The herald., 1896-03-01
FANTASIA
The Strange Confession of an
Unknown Mystic
BY LEDRU KINNEY

paralleled. Before the far-journeying
with which this message
is entrusted, has cut the ocean air with
tireless wings hundred times, I shall
have passed to the Life Beyopd. /
shall have pressed the electric button
within my reach which will release for
ever my sorrow-drugged soul from its
earthly cell, and allow me to join that
loved one whose early and unexplain-
able death, strangely caused. The
whole circumstance will seem to you
beyond the pale of possibility; but to
my own reeling senses it is altogether
too vividly true, and the course which
now alone can be-and the one which
leads to joy ineffable is to follow my
Beloved by completely swapping the
material fetters of my soul. 1t is only
with the prayerful hope to assuage the
deep stabs of conscience and regret
that momentarily linger here to write
these confessional words ere I drift
out to that Shoreless Sea whose breath
is even now tanning my brow.
Regarding my early life, I must be
brief. My father inherited great wealth,
but this city-inviting possession dis
turbed not his retiring and philosophic
trend of mind. He loved the silence
of solitude-an existence a mid the
scenes of wild mountain and ocean
grandeur where his studies and in
vestigations could be pursued amid
the oracles of Nature. Sufficient it is
to say that for this reason, he sought
q home on an island in the Pacific
ocean. Here massive edifice of stone
was erected upon beetling cliff-high
above the white shining beach that en-
broidered this tropie isle of the sun
down seas. 1t was magnificent eight;
one which could not but awaken in
soul deep feeling of awe and inspira-
tion. 1t was an eminence which com
manded a wide sweep of the mighty
ocean, sometimes lashed to frothing
fiecting the splendor of sun and stars.
of fantastic architecture. Its great
halls and apartments we're enriched
with masterpieces of painting, exquisite
groups of statuary, oriental drapings-
all those rare and countless objects of
beauty that may be summoned by the
wand of wealth. In this strange and
isolated environment, surrounded by
several trusty servants, dwelt my
parents, and with them their adopted
daughter Fantasia, and myself.
Fantasie! How the letters Of that
name transform into those of living
light! Fantasie-a name written in
divine caligraphy on all the galleries
of my memory-a name whose whis-
pered sound thrills through my
trance-bound soul, unlocking the in
nermost gates of life--of rarest love, of
ideality unspeakable! "Flower, born
and tenderness OIL Lno-v fo.-Ahe nnritv
she strangely dropped into its out
drifting tide, with all her mysterious
colors and perfumes
This island home, far away on the
bosom of the oceans vast expanse, was
the scene of the beautiful days of our
childhood. Here, Fantasia and 1. far
from the glamour, the sordid passions,
the soul dimming conditions of the
crowded mart, passed from the awaken
ing developments of the overture OF
youth to an exquisite drama Of love
and finally to the strange ending Of q
psychological tragedy. Fantasie was
beautiful! o, word that seems but to
mock me-that is as pictureless as the
parched plank of desert sands! Alas!
even those words which have ever slept
unsunR in the breast of genius, even
those beRuteous shapes which have
ever lowered above the uncarved
marble, yet never resigning themselves
to the dwelling of cold materiality
and even those divine pictures
which have ever floated in ths
artists heaven of fancy, ye'
never permitting even their shadows
to fall on the immortal canvas-al
these convey but faint conception o.
that soul which shone like the quintes
sence of pearl through the crystal-cleal
covering Of clay. I sometimes have
thought that she was born of those
white waves of light at dawn-tide-
which after having been focused and
compscted and crystallized into com
posite form-had been filled with thu
rosy flush of life. Her eyes, too seemed
to have the coloring of those rare spot.
In the star-set skies where beds of vio
let's appear to be dreaming. No Ian
guage could tell the soft cadence of hel
melting voice-no word-wrOught pic
ity which encircled her brow.
Ou0 4Ot0O LILO Will OIL Iu0 UuS
exquisite feeling, the consuming fire O
her soul, and she was to me sky which
contained all the heights and depths o
life ideal, in which shone all the stars
of truth, all the lightnings of thought
and all the sunshine of perfect joy
She WAS my all in all-my hope, my
future and my past. Love came int,
our life with all his "white-robed trair
of happy hours, their sandals shod will
fieetness.". Our days were passed ir
wandering about the isle which pos
sessed all scenic types. Their
were hours of delight in roam
ing amid the beauty.hauntet
dales that were all aflame with tn
rare flowers of that wondrous cline
At times we would ascend the loft,
hills in the central portion of the is
land. To the dizzy eminence of som,
overwhelming crag, would we attain
Far, far beneath lay the island-worlt
with it's encircling line of cleaning
beach, and beyond and as far out a
the eye could follow, rolled the bound
less main. There we were between
heaven and earth, amid eternal calm
It seemed as though we were alone II
the universe! OFT did we sail around
the grotesque coasts, enchanted by tn,
ever-murmurous plash of the ripplini
waters on the fairy strands, and witt
the fragrant breath of spicy grover
upon our brows. There were nights O
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