a mortal antipathy-第34章

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young　womanhood　with　deadly　peril　for　me；　if　I　dared　to　pass　its

limits。　　I　was　floating　with　the　stream　in　the　little　boat　in　which　I

passed　many　long　hours　of　reverie　when　I　saw　another　small　boat　with

a　boy　and　a　young　girl　in　it。　　The　boy　had　been　rowing；　and　one　of

his　oars　had　slipped　from　his　grasp。　　He　did　not　know　how　to　paddle

with　a　single　oar；　and　was　hopelessly　rowing　round　and　round；　his　oar

all　the　time　floating　farther　away　from　him。　　I　could　not　refuse　my

assistance。　　I　picked　up　the　oar　and　brought　my　skiff　alongside　of

the　boat。　　When　I　handed　the　oar　to　the　boy　the　young　girl　lifted　her

veil　and　thanked　me　in　the　exquisite　music　of　the　language　which



　　　　　'Sounds　as　if　it　should　be　writ　on　satin。〃



She　was　a　type　of　Italian　beauty；a　nocturne　in　flesh　and　blood；　if

I　may　borrow　a　term　certain　artists　are　fond　of；　but　it　was　her　voice

which　captivated　me　and　for　a　moment　made　me　believe　that　I　was　no

longer　shut　off　from　all　relations　with　the　social　life　of　my　race。

An　hour　later　I　was　found　lying　insensible　on　the　floor　of　my　boat；

white；　cold；　almost　pulseless。　　It　cost　much　patient　labor　to　bring

me　back　to　consciousness。　　Had　not　such　extreme　efforts　been　made；　it

seems　probable　that　I　should　never　have　waked　from　a　slumber　which

was　hardly　distinguishable　from　that　of　death。





Why　should　I　provoke　a　catastrophe　which　appears　inevitable　if　I

invite　it　by　exposing　myself　to　its　too　well　ascertained　cause？　　The

habit　of　these　deadly　seizures　has　become　a　second　nature。　　The

strongest　and　the　ablest　men　have　found　it　impossible　to　resist　the

impression　produced　by　the　most　insignificant　object；　by　the　most

harmless　sight　or　sound　to　which　they　had　a　congenital　or　acquired

antipathy。　　What　prospect　have　I　of　ever　being　rid　of　this　long　and

deep…seated　infirmity？　　I　may　well　ask　myself　these　questions；　but　my

answer　is　that　I　will　never　give　up　the　hope　that　time　will　yet　bring

its　remedy。　　It　may　be　that　the　wild　prediction　which　so　haunts　me

shall　find　itself　fulfilled。　　I　have　had　of　late　strange

premonitions；　to　which　if　I　were　superstitious　I　could　not　help

giving　heed。　　But　I　have　seen　too　much　of　the　faith　that　deals　in

miracles　to　accept　the　supernatural　in　any　shape；assuredly　when　it

comes　from　an　old　witch…like　creature　who　takes　pay　for　her

revelations　of　the　future。　　Be　it　so：　though　I　am　not　superstitious；

I　have　a　right　to　be　imaginative；　and　my　imagination　will　hold　to

those　words　of　the　old　zingara　with　an　irresistible　feeling　that；

sooner　or　later；　they　will　prove　true。



Can　it　be　possible　that　her　prediction　is　not　far　from　its

realization？　　I　have　had　both　waking　and　sleeping　visions　within

these　last　months　and　weeks　which　have　taken　possession　of　me　and

filled　my　life　with　new　thoughts；　new　hopes；　new　resolves。



Sometimes　on　the　bosom　of　the　lake　by　which　I　am　dreaming　away　this

season　of　bloom　and　fragrance；　sometimes　in　the　fields　or　woods　in　a

distant　glimpse；　once　in　a　nearer　glance；　which　left　me　pale　and

tremulous；　yet　was　followed　by　a　swift　reaction；　so　that　my　cheeks

flushed　and　my　pulse　bounded；　I　have　seen　her　whohow　do　I　dare　to

tell　it　so　that　my　own　eyes　can　read　it？…I　cannot　help　believing　is

to　be　my　deliverer；　my　saviour。



I　have　been　warned　in　the　most　solemn　and　impressive　language　by　the

experts　most　deeply　read　in　the　laws　of　life　and　the　history　of　its

disturbing　and　destroying　influences；　that　it　would　be　at　the

imminent　risk　of　my　existence　if　I　should　expose　myself　to　the

repetition　of　my　former　experiences。　　I　was　reminded　that　unexplained

