The Russellville Democrat., 1880-08-19

SdiCtudTy where TtdSou dWVt,o' pi.S
 had been awakenedj intellect was rapid
 ly dawning to perfect day, but there were still vaglie mists and broken shad- ows to be dispersed ere the sun could shine with unclouded splendor. Yet | the future was now full of hope and
 promise; she had reached the threshold
 of reason through the portal of affec-
 tions. How she loved mel how sweet
 was the girlish tenderness she lavished
 upon me in the dim twilight of this her
 morning of the soul how heart-thrilling
 were her innocent caressesl Oh, that could but lose the memory of that timel
 that 1 could have imbued her heart with
 the remembrances that have poisoned
 my eSlstencel fa .ff 54 It was just at this period-when there
 was nothing to fear for Alice. but every thing to hope--that I was summoned to
 London by the illness of my father.
 Idared not disobey the call of so sole m, a duty, and being assured both by hen
 medical attendant and by my own ob- | servation that no danger to Alice could result from my temporary absence, tore myself from her and set out on my
 melancholy journey 1 found my father extremely i'll, but his tenacity of life
 protracted his struggle with the king of terrors, until his sufferings had wrenched
 from him everything but the breath,
 which he gladly resigned. The terrible
 tension of my nerves during this pro-
 longed anguish, together with my acute
 consciousness of an exhaustion of soul which rendered me less able to bear
 distress. was too much for my bodily frame, I was stricken down to earth, as
 by giants hand, while standing beside
 my fathers grave, and remember nothing more until months afterward,
 when I found myself the occupant of
 ward in an insane asy lum. l had been
 mad--raving mad E ghs a
 My reason, however, returned as sud- denly as it had been impaired, and my
 recovery was very rapid. l need not say how eagerly turned to the thought of Alice, and how rejoiced even then in being permitted to suffer for her sake. I knew 1t was for her l had endured this loss of reason; was sure that 1t
 was only by nay total oblivion of self that she could be strangely imbued with
 the light that was in me; and the thought that she had been receiving all of which
 I had been deprived was solace to my
 heart. a4Gl a sf ts
 As soon as I regained my strength I
 hurried to Dublin, and words can not describe my emotion as 1 reached the
 abode of my own Alice. As entered the drawing room her father rose to re-
 ceive me kindly and cordially, but my l feelings overpowered me, and turning to Alice, who sat beside him engaged in needle work, madly clasped her in my
 arms. But she had forgotten me! An ger flashed in her eyes, and her cheeks burned with offended delicacy as she I tore Herself from my embrace and fled
 to her father for protection. Would that | 1 could forget the agony of that bitter
 moment. To my hurried explanation
 and my earnest appeal she listened as
 to the rawlings of madman. She had
 lost all memory of our former union,
 and anger and terror were the only emo-
 tions 1 could excite. Her father, fear
 ful of the effect of the agitation on both
 of us, drew me into another room and
 informed me that Alice had been very
 ill soon after my departure, and that she
 had recovered from a severe attack of
 fever, perfectly sane and quiet. but she
 was like one awakened from deep and
 dreamless sleep. The past had no re-
 membrance; she was creature only ot the present, and in her calm, cold col l IccttUntSS Oi duu lCi ailiOot stern reason no trace remained of her
 tender and cratic fancies. Horrible did all this seem to me; methought we had
 exchanged souls--the firm, unshrinking spirit which had once led me to the cold
 regions of speculative science was now her guide. Fearful was the thought that
 had thus lost my own identity; doubly
 fearful the knowledge of my own trans
 fusion into another's soul could never be
 recognized. My 4birthright-my noble
 heritage of my soul and mind-had been
 given to another. had dared to assert
 the privileges of higher order of beings,
 and was punished.
 Her father dreaded the effects of any
 attempt to revive in the mind of Alice a
 remembrance of the past. He felt grate. : ful to me for her restoration, and would
 gladly have repaid me with her love
 but he dared not risk the recall of hei former tenderness. He entreated me to
 let it depart like dream, and to suffer her to be guided by woman's fantasy
 in her affections. l promised and I tried to keep my word. Alice was in
 duced to believe that my recent aberra- : ton of mind could account for my r bstrange familiarity when we met, and as , to her fathers friend she forgave me But sEe evidently regarded me as a per feet stranger. My task was done-sh' ! was fully awakened into intellectual life but she was no longer portion of my
 self. eu-. -
 t There has been sympathy between ) her darkened spirit and the soul whicl : was imparting 10 it life and light; ther' was joy between us, and hope, and 1 sense of double existence, which make 7 the essence of immortal love. Now al , was changed; had transiused into he t nature my own high gifts; had lost m, . own spirituality; had become all earth Q ly, else why did vearn with such pas l sionat, longing for one touch of her re- n lips, one clasp of her soft hano2 Sh s possessed my nobler soul, and there re @ mained 10 me but faint spot of tha ,, ethereal fire which had once outshon e the human passion. ef Il It was weak and vain, yet 1 was foC }. enough to seek her love, and woo her a $ men woo the women they would we, a sued her with gentle word and lovin e looks and courtly flatteries. 1 crushe e the wild emotions of my bosom an h bowed amid the crowd of her admirer 1t Why did she despise my homage? Wh d did she not feel for me the deep unlool 1T ing reverence which ever mingles in B. woman's love? Why did she look wit e; half contemptuous pity on the passioI D. Was it because her sex ever scorn tt
 weakness they create, and know n' s. how to be, at the same moment, the id s, and the worshiper? Nol It was b $, cause I was degraded beneath my fello, m men; had lost all that could eleva IS me above them, He who could win al