of his brain, found an echo in me. I was
his mirror--a fountain in which he contemplated himself. From _him_ I
never dreamed of treachery, or selfishness, or ingratitude--and he
alone did not deceive me. He never gave me pain but once--and who
shall tell the agony of that hour, when his hand ceased to return the
pressure of my eager fingers, and the dark curtain of death shut out
the light of his dear eyes from my soul! Yet, after the anguish was
over, and I had laid him in the fragrant earth, amongst the roots of
happy flowers, where the limpid brook murmurs its soft and
never-ending requiem, and the birds come every night to dream and
sleep amid the overhanging branches, although my mortal sense was all
too dull to realize his presence, yet in my _soul_ I felt that he was
still with me. No midnight breeze came sighing through the dewy
moonlight, or brought the exhalations of the stars upon its wings,
that did not speak to me of him; and ever when I prayed, I knew that
he was near me, mingling, as of old, his soul with mine.

Poets may sing of love, and romantic youths may dream they realize the
soft delusion; strong hearts may swear they break and wither away with
unrequited passion, and keen brains may be turned by the maddening
glances of woman's eyes; but all these to me seem weak and common
emotions when compared with the intenseness of man's friendship--that
pure, devoted identification with each other which two congenial souls
experience when the alloy of no sexual or animal passion mingles with
the devotion of the spirit. I could go through fiery ordeals, or
submit with patience to the keenest tortures, both of mind or body, so
that I felt the sustaining presence of one real friend; while, if
alone, my heart shrinks from the contest, and retires dismayed upon
itself.

But my poor friend was in love, and _his_ love was as pervading and
absorbing as the fragrance of a flower, or the light of a star. The
woman he had chosen for his idol--the shrine at which his pure
devotions of heart and soul were offered--was a gay and beautiful
Creole from New Orleans, who, with her mother, and a young gentleman
who appeared in the capacity of friend, spent the summer months in the
North. They stopped at the Carlton, where my friend was boarding, and
the acquaintance had been formed quite accidentally. The lady was
beautiful, bewitching, and very tender; and, without stopping to
inquire as to the consequences, or to assure hi