one period of his life when
the curtain seems to drop, and the drama in which he has hitherto acted
to end; when a total change appears to pass over the interests he has
lived among, and a new and very different kind of existence to open
before him. Such is the case when the death of friends has left us
alone and companionless; when they into whose ears we poured our whole
thoughts of sorrow or of joy are gone, and we look around upon the bleak
world without a tie to existence, without one hope to cheer us. How
naturally then do we turn from every path and place once lingered
over! how do we fly the thoughts wherein once consisted our greatest
happiness, and seek from other sources impressions less painful, because
unconnected with the past! Still, the bereavement of death is never
devoid of a sense of holy calm, a sort of solemn peace connected with
the memory of the lost one. In the sleep that knows no waking we see the
end of earthly troubles; in the silence of the grave come no sounds
of this world's contention; the winds that stir the rank grass of the
churchyard breathe at least repose. Not so when fate has severed us from
those we loved best during lifetime; when the fortunes we hoped to link
with our own are torn asunder from us; when the hour comes when we must
turn from the path we had followed with pleasure and happiness, and
seek another road in life, bearing with us not only all the memory of
the past, but all the speculation on the future. There is no sorrow, no
affliction, like this.

It was thus I viewed my joyless fortune,--with such depressing
reflections I thought over the past. What mattered it now how my career
might turn? There lived not one to care whether rank or honor, disgrace
or death, were to be my portion. The glorious path I often longed to
tread opened for me now without exciting one spark of enthusiasm. So
is it even in our most selfish desires, we live less for ourselves than
others.

If my road in life seemed to present few features to hang hopes on, he
who sat beside me appeared still more depressed. Seldom speaking, and
then but in monosyllables, he remained sunk in reverie.

And thus passed the days of our journey, when on the third evening we
came in sight of Coblentz. Then indeed there burst upon my astonished
gaze one of those scenes which once seen are never forgotten. From the
gentle declivity which we were now descending, the view extended several
miles in every direction.