Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1872-06-14
~ LOVE WITH An IDIOT.

My fortune placed me above the necessity
of adopting a profession, but | became, from
choice, student of medicine, and it was
during the year which spent at Dublin
while in attendance on public lectures, that
the circumstance occurred which has robbed
me OF myself.
Ii was my habit 10 pass much of my time
in the hospital, where the effect Of different
diseases upon the various phases Of human
character, as well as upon the diverse physi-
cal constitution, afforded me an interesting
subject Of speculation. was one day pass
ing through one of the sheltered walks in the
garden, when head a sweet and plantiye
voice singing what appeared % me To be
snatches Of old ballads. The sounds came
from shubbery IN the grounds appropriat-
ed to the lunatic patients, and separated from
the rest OF the garden bya high wall. Sal;ed
upon a rustic bench, with single ray of
sunshine piercing the deep shade, and rest
ing Ike halo upon her bright hair. was
young girl, 50 fair. 50 pure. 80 pale, - ether
cal in the delicate proportions Of her figure,
that almost feared the image WAS an illl-
sion Of fancy. Her large blue eyes We're wand
ering restlesslv around while She sung and ere
| had time to retreat met their full glance.
Instead Of being alarmed at my intrusion,
sweet smile parted her soft lips, and raising
her finger, she beckoned me 10 approach. 81
have waited long, beloved, but YOU have
come at last, she murncred in low broken
tanes. as she drew me 70 a seat beside her
then clasping my hand in hers, she fixed her
gaze on my face with look - fall Of solemn
tenderness that my very soul thrilled beneath
it.
soon found that the fair cir. 5 reason was
entirely obscurei. and her insanity seemed
to have assumed the almost hopeless form Of
imbecility. But her pure and beautiful in
stiucts were as fresh and powerful as il intel
lect were still their guide. She was tender,
gentle, and full Of that confling innocence
which knows no evil and suspects 10 guile.
When We parted, which We did with a mu-
tual promise Of again meeting, retired o
my lodging in a state Of excitement such a.
had rarely known, and my first care was
to learn something Of her history. found
she had been from childhood dull and inert
of intellect: that it had been only with ex-
ceeding labor that she had been taught the
elements Of knowledge; and that her mind
seemed 10 become more obtuse a. she grew
older. until q severe fit Of sickness which be-
lel her ere she attained her fifteenth year,
completely Ohscured her reason. Ipcn fur
ther inquiry | learned that she had been an
affectionate and depending creature. always
looking for love in every one, and as far as
could learn, never finding il. Her family
were cold, phlegmauc, and commonplace.
The strict discipline Of reason was all they
could exercise, and the child had grown stu
pd m proportion as these means had been
cxerted upon her She bad been for three
years in this state Of imbecility. and they
had now lost all hope of her recovery.
The next day | again found her in the
shrubbery, where she was allowed ID pass
much Of her time, as the absence of all
close restraint and vigilance had been found
beneficial. Her JOY on seeing me was uu-
bounded, and throwing herself ON the turf at
my feet, she leaned her arms upon my knees.
and resting head upon them in an attitude OF
chldlikc repose, remained gazing with
speechless tenderness up into my face. She
said little, but could perceive that she was
filled with tumultuOus emotian, and as | be-
held the workings of her heart the idea fash
ed through my brain that her soul might yet
be awakened
From that moment ! determined % make
the attempt, and without dreaming ofselfsh
passion, without one spark Of unh0ly love, |
vowed TO devote all the energies Of my ma
ture to the noble task Of enlightcning a
clouded spirit.
cannot now note all the details of my
success. cannot trace all the delicate links
Of that chain which conducted my soul into
81 81 s. Ls-
| watched the fittings Of cloud from of her
spirit, again the shadow would settle with
deeper gloom, and again CLEANS would break
forth, giving sweet promise Of brighter
day.
But the olhcious interference Of those who
could not comprehend either Alice or my
self checked all this growing good. Our
frequent meetings were discovered. and We
were of course separated. Alice was taken
home by her family, and was denied all ac-
cess to her presence. At length heard that
Alice was much worse-that she was raw
ing maniac, whose ungovorned frenzy could
only be controlled by personal violence. |
could not bear this; | went 10 her father,
explained to him my hopes; and begged to
be permitted TO see her for a single hour. lie
was a cold, practical, reasonable man, and
while he gave me full crcdence for disin-
ttrested desire to benefit his daughter he
evidently had little faith in nv anticipations
of success However he was willing To try
the experiment, and accompanied by him
was permitted to see Alice. She was fright
fully changed. Her eyes glared wildly, her
hair tangled and disheveled from her incess-
ant, restlessness, hung in masses about Ger
l.. fbaf af ..f,..
whom loss of reason had almost hrutalizcd
could have cursed the blind recklessness
that had so thwarted me. At first she did not
recognize me, but my voice seemedto awaken
the vibration of some chord whose music
was familiar. She became calmer, her raw
| ings ceased, she approached me and at length
seated herself on low stool at my feet with
the quietude of a loving child. # was the
hrst time she had been so calm since we
parted. The cold beings around her perceived
the beneficial effect Of my presence, and from
that moment | was allowed to pursue my
| plan without molestatlon.
4 year had passed, and Alice was linger-
ing on the very verge of that inner sanctuary
where reason dwells. She had been awaken
ed; intellect was rapidly dawning to perfect
day, but there were still vague mists and
/ broken shadows to be dispersed ere the sun
could shine with unclOuded splendOr.
1t was Just at this period-when there was
nothing to fear for Alice, but everything to
| hope-that was summoned to London bv
my fathers illness. was stricken
| down to earth, as by giants hand. while
standing beside my fathers grave, and re-
member nothing more until months after
wards, when found myself the OCCUPANT of
q ward in the asylum for the insane. | had
been mad-raving mad.
Ny reason however, returned as suddenly
as it had been impaired, and my recovery was
very rapid.
As soon as regained my strength hur-
ried to Dublin, and words cannot describe
my emotion as reached the abode of my own
Alice. As entered the drawing-room her
father rose to receive me kindly and cordial
ly, but my feelings overpowered me, and
turning to Alice, who sat beside him engaged
in needlework, | madly clasped her in my
arm. But she had forgotten me. Anger
flashed in her eyes, and her cheek burned
with offended delicacy as she tore herself
from my embrace and fed to her father for
protection. Would that could forget the
agony of that bitter moment! To my hur-
ried explanation, and my earnest appeal she
listened as the rawlings of madman. She
had lost all memory of her former union; an
ger and terror were the only emotions | could
now excite. Her father fearful of the effects
of such agitation on both of US, drew me in
to another room, and informed me that Alice
had been very ill soon after my departure,
and that she had recovered from a severe at
| tack of fever perfectly sane and quiet. But