scattered
around, I could not believe that I was forever separated from her. Her
remembrance, her image, her features, the sound of her voice, the
peculiar turn of her expressions, the charm of her countenance, were so
present, and, as it were, so incorporate in me, that she seemed more
than ever with me; she appeared to envelop me, to converse with me, to
call me by my name, as though I could have risen to meet her, and to
see her once more. God leaves a space between the certainty of our loss
and the consciousness of reality, like the interval which our senses
measure between the instant when the eye sees the axe fall on the tree
and the sound in our ear of the same blow long after. This distance
deadens grief by cheating it. For some time after losing those we love,
we have not completely lost them; we live on by the prolongation of
their life in us. We feel as when we have been long watching the
setting sun,--though its orb has sunk below the horizon, its rays are
not set in our eyes; they still shine on our soul. It is only
gradually, and as our impressions become more distinct as they cool,
that we are made to know the complete and heartfelt separation,--that
we can say, she is dead in me! For death is not death, but oblivion.

This phenomenon of grief was shown in its full force in me during that
night. God suffered me not to drain at one draught my cup of woe, lest
it should overwhelm my very soul. He vouchsafed to me the delusive
belief, which. I long retained, of her inward presence. In me, before
me, and around me, I saw that heavenly being who had been sent to me
for one single year, to direct my thoughts and looks forevermore
towards the heaven to which she returned in her spring of youth and
love.

When the poor boatman's candle was burned out, I took up my letters and
hid them in my bosom. I kissed a thousand times the floor of the room
which had been the cradle, and was now the tomb, of our love. I
unconsciously took my gun, and rushed wildly through the mountain
passes. The night was dark; the wind had risen. The waves of the lake,
dashing against the rocks, lashed them with such hollow blows, and sent
forth sounds so like to human voices, that many times I stopped
breathless, and turned round, as if I had been called by name. Yes, I
was called; and I was not mistaken; but the voice came from heaven!...

CVI.

You know, my friend, who found me the next morning, wandering among
precipices, i