the plteouss
forms outside bowling, in the agony OF
their impotence, iheir hands to and fro.
What of that! what of all this which
YOU see and tell me OFF Do these things
prove me TO be madman? Listen:
say to you, that in the huge city yon-
der, beyond the precincts OF this &C
cursed prison.house, there wander at
large in the streets and in the thorough
fare men and women madder, ay, mad
der far, than any imprisoned here. Is
not all their life ono vast expanse OF
madness They weave, and the robe
thus woven is one Of laughter, deris-
ion, and scorn: they spend all their
| lives in sowing, and yet they never
reap. Fame, name, wealth-day after
day, night after night they strive for
these. Ceasclessly, painfully, feverish-
1ly a little heap of gilded chatf is got to,
gether; then comes the wAirlwind OF
sorrow and death, and sweeps it--pool
fools all away. 1t is coming all the
time they might know it from afar OIL
and vet see it not. This--this Is
madness--madness preordained ofGod
the worst and most fearful there car
be. Thinking then of this, tell me mo-
that l am mad. The heart is the bool
Of the German sage; it will not let its
elf be read.
But if be not madman, you wan
to know how came to do what lhav'
done? With soberness, calmness. de
liberation did it. Hear me, how qul
etly speak to you; think you, then
that l was a madmen when / act
edp '.
Why loved her l do not know; b.
what slow stages grew to find that al
my life. all my soul was absorbed il
hers, I cannot tell you. A face beauti
full and brightas thai Of an angel,
heart pure and spotless as a sunny sum
mer sky, a voice, whose every wor'
was a note of music--these surely wer
fl reasons for love. And so gradual
did the spirit of love take whole pos
session Of my brain and being yet, fror
the first, believe me, knew well hoy
it would all end. You may place n
trust in presentiments neither do | il
the presentiments of all men alike
But there are some-I am assured 0
it-with whom to feel ominously, i
! however vague a manner, is to know
You cannot apply one and the sell
same rnle to the spiritual organizatlo
of all. Your presentiments may en'
as they arose, in vanity or nothingness
} not 80 mine. Throughout life l hav
J ever been able to discern the futur
clearly looming through the present
throughout my life have been able t
hear in the midst ofsounds Of mirth an
ljoy, Of happiness and laughter, the vi
! ering footsteps Of coming doom. Wit
i. some men the senses have q power q
t which those who have not felt it canne
!. dream. In the deep darkness OF th
8 night they can hear the death-watc
ticking in distant walls--can hear til
Y | palpitstion of some loved ones heal
when she whom they loved is far r'
moved. With me it was not the senses
!. bu. the mind-or shall call II the spi
\ Iit2-which attained this morbid deve
1 lopihcnt.' Aud so, even In those BILE
|sesl hours Of sunset, when my darlin