A TALE OF CONSCIENCE. BY E. C. A. VOL. I. FIRST AMERICAN, FROM THE SECOND LONDON EDITION. "In necessariis unitas, in dubiis libertas, in omnibus caritas." CALIFORNIA PHILADELPHIA: PUBLISHED BY EUGENE CUMMISKEY, A5 Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1839, by EUGENE CUMMISKEY, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. MIA OL Philadelphia: KING AND BAIRD, PRINTERS, No. 9 George Street. дас GERALDINE: A TALE OF CONSCIENCE. CHAPTER I. Each in his hidden sphere of joy or woe Ir was the hour of sunset, as from the oriel window of her apartment, Geraldine Carrington gazed o'er the broad lands of which she was heiress. The skies poured forth a flood of light and glory. The clouds reposing tranquilly above the distant hills, formed that mysterious combination of earth and sky, so emblematic of the soul of man; and their reflected hues sparkling in the far-stretched bend of the river, seemed, in each ripple of that moving joy, to bring beneath the feet of her who sadly mused, messages of peace, and hope, and love! For a time yielding to these sweet influences, Geraldine leaned yet farther from the casement to look around the utmost extent of country. To the right lay the old red town of Elverton, its ruined castle and mound standing in dark fantastic outline against the brilliant sky; and on the left reposed a deep and wooded valley, which presenting to the eye above the tops alone of the impervious trees, carried its 412394 VIMU rich carpeting between the hills, till all was lost in distance; while in the foreground stood, immovable in majesty, the stately trunks and rigid branches of many cedars. Along this valley, on a footpath formed on the hill-side, and far above the trees, were fixed, at intervals of some hundred yards, high whitened poles, a yellow pendant fluttered at the top of each, and a few detached figures moved in the measured tread of sentinels along the seemingly prohibited path. Geraldine's wandering and abstracted gaze rested at length on this line of demarcation; she started, sighed heavily, some deep emotion struggling in her breast. At this instant began the tolling of the city bell, when, wringing her hands, she sank upon her knees, and cried, "Oh my God! I cannot die! I cannot appear before thy throne in this bewilderment of mind. Oh! cause me to know the truth, thou who art all truth. Spare me till this be clear then take me to thyself! And oh! my God, calm thou this burning brain-send me some token of thy pity-give me back my wonted powers of mind, my courage, usefulness, my influence over others these all came from thee. Thou canst recal them all; yet not now-not in the time of this thy public chastisement, when those who have looked up to me require them. Oh my God, I cannot cease to implore thee till thou hast answered me!" -- As Geraldine half breathed, half pronounced, this supplication, there arose from the outskirts of the town a shout of mingled voices, and, as the sounds died murmuring away, another shout arose, another, and another, while a still small voice seemed to interpret them, "Geraldine, thy prayer is heard!" The hours now passed unheeded on, and the deepening shades of night were flung around, before the silent commune of her heart was interrupted by a kindly hand resting on her shoulder, while in a tone of tender reproach, "Geraldine !" said her favourite friend, "is it to be ever thus! That vigorous mind, that noble heart, are they laid prostrate at the sight of danger, and are those ties of kindred and friendship so forgotten, that self alone engrosses one who once lived but for others! Ah! dearest, when I look upon this change, I tremble for all human constancy, and think 'truly this is a living death." " "And would you see me welcome dangerdeath" said Geraldine, "give me back my ignorance, my prejudice, my blindness, and my peace. Let me think error, truth-delusion, certainty-and I will rush upon the tainted throng; will court the breath, will grasp the hand, of the first dying one, and hail the agonies which tear the frame, but free the soul to wing its flight above. "Your blindness and your peace, my Geraldine! Have you misled me then? Do you then love, and love unhappily?" Geraldine smiled. "Katherine, your woman's heart cannot suppose a feeling worthy to engross its depth and magnitude, but love, mere human love! But hear my heart declare its sentiments; that heart of which the waywardness, the passion, and the pride, you-you alone-have known in their full extent; hear me declare my present joy, that heaven forbade my early choice; that I have since escaped all ties that could have fettered me-that I am free to follow the truth whithersoever it may lead me." 66 Geraldine," gravely replied her friend, "my mind being calmly settled in its early faith, would I not gladly attribute your excitement and distress to some other cause than that of bias towards a creed, |