Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1891-01-18

of thought and feeling as a field Of fower5
when the west wind blows, was now set, as
though forever, in death-like fxity. The
delicate features were drawn and pinched,
the nostrils contracted, the colorless lips
straightened.out of the lines Of beauty into
the mold of lifeless mask. 1t was the face
of dead woman, but it was her face still,
and the Wanderer knew it we'll; In the
kingdom of his soul the whole resistless
commonwealth of the emotions revolted to-
gether to dethrone deaths regent, sorrow-
while the thrice-tempered springs of passion,
bent but not broken, stirred suddenly in the
palace of his BODY and shook the strong
toundotion of his being.
During the seconds that followed his eyes
were riveted upon the beloved head. Then,
as the creed ended, the vision sank down
and was lost to his sight. She was seated
now, and the broad sea of humanity hid her
from him, though ne raised himself the full
height of his stature in the effort to distln-
guish even the least part of her head-dress.
To move from his place was all but impossi-
bic, though the fierce longing to be near her
bade him trample even upon the shoulders
of the trong to reach her, as men have done
more than once to save themselves from
death by fire in crowded places. Still the
singing of the hymn continued, and would
continue, as be knew, until the moment Of
the Elevation. He strained his hearing to
catch the sounds that came from the quarter
where she sat- In q chorus of q thousand
singers he fancied that he could have distin-
guished the tender, heart-stirring vibrations
of her tones. Never woman sang, never
could woman sing again as she had once
sung, though her voice had been as soft as 10
had been sweet, and tuned to vlbrate in the
heart rather than in the ear. As the strains
rose and fell, the Wanderer bowed his head
and closed his eyes, listening through
the maze of sounds for the silvery
ring OF her magic note. Something he
heard at last, something that sent thrill
from his ear to his heart, unless indeed his
heart itself were making music for his ears
to hear. The impression reached him ft-
fully, often interrupted and lost, but az
often renewing itself and awakening in the
listener the certainty OF recognition which
he had felt at the sight of the singers face.
He who loves with his whole soul mas q
knowledge and a learning which surpass the
wisdom of those who spend their lives in
the study of things living or long dead, or
never animate. They, indeed, can construct
the figure of flower from the dried web Of
a single leaf or by the examination of q
dusty seed, and they can set up the scheme
OF life Of shadowy mammoth out Of .
fragment of its skeleton, or tell the story Of
hill and valley from the contemplation Of
q handful of earth or of broken pebble.
Often they are right, sometimes they
are driven deeper and deeper into error by
the complicated imperfections of their own
science. But he who loves greatly possesses
in bis intuition the capacities of all instru-
ments OF observation which man has in
vented and applied to his use. The lenses
Of his eye can magnify the infnitesimal de-
tail to the dimensions OF common things,
and bring objects to his vision from i'm!
measurable distances; the labyrinth Of hia
ear can choose and distinguish amid the
harmonies and the dIscords of the world,
mufiing in its tortuous passages the
reverberation of ordinary sounds while
multiplying hundredfold the faint tones Of
the one beloved voice. His whole body and
his whole intelligence form together an in
strument OF exquisite sensibIlity, whereby
the perceptions OIL his inmost soul are hourly
tortured, delighted, caught up into ecstasy,
torn and crushed by jealousy and fear, of
plunged into the irigid waters Of despair.
The melancholy hymn resoundsd through
the vast church, but though the Wanderer
stretched the faculty of hearing to the ut
most, he could no longer find the note he
sought among the vibrations OF the dank and
heavy air. Then an irresistible longing
came upon him to turn and force his way
through the dense throng of men and women,
to reach the aisle and press past the huge
pillar till he could slip between the tomb
stone and the astronomer and the row Of
black wooden seats. Onoe there, he should
see her face to face.
Ha turned, indeed, a. he stood, and b .