“I cannot do it! I cannot! Oh, God! it is too much! too much!” she cried, wringing her pale fingers in the extremity of anguish. The Tempter, ever watchful to take advantage of our weakest moment, whispered—That she need not do it! that she was not required thus to immolate her rich, warm young life! to leave _him_ bereaved! She was free to love him forever! for was he not her legal husband? She could fold her spirit’s bruised and weary wings and nestle down sweetly into his home and heart, held open to enfold her! The temptation was invincible, irresistible! it drew her soul onward with a mighty magnetism. “I faint—I yield—Oh, God! my God! come to aid! save, or I perish!” she cried, and suddenly lost all consciousness! A strange vision passed before her spirit. She was in the heart of a vast and dense forest whose tall, dark trees encircled and nodded over the banks of a lake of crystal clearness and unfathomable depth. She stood, frightened, and despairing, she knew not wherefore, until looking down into the dark, transparent waters, she beheld her husband, Lord Montressor, sinking, drowning! With a cry of desolation, she was about to cast herself into the lake, when she felt herself gently held back, and looking over her shoulder, she beheld a man of celestial presence, arrayed in flowing white garments, standing behind her, holding her by his left hand, while his right hand was lifted toward Heaven in a gesture of supreme majesty! Full of awe her gaze followed his index, and she beheld high in the Heavens, the ascending form of her husband. And so she understood that it was but the _reflected image_ of the ascending form, that she had mistaken for her husband sinking in the water! “And thus,” said the celestial Mentor—“the apparent perishing of the beautiful hopes of earth is but the inverted reflection of their translation to Heaven!” With this vision before her, with this voice in her ears, she gently opened her eyes—restored to full consciousness. How quiet after the tempest of emotion, was now her soul, how patient her spirit—how short and unreal, mortal and visible life seemed; how real and eternal the invisible and spiritual! Her whole being was calmed, and strengthened and elevated. Her first waking thoughts were prayers for courage, for fortitude! for oh! withal she needed a martyr’s firmness and heroism, to persevere and tread unflinchingly the dread path of duty she had chosen. Presently her maid stole in on tip-toe, and cautiously approached the couch. “I am not sleeping, Susan, child. You may ring and order lights,” the lady said. Susan obeyed. And when lights were brought and Susan could see her mistress’s face,— “You are better, my lady,” she said, cheerfully.