sudden　deaths　were　of　constant；　of　daily　occurrence；　that　any　emotion

is　liable　to　arrest　the　movements　of　life：　terror；　joy；　good　news　or

bad　news；anything　that　reaches　the　deeper　nervous　centres。　　I　had

already　died　once；　as　Sir　Charles　Napier　said　of　himself；　yes；　more

than　once；　died　and　been　resuscitated。　　The　next　time；　I　might　very

probably　fail　to　get　my　return　ticket　after　my　visit　to　Hades。　　It

was　a　rather　grim　stroke　of　humor；　but　I　understood　its　meaning　full

well；　and　felt　the　force　of　its　menace。



After　all；　what　had　I　to　live　for　if　the　great　primal　instinct　which

strives　to　make　whole　the　half　life　of　lonely　manhood　is　defeated；

suppressed；　crushed　out　of　existence？　　Why　not　as　well　die　in　the

attempt　to　break　up　a　wretched　servitude　to　a　perverted　nervous

movement　as　in　any　other　way？　　I　am　alone　in　the　world；alone　save

for　my　faithful　servant；　through　whom　I　seem　to　hold　to　the　human

race　as　it　were　by　a　single　filament。　　My　father；　who　was　my

instructor；　my　companion；　my　dearest　and　best　friend　through　all　my

later　youth　and　my　earlier　manhood；　died　three　years　ago　and　left　me

my　own　master；　with　the　means　of　living　as　might　best　please　my

fancy。　　This　season　shall　decide　my　fate。　　One　more　experiment；　and　I

shall　find　myself　restored　to　my　place　among　my　fellow…beings；　or；　as

I　devoutly　hope；　in　a　sphere　where　all　our　mortal　infirmities　are

past　and　forgotten。



I　have　told　the　story　of　a　blighted　life　without　reserve；　so　that

there　shall　not　remain　any　mystery　or　any　dark　suspicion　connected

with　my　memory　if　I　should　be　taken　away　unexpectedly。　　It　has　cost

me　an　effort　to　do　it；　but　now　that　my　life　is　on　record　I　feel　more

reconciled　to　my　lot；　with　all　its　possibilities；　and　among　these

possibilities　is　a　gleam　of　a　better　future。　　I　have　been　told　by　my

advisers；　some　of　them　wise；　deeply　instructed；　and　kind…hearted　men；

that　such　a　life…destiny　should　be　related　by　the　subject　of　it　for

the　instruction　of　others；　and　especially　for　the　light　it　throws　on

certain　peculiarities　of　human　character　often　wrongly　interpreted　as

due　to　moral　perversion；　when　they　are　in　reality　the　results　of

misdirected　or　reversed　actions　in　some　of　the　closely　connected

nervous　centres。



For　myself　I　can　truly　say　that　I　have　very　little　morbid　sensibility

left　with　reference　to　the　destiny　which　has　been　allotted　to　me。　　I

have　passed　through　different　stages　of　feeling　with　reference　to　it；

as　I　have　developed　from　infancy　to　manhood。　　At　first　it　was　mere

blind　instinct　about　which　I　had　no　thought；　living　like　other

infants　the　life　of　impressions　without　language　to　connect　them　in

series。　　In　my　boyhood　I　began　to　be　deeply　conscious　of　the

infirmity　which　separated　me　from　those　around　me。　　In　youth　began

that　conflict　of　emotions　and　impulses　with　the　antagonistic

influence　of　which　I　have　already　spoken；　a　conflict　which　has　never

ceased；　but　to　which　I　have　necessarily　become　to　a　certain　degree

accustomed；　and　against　the　dangers　of　which　I　have　learned　to　guard

myself　habitually。　　That　is　the　meaning　of　my　isolation。　　You；　young

man；if　at　any　time　your　eyes　shall　look　upon　my　melancholy　record；

you　at　least　will　understand　me。　　Does　not　your　heart　throb；　in　the

presence　of　budding　or　blooming　womanhood；　sometimes　as　if　it　〃were

ready　to　crack〃　with　its　own　excess　of　strain？　　What　if　instead　of

throbbing　it　should　falter；　flutter；　and　stop　as　if　never　to　beat

again？　　You；　young　woman；　who　with　ready　belief　and　tender　sympathy

will　look　upon　these　pages；　if　they　are　ever　spread　before　you；　know

what　it　is　when　your　breast　heaves　with　uncontrollable　emotion　and

