The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1873-12-13

ing MELANCHOLY grew apace into a darL an, ana
bitter jealousy. In a few davs | eonld even
say in the bitterness of nv soul: UWhy shu'd
70 10 see her? Or, why write third time
Shall allow her 10 show myself or NV th;rd
letter 10 her cockney besux ?-of which ne
told me that she had crowds , that thew NAV
laugh at the uncouth bumpkin Of Viro;nia.
who by his services at a critical period, when
her grief was deep and her heart unguarded.
had made transient impression on her mi
whom in her cooler moments. she could moi
think Of marrying. though she felt obl;oed II
him for his kindness. and had. nnder he i'm
pulse Of gratitude, given him more eneour.
agement than prudence allowed. Shall / ex-
pose myself 10 such treatment as this9 M.
verify, will notfii
These suggestions of the mechanically demon
were sometimes resisted bv NV better feelines:
bat never snbdued so that / eould resolve
again to prosecute INV IN. .fated love / st;ll
INDUCED, from time to time, INV bitter sur.
musings of Judith's falsehood although INV
conscience often whispered that they were mn.
just. What inconsistences will mot 4 wretched
man perpetrate In the bitterness Of his soul 4
Finally, / resolved that al the case aeemad
desperate. would strive 10 forget that / had
ever loved Judith Bansaddi. was imneIIed
TO some decisive course. by the dread of a
settled melancholy and imbecile moping. or
Of downright madness for life. Once eonclu-
siyely resolved, / was as prompt and enerqet.
ic in execution, "A was indecis;ve and nro.
crastinating in cases Of doubtful delibemtion.
" "Perhaps,u said to myself. aft is a mer.
cifnl interposition Of Providence. that has
thwarted an effection which might have plant.
ed thorn in my breast for life. A christian
is forbidden 10 marry an iniidel. and the pro.
hibition Is q wise one. Now for study and
learning, and the glorious achievements Of
professional exertion."
Ny studies had been much INTERRUPTED by
consumption first, and then BY love and mel.
ancholy. During q year | had made little
progress; now / betook myself with renewed
zeal to my books. But many time and of
while leaning over my learned author on the
table, did start out Of reverie, and finding
that my soul had uneonsciously strayed into
the regions OF love, and drank sweeter waters
at the fountain of Venus, than Helicon had
ever yielded to poet or philosopher. But by
persevering efforts, conquered this propen-
sity to riviye scenes and emotions, which,
however delightful once, were fleeing as a
dream should be forgotten.
By the end Of the ensuing summer my mind
had recovered its usual tone and steady hab-
its, and / had Just finished the preparatory
studies Of my profession when an Incident
occurred which again raised my feelings to a
tempest, and formed the closing scene Of my
story.
Going by the postotfice one forenoon, was
called TO receive letter which arrived by the
last mail. turned in, expecting nothing un-
usual when 10 il was q ship-letter, with the
London post-mark. / instantly recognized
upon II the handwriting of Judith Bensaddi.
Good Heayensl what volcanic stirring and
heaying, what rekindling and burning Of ir'
repressible fires, did feelimmediately within
me. The hame OF love had been soothed by
despair, but the fuel was unconsumed, and
the fire smouldering in secret; the first breath
OF hope was sufficient to reawaken its dor.
mant energies.
hurried out of town on my way home, in
tending as soon as reached a private place,
to tear open the mystery at once. But when
1 found q suitable place, ! could not summon
the resolution to break the seal. Hope shed
revlving rays upon my soul, and ] longed to
realize its promise; but fear drew up cloud
from the Stygian lake, that threatened TO over
whelm and extinguish forever the last star in
my heaven Of love. Hitherto the evidence
that judith had changed her mind were pure
y negative; l had received no communication
from her that was all. Now was TO learn
from herself the certainty OF what might still
hope, or OF what had feared: the question
that had cost me SO much excrutiating conjec-
ture, was now TO be solved. was to know
in moment whether the lovely Judith might
yet be mine, or whether the gulf between US
was now fixed and impossible. When put
my thumb-nail TO the seal, and ! felt that l
was about to read the doom Of love whose
renovated power now ruled my soul, terror
took hold on me, and trembling which made
all my bones shake" could not break the
seal. l staggered homewards under my load
OF fearful anxiety. Several times | stopped,
and said now but could not, every nerve
in my body quivered. When l got home, |
stole unobseryed into my room, and locked
the door. Here, said i, lis the place, and
now is the time" Still hesitated; sat,
law down on the bed; got up and paced the
room. 1t would not do; my heart qnailed and
shrank from the dead revelation. Al cannot
do It here,n said 81 must go TO the woods
and rocks" To the woods aud rocks about
the farm went For hours | wandered from
shade TO shade, and from rock to rock, In
deep and agitated thought--often forgetting
where was, or what was the matter. Often
l took the letter from my pocket, looked at it,
one while examining the superscnption,
another while the seal--and then returning il
to my pocket with q groan, wandered again,
like the evil spirit, seeking rest and finding
none" 1t may seem strange, Tia. should
voluntarily undergo this heightened agony Of
suspense, when could end It in moment.
But burst not end il. What man could dare,
i i he might, unseal the books Of his final des.
ny w9uu iainer hsein @ ,ne ~ uncei'An'y
Nv. =, aen.vns noRs' sian n:1Aiu 'ne "''ne''ns
pinss oi remeui.ess uesPar. .