The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 03, January, 1858: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
General
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 03, January, 1858: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
Breathless with gazing on this lovely wonder, and forgetful for an
instant of everything save her presence, I withdrew my eye from the
microscope eagerly,--alas! As my gaze fell on the thin slide that
lay beneath my instrument, the bright light from mirror and from
prism sparkled on a colorless drop of water! There, in that tiny
bead of dew, this beautiful being was forever imprisoned. The planet
Neptune was not more distant from me than she. I hastened once more
to apply my eye to the microscope.
Animula (let me now call her by that dear name which I subsequently
bestowed on her) had changed her position. She had again approached
the wondrous forest, and was gazing earnestly upwards. Presently one
of the trees--as I must call them--unfolded a long ciliary process,
with which it seized one of the gleaming fruits that glittered on
its summit, and sweeping slowly down, held it within reach of Animula.
The sylph took it in her delicate hand, and began to eat. My
attention was so entirely absorbed by her, that I could not apply
myself to the task of determining whether this singular plant was or
was not instinct with volition.
I watched her, as she made her repast, with the most profound
attention. The suppleness of her motions sent a thrill of delight
through my frame; my heart beat madly as she turned her beautiful
eyes in the direction of the spot in which I stood. What would I not
have given to have had the power to precipitate myself into that
luminous ocean, and float with her through those groves of purple
and gold! While I was thus breathlessly following her every movement,
she suddenly started, seemed to listen for a moment, and then
cleaving the brilliant ether in which she was floating, like a flash
of light, pierced through the opaline forest, and disappeared.
Instantly a series of the most singular sensations attacked me. It
seemed as if I had suddenly gone blind. The luminous sphere was
still before me, but my daylight had vanished. What caused this
sudden disappearance? Had she a lover, or a husband? Yes, that was
the solution! Some signal from a happy fellow-being had vibrated
through the avenues of the forest, and she had obeyed the summons.
The agony of my sensations, as I arrived at this conclusion,
startled me. I tried to reject the conviction that my reason forced
upon me. I battled against the fatal conclusion--but in vain. It was
so. I had no escape from it. I loved an animalcule!
It is true, that, thanks to the marvellous power of my microscope,
she appeared of human proportions. Instead of presenting the
revolting aspect of the coarser creatures, that live and struggle
and die, in the more easily resolvable portions of the water-drop,
she was fair and delicate and of surpassing beauty. But of what
account was all that? Every time that my eye was withdrawn from the
instrument, it fell on a miserable drop of water, within which, I
must be content to know, dwelt all that could make my life lovely.
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