December Tales-William Harrison Ainsworth

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1:02because if you say yes to anyone, there's something you can do right now. So here we go. Gaining weight, no matter how disciplined you are, craving something sweet after every meal, feeling hungry again an hour after you eat. These are all signs your body isn't producing enough GLP1. The hormone that suppresses hunger, slows down digestion and supports weight loss, but fortunately you can boost your natural GLP1 production. And one of the easiest ways to do that is with Bioma GLP1 booster. With every serving you get science-backed and third-party tested ingredients, all working together to help your body produce more of this weight loss hormone on its own. Simply take two tiny Bioma GLP1 booster capsules each morning before breakfast. This way you can finally quiet the food noise, feel full with less food, and enjoy smoother weight management when following a healthy lifestyle. So again, if you said yes to anyone, here's what to do right now. Head to Bioma.Health slash GLP1 and use code podcast for 15% off your first order. That's Bioma.Health slash GLP1 code podcast.

2:03Real quick, if any of these sound familiar, there's something you can do right now, craving something sweet after every meal, hungry again an hour after you eat, weight won't budge, no matter how disciplined you are. These are all signs that your body isn't producing enough GLP1, the hormone that keeps you full and supports weight loss. The good news? Bioma GLP1 booster helps you increase its natural production. So you can quiet the food noise and enjoy smoother weight management when following a healthy lifestyle. Head to Bioma.Health slash GLP1 and use code podcast to get 15% off. Preface of December Tales by William H. Ainsworth This is a Libravox recording. A Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org, read by Ben Tucker. I turn now to my book, I notes Libra. Go forth, my brave anatomy, child of my brain, sweat, and ye candidi electoros. Low, here I give him up to you, even do with him what you please, my masters.

3:07Preface Along Preface, like along grace which detains the guests unseasonably from the feast, is both impertinent and tedious. I shall not therefore, in violation of my own maximum, oppose any unnecessary bar to the immediate enjoyment of the reader. But wishing him a fair appetite and good entertainment, suffer him to take up his knife, to cut into my pages, and begin. I am a poor, nameless, egotist, who have no vanities to consult by these confessions. I know not whether I shall be laughed at or heard seriously. Such as they are, I commend them to the reader's attention. If he finds his own case anyway touched, I have told him what I am come to. Let him stop in time. Eliah End of Preface 1. Section 1 of December Tales by William H. Ainsworth This liberal box recording is in the public domain, read by Ben Tucker.

4:10Mary Stucley My prime of youth is but a frost of cares. My feast of joy is but a dish of pain. My crop of corn is but a field of tears, and all my goods is but vain hope of gain. The day is fled and yet I saw no sun, and now I live, and now my life is done. Chidiak Titchborne I am no fatalist, but if ever individual was subject to the influence of a prevailing destiny, a destiny which has blighted his hopes and run counter to all the views and prospects of his life, and changed completely his situation, habits, feelings, and almost transformed him into a different being. I am that one. But I have no wish to extenuate my faults or crimes, with the flimsy excuse that my actions were controlled by some unknown but powerfully operating cause, compelling me to pursue a preordained course of existence. On the contrary, I am persuaded that such a doctrine is wholly inconsistent with the principles of religion and subversive of

5:13morality. No, I feel, I know that I was free from the first to choose between good and evil, that I had a perpetual option of adopting or rejecting any given course of action. Unhappily, my choice was an erroneous one. Nor did I perceive my mistake till it could not be rectified. Without violent passions and naturally disposed to quiet and retirement, I have been by a concurrence of circumstances reduced to a state of misery, which has dried up the natural current of my feelings, and rendered my heart, once the habitation of the tinderist emotions, a wilderness, and place of burning sorrow. The early years of my life I pass over as being of no importance to my story. They passed in a regular uninterrupted course of happiness, their days that we recur to with feelings of pleasure and regret, days of joy that once gone never again return. For life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim. Yet though we dwell on them with feelings of rapture, they are times of which little can be said by the biographer of his own life.

