606 A Voice from the Departed. [Dee. 
of ‘her foster country, the “observed of’ all observers.” — A’ “noble 
met het, one night, at a royal feast—saw, and loved. > T need not’ tell 
of the rapidity with which love grows in a young heart; ‘I-need not’tell 
of the magic sympathy which exists between’ souls’ formed to niet 
and unite. My daughter loved, too,—and short was the lapse: of time 
ere she confessed her emotions, and in the face of a princely court she 
was ennobled, and the country rang with her name. 
Envy was abroad, —and with a deadlier influence than the’ evseewes; 
roused herself to war against my daughter’s peace and’ her ‘fond hus- 
band’s happiness. The future was not as a sealed book'to me} and if 
spirits could weep and die with the weight of grief,—I should have 
ceased to be. 
My daughter’s purity was assailed. I heard the gross charge, and ‘saw 
it ere it was broached, working in the slanderer’s heart. I had no 
power to stem the whirlpool of evil that surrounded her; I hovered 
round her. I saw her when her ear first heard the rumour of alleged 
dishonour. I saw her burning tears—I knew her innocence.—I heard 
her breathe her fervent prayers for deliverance,—and I saw the firmness 
of her faith. All availed not ;—rumour said she and her paramour in- 
trigued against the state! Fond soul !—a dove would as soon have lifted 
‘its “downy pinion against the eagle as she have lent a breath of her's to 
blow the flame of faction. Envy coined the base tales—envy kept them 
before the world’s eye—envy filled the cup of bitterness to the brim. 
* * * s » 
The morning’s sun shone on a pallid corse—swollen and bloated— 
she had been strangled in the midnight silence. I heard the murderer’s 
plan concerted—I saw her reposing in a soft sleep—her gentle heart 
heaving with its light dreams. I felt I was taking my last farewell ;— 
the murderers approached—in an instant their.ruffian fingers were 
pressed on her throat—her breath stopped for an instant, then rattled in 
her throat,—her eye-balls strained from their sockets ;—without a groan— 
without a prayer to the villains for mercy, or to her God for protection.— 
She, my only object of love, was snatched from her sorrows, and hurried 
to the earth, without a knell being tolled or a word of blessing uttered, 
and no human tear ever fell upon her grave. 
Often did I visit that obscure grave. From the earth have I flown 
upward and mingled with the worlds above: I have sought to supplicate 
divine vengeance on the accursed perpetrators of this horrid deed: 
back have I winged my way. to the spot where my sweet lily reposed, 
and like a living man have I given way to the agony of my sorrows. 
Oh! thought I, is my suffering given as an atonement for my past 
sins—is it a foretaste of my hereafter, when the great doom of all shall 
be sealed? 
To me, the great system of things—worlds,—myriads of worlds above, 
below, around,—all seemed a vast, vast enduring wilderness —void— 
objectless—fruitless. Oh! this double solitude clung around me, and 
hung upon me with a weight indescribable. Gladly would I have cast 
off my spiritual existence and have mingled with the elements. 
A light broke upon me ;—my wife’s pure spirit was revealed to me. 
We communed together. Oh, blessed privilege! She was a seraphic 
spirit—all light. We communed on the bitterness of life and the 
blessing of death. ,We were calm. She had seen all the affliction I 
had seen; she had felt the agony I had felt. Again she was snatched 
