Butte semi-weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1886-1890, 1886-04-28
A Story Showing the Strange Power
Of the Soul Mind Over Natter
Illustrated.
ssMy Son, 1t is With Sorrow 1 Behold
Your COurse''-The Advice of
Loving Father.
The Fancy Of Youth-Holdfng Firm
to One Idea, Showing at Least
the Dreadful Result.
GBY FRANKLIN z. DENTON.
81 become portion of that around me-

DI KUN. ..,. =#,..
. l..
Plato says that we become like that
which we contemplate. Poe beautifully
expresses his perception OF this great spirit
ual law. In. one his tales occur these
words: II have been all my life dealer in
ANTIQUITIES, and have imbibed the shadows
uf fallen columns at Baalbec and Tadmore
and Persepols until my very soul has
become ruin" Lamartine also perceived
it, else he would not have said: Great
fanatics generally proceed from sad and
sterile countries"
1t was always mystery to me why
Plato made his proposition so narrow.
He failed to make wide enough generali.
cation. He should have said that every
thing becomes like that which it contem-
plates. 1t is the nature OF all things to
carry on q spiritual commerce, to trade
individualities. There is no doubt in my
mind but that yon poplar tree, which has
stood so many years in front of the house
in one of whose antiquiated rooms l am
writing, has to certain extent (impercep-
tible though it be,) become like the house,
and the house like the poplar tree, because
of their reciprocal contemplation through
the vicissitudes of so many summers and
winters.
Even if you cannot believe with me that
it is the tendency of the clouds to become
like the mountains around whose lofty
heads they wind their immaculate arms,
and the grass like the sunsets, and the foil.
age the robins, and the golden stars the
tranquil meadows, you must admit that it
is the tendency OF souls to become like each
other.
Two persons cannot pass upon the street
and retain themselves wholly. Each be-
comes the other little. Two persons con-
+La:n q no for oh q mood
Have you ever observed the resemblance
between men and women, whose untticker-
ing love for each other have burned like
planets, through scores OF years. They re-
semble each other because they have traded
beings SO long. Have You never observed
that when one dies often the other follows
soon. Their dissolutions are so near syn
chronous, because when one dies does not q
portion of the other die also? Whenever
one does wrong he pollutes all humanity
Who knows but he drags the whole uni
verse down q lit le with him? Why, when
there ia O sin committed, though it never
cast it's shadow in an act, there is discord
in the music OF the farthests star and Il pang
in the bosom OF the archangel nearest the
throne of the Almighty!
Everything becomes like that which it
contemplates. How important, then, that
we make the proper choice. II soul can
imbibe ruins until it becomes ruin, and it
can, why cannot it imbibe the symmetrical
aud complete until it shall become symmet-
ry and completeness? Why cannot it con-
There is castle, and it looms from g.
q .ntic rock at the confluence of two impet-
nous rivers. The whole landscape is a con-
fusion of rock and ravines, and the horizon
is begirdled with mountains whose black
peaks appear TO prick thesky. 1t seems as
| if nature had expired in epilepsy and death
had wrought no change in the distorted tea-
lures. Yet stern energy and terrible lie
exhale from everything.
The castle contains more than thirty
| rooms, but, excepting two, they have not
been entered by any person now living
they have not been opened for generations.
| These two rooms are in 8 tower 100 feet
above the frothing rivers, and several
| small square windows, like the portfolios
OF a man-uf-war, open on the rugged land
scape and the black and scowling noun
tains.
| 1t was sultry night and the sky was
overhung with tumultuous clouds, sitting
| the white moon. Inceseant were the light.
nings, and shot athwart the sky like I'M
measurable vipers of blood. Tremedoue
was the thunder and the castle shc ok from
"turret to foundation stone." Yet it did
not rain. The heave seemed like an an
guished heart that cannot weep,
There was a light in the east-facing room
of the tower, and within it's walls were liv
ing beings-yes. human beings-an old maj
and young man. Long was the bearc
and the hair OF the old man, and white
serene and ruddy was his face. He was
sittirg g by the antique fireplace singing 6
l v,1o virU nImoNf unOI
the violin. He was an excellent player
There was a weird sweetness in his vener
able voice, and sad were the words he sung
and these were the words he sung;
| When are summer roses sweetest?
| When their sweet is shed.
| When are summer skies the fairest?
When their light is fed.
Strange it is we never prize
Blooming rose or bonny skies
| Till the roses sweet is shed.
| Till the summers light is fled.
| When are present hours the brig htest?
When their hopes are sped.
When are friendly faces dearest?
When those friends are dead.
Sad it is we never prize
ii Happy hours or loving eyes.
tn TIL h the happy hours h.osI sal are slp Sped
The young man was slender and ghastl
pale, and mercurial was his face. Their
was wild suffering in his large gray eyes
disheveled was his hair, and though tn
garments he wore were costly, they wel
: soiled and slrvenlv. Like Gagged vol h
: was walking to and fro through the dlmlJ
7 lighted ROOM As old the man sang his sa
) song, the eyes OF the youn. man gre
E wilder, his face more CHASTITY and his eccel
, tric gait more rapid. The old man ha
1 nearly finished. was upon the last lin
/. when the yong man interrupted him tn.
r piteosly: Father, cease thy music! A
= the red lightning OF this night, SO the not'
to my memory! The landscape OF the pat
is lighted, and every minutest ieatu
thrust like dagger in my heart: What b
'. comes of the departed days? Is there I
j. Gabriel for them? Or, if they are annih
e ated, has God no power to recreate them
II not others like them, but the same de'
:. ones? When will association torture us 7
n more? Do the dead feel the CALLING yoke
9 memory"
= The old man laid down his violin, an
4 settling back in his armchair, fastened b
70 eyes upon his son. When the wild spec
Il was finished, he answered him slowly al
r. calmly, but in that slowness and calmne