6:19Their very serenity and the uniformity of their placid delights precludes the possibility of making them part of a narration. Like a landscape of level country, which we look upon with pleasure, but without intense feelings of admiration, they present no prominent points of view on which a writer can dwell. It is with unusual occurrences, with narrations of deep misfortune or vivifying joy. The harsh rocks and dazzling beauties of the landscape of life that he has to deal. I was about the age when youth begins to be lost in manhood, when I saw Mary stucley. I was on a visit out of friends, rambling one morning among the most beautiful scenery I ever knew. I saw this fair creature. I saw and loved her. I know these first sight affections are not much in vogue at this time of day. I even acknowledge the justice of the ridicule, which is thrown out with an unsparing hand against them. Like most other reasoners, making an exception in favor of my own peculiar case. I lost no time in inquiring after the divinity who had engaged my heart, and learned

7:25that she was the daughter of a neighboring gentleman, a widower. I learned also that her pecuniary expectations were not great. But what was this to me? I had enough for us both. Besides, what lover of one and twenty ever inquired into his mistress's rent role, or sought for other treasures that were contained in her own lovely self. Real quick, does one of these sound like you, because if you say yes to anyone, there's something you can do right now. So here we go. Gaining weight, no matter how disciplined you are, craving something sweet after every meal, feeling hungry again an hour after you eat. These are all signs your body isn't producing enough GLP1. The hormone that suppresses hunger, slows down digestion, and supports weight loss. But fortunately, you can boost your natural GLP1 production. And one of the easiest ways to do that is with Bioma GLP1 booster. With every serving, you get science-backed and third-party tested ingredients. All working together to help your body produce more of this weight loss hormone on its own. Simply take two tiny Bioma GLP1 booster capsules each morning before breakfast.

8:26This way you can finally quiet the food noise, feel full with less food, and enjoy smoother weight management when following a healthy lifestyle. So again, if you said yes to anyone, here's what to do right now. Head to Bioma.Health slash GLP1 and use code podcast for 15% off your first order. That's Bioma.Health slash GLP1 code podcast. Real quick, if any of these sound familiar, there's something you can do right now. Craving something sweet after every meal, hungry again an hour after you eat. Weight won't budge, no matter how disciplined you are. These are all signs that your body isn't producing enough GLP1. The hormone that keeps you full and supports weight loss. The good news? Bioma GLP1 booster helps you increase its natural production. So you can quiet the food noise and enjoy smoother weight management when following a healthy lifestyle. Head to Bioma.Health slash GLP1 and use code podcast to get 15% off. Real quick, does one of these sound like you because if you say yes to anyone, there's something you can do right now. So here we go. Gaining weight, no matter how disciplined

9:28you are, craving something sweet after every meal. Feeling hungry again an hour after you eat. These are all signs your body isn't producing enough GLP1. The hormone that suppresses hunger, slows down digestion and supports weight loss. But fortunately you can boost your natural GLP1 production. And one of the easiest ways to do that is with Bioma GLP1 booster. With every serving you get science backed and third party tested ingredients. All working together to help your body produce more of this weight loss hormone on its own. Simply take two tiny Bioma GLP1 booster capsules each morning before breakfast. This way you can finally quiet the food noise, feel full with less food and enjoy smoother weight management when following a healthy lifestyle. So again, if you said yes to anyone, here's what to do right now. Head to Bioma.Health slash GLP1 and use code podcast for 15% off your first order. That's Bioma.Health slash GLP1 code podcast. She had a brother about a year older than herself. I wrote to my parents to obtain their

10:29approbation of my choice. It was easily granted and I assailed my charmer with all loves artillery of size, and in treaties and letters, and everything which I thought might win her smile. I was not altogether without success. She listened to me with patience, and I flattered myself with pleasure. I pressed my suit, and at last she acknowledged that she loved me. Beautiful visions of former happiness. Why must my reminiscences of joy be ever accompanied with a pain of the comparison of my past and present state? Yet though I reflect on it with the severest pain, there are thoughts connected with the subject, which I dwell upon, if not with pleasure yet with something approaching to it. I cannot help feeling a complacent emotion that remembering, that a being like Mary did not think me unworthy her esteem in affection. I love to think of the walks we have had together. When the mournful rustling of winds among the trees and long grass, and the lengthening shadows

