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Updated: June 26, 2025
I have never been quite able to understand why He, with His power of clear discernment, should have precipitated Himself upon the Jewish and Roman power, and so perished, and at so early a day in His life." "So that the prophets might be fulfilled," said Case. "It may have been," resumed Sartliff.
This, ladies," with the same gay banter, "is the romance of the Judge's daughter and the poor student." "And I suspect," said Miss Giddings, seriously, "that it is about the literal truth of the affair, and it is more romantic than I had thought." "Barton has made the acquaintance of poor Sartliff," said Ida, willing to introduce a new subject, "and was much struck by him."
Of all the young men I have met, you have exhibited more capacity to comprehend me than any other, and I am beginning to feel the need of help," said Sartliff, plaintively. "God alone can help you," said Bart, "I cannot. You believe in this; to me it is a dream, with which my fancy, when idle, willingly toys. I like to talk with you. I sympathise with you; I cannot go with you.
"Who is that dark, singular-looking young man, with full beard and open throat? Is he a lawyer?" "That," said Case, sadly, "is Sartliff, the most brilliant intellect our region has produced; full of learning, full of genius and strange new thoughts! He is a lawyer, and should equal Daniel Webster." "What is the matter with him?" "God only knows! men call him crazy.
How sad and bitter seemed the untimely fate of his brother; and the meeting of this sweet and mourning girl lent another anguish to his heart, that was so slow in its recovery from that blow. The court ran on, grew irksome, and passed. Bart saw something more of Sartliff, and felt a melancholy interest in him.
You will have passed it before you have re-acquired the power to find it, and your life will be spent in a vain running to and fro, in search of it. Miracles have ceased to be wonders, for we work them by ordinary means now-a-days, and we don't know them when we meet them." Sartliff arose; he had been for sometime silent. His face was sad. "It may be.
"Well, love is human or inhuman," said Miss Giddings; "if the former, marriage is the specific; if the latter, his lady-love might get lost in a wood, you know." "Yes, I see. Poor Sartliff had better remain where he is, winking and blinking for the lights of Nature," said Bart.
This idea of finding new pathways, and new regions and realms, with new powers, of finding an opening from our day into the more effulgent, with new strange and glorious creatures, with new voices and forms, with whom we may communicate, is alluring, and may all lay within the realm of possibility. I don't say that to dream of it, is to be mad." "It is possible," said Sartliff with fervor.
"I remember," interposed Ida, "that he and your brother, among the matters they used to discuss, disagreed in their estimate of authors. Sartliff could never endure N.P. Willis, for instance." "A sign," said Miss Giddings, "that he was sane then, at least. Willis, in Europe, is called the poet's lap-dog, with his ringlets and Lady Blessingtons."
"My Dear Bart: Poor Sartliff has, it seems, finally found the way. It was that short, direct, everlasting old way, so crowded, which everybody finds, and nobody loses or mistakes. You told me of your last interview with him, as did he, not long after you left. It seemed to have depressed him. He spoke of you as one who could have greatly aided him, but did not blame you.
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