the　grip　of　the　bodice　seems　unendurable　as　the　embrace　of　the　iron

virgin　of　the　Inquisition。　　Think　what　it　would　be　if　the　grasp　were

tightened　so　that　no　breath　of　air　could　enter　your　panting　chest！



Does　your　heart　beat　in　the　same　way；　young　man；　when　your　honored

friend；　a　venerable　matron　of　seventy　years；　greets　you　with　her

kindly　smile　as　it　does　in　the　presence　of　youthful　loveliness？　　When

a　pretty　child　brings　you　her　doll　and　looks　into　your　eyes　with

artless　grace　and　trustful　simplicity；　does　your　pulse　quicken；　do

you　tremble；　does　life　palpitate　through　your　whole　being；　as　when

the　maiden　of　seventeen　meets　your　enamored　sight　in　the　glow　of　her

rosebud　beauty？　　Wonder　not；　then；　if　the　period　of　mystic　attraction

for　you　should　be　that　of　agitation；　terror；　danger；　to　one　in　whom

the　natural　current　of　the　instincts　has　had　its　course　changed　as

that　of　a　stream　is　changed　by　a　convulsion　of　nature；　so　that　the

impression　which　is　new　life　to　you　is　death　to　him。



I　am　now　twenty…five　years　old。　　I　have　reached　the　time　of　life

which　I　have　dreamed；　nay　even　ventured　to　hope；　might　be　the　limit

of　the　sentence　which　was　pronounced　upon　me　in　my　infancy。　　I　can

assign　no　good　reason　for　this　anticipation。　　But　in　writing　this

paper　I　feel　as　if　I　were　preparing　to　begin　a　renewed　existence。

There　is　nothing　for　me　to　be　ashamed　of　in　the　story　I　have　told。

There　is　no　man　living　who　would　not　have　yielded　to　the　sense　of

instantly　impending　death　which　seized　upon　me　under　the　conditions　I

have　mentioned。　　Martyrs　have　gone　singing　to　their　flaming　shrouds；

but　never　a　man　could　hold　his　breath　long　enough　to　kill　himself；　he

must　have　rope　or　water；　or　some　mechanical　help；　or　nature　will　make

him　draw　in　a　breath　of　air；　and　would　make　him　do　so　though　he　knew

the　salvation　of　the　human　race　would　be　forfeited　by　that　one　gasp。



This　paper　may　never　reach　the　eye　of　any　one　afflicted　in　the　same

way　that　I　have　been。　　It　probably　never　will；　but　for　all　that；

there　are　many　shy　natures　which　will　recognize　tendencies　in

themselves　in　the　direction　of　my　unhappy　susceptibility。　　Others；　to

whom　such　weakness　seems　inconceivable；　will　find　their　scepticism

shaken；　if　not　removed；　by　the　calm；　judicial　statement　of　the　Report

drawn　up　for　the　Royal　Academy。　　It　will　make　little　difference　to　me

whether　my　story　is　accepted　unhesitatingly　or　looked　upon　as　largely

a　product　of　the　imagination。　　I　am　but　a　bird　of　passage　that　lights

on　the　boughs　of　different　nationalities。　　I　belong　to　no　flock；　my

home　may　be　among　the　palms　of　Syria；　the　olives　of　Italy；　the　oaks

of　England；　the　elms　that　shadow　the　Hudson　or　the　Connecticut；　I

build　no　nest；　to…day　I　am　here；　to…morrow　on　the　wing。



If　I　quit　my　native　land　before　the　trees　have　dropped　their　leaves　I

shall　place　this　manuscript　in　the　safe　hands　of　one　whom　I　feel　sure

that　I　can　trust；　to　do　with　it　as　he　shall　see　fit。　　If　it　is　only

curious　and　has　no　bearing　on　human　welfare；　he　may　think　it　well　to

let　it　remain　unread　until　I　shall　have　passed　away。　　If　in　his

judgment　it　throws　any　light　on　one　of　the　deeper　mysteries　of　our

nature；the　repulsions　which　play　such　a　formidable　part　in　social

life；　and　which　must　be　recognized　as　the　correlatives　of　the

affinities　that　distribute　the　individuals　governed　by　them　in　the

face　of　impediments　which　seem　to　be　impossibilities；then　it　may　be

freely　given　to　the　world。



But　if　I　am　here　when　the　leaves　are　all　fallen；　the　programme　of　my

life　will　have　changed；　and　this　story　of　the　dead　past　will　be

illuminated　by　the　l