11:29told us the approach of evening, I cannot forget the feelings with which I then looked upon the beauties of nature. My heart had not then lost its facility of receiving such impressions. It was not blunted with the attacks of grief, nor jaundiced with the bitterness of disappointment. Those were happy days when, with her hand clasped in mine, and her beautiful eyes beaming love, we wandered over plains and valleys. Where streaming mountains swell, there shadowy grandeur over the narrow del, where moldering piles and forests intervene, mingling with darker tents the living green, no circling hills the ravished eye to bound, heaven, earth, and ocean blazing all around. Such was my first love, and there are feelings in a first love which no subsequent attachment can yield. The realization of those visions that the imagination has long been want to create, and the mind to dwell upon, the floating and indistinct ideas, or beautiful from their very undefinedness of rapture and confidence and happiness,

12:34which the warmth of youthful feeling infuses into youthful hearts. The novelty of the emotion, the exquisite vibration of hope and fear and joy and sadness, the devotedness with which the soul is giving up to one object, and one passion conspire to give charms to the dream of first love, which are but faintly shadowed in a subsequent attachment. The day was fixed for our marriage, I anticipated it as may be conceived with ecstatic joy. I thought my bliss was certain. Alas, how soon was I to find the futility of such hopes? The evening before the appointed day I walked out alone to enjoy uninterrupted the pleasure of my varied emotions. Mary was at home reading a new work I had procured for her. It was a lovely summer's evening, the sun had set, the day had been intensely hot, and the lightning blazed from the sky and vivid sheets. I gazed on it with pleasure as it flashed from the ether, and was reflected on the rippling waves of the river which ran beside me. On the banks of the stream dark evergreens lifted

13:39their frowning tops, mingled with the lighter green of the willow and the beach. A lovely country spread itself around me in every direction, and the view was terminated by the dusky blue mountains that rose in dim majesty, scarcely distinguishable from the clouds that rolled on their tops. I stood to look on the scene and enjoy the freshness of the air. I was filled with pleasant musings. I was in a state of what might be called affluence. I was a lover and beloved, and the next day was to crown my happiness. How little I imagined what tomorrow would bring forth. That I should be a fugitive and a wanderer. While I was thus engaged a female passed by me at a little distance, she was above the middle size of a commanding appearance and the most expressive countenance I think I ever beheld. She was not perhaps what many might call beautiful, but I never knew anyone who possessed so much the power of interesting at a first look. Her face was rather pale, but the features were striking, and her dark eye threw a vivid intelligence over their expression.

14:44Her black hair was curled and ring-lints that clustered about her temples, and one lock waved it down upon a beautifully shaped neck. There was perceivable, too, lurking trance of darker passions, which seemed to be disguised under a habitually assumed look of softness. By her dress, she appeared below the middle station of society, but there was a dignity and ease in her manner, which repelled the idea. I, certainly, for the time, forgot the subjects of which I had been thinking, even Mary's image slipped from my mind. As she was pursuing her road, her foot slipped, and she fell. I flew to assist her, and inquired if her fall had done her injury. She complained of having sprained her ankle, and I offered my arm, which, after some excuses and apologies, she accepted. I really cannot tell how it was, but I felt a strange emotion at being thus situated. I was pleased—I certainly ought not then to have been pleased, at least peculiarly

15:44pleased, by the society of any woman, but one. I said I was pleased, but it was a pleasure, mixed with something like fear. There was something unaccountable about her, at least I thought so, which prevented me from feeling so at ease as I had always been with other females. A great part of this might be the fruit of imagination, for I had always a great inclination for the marvelous, and had spent many an hour in my younger days inframing plots of castles and giants, sphinxes, hypocrites and knights and ladies, all mighty terrific and wonderful. As I thought then, forms that bore a shadowy likeness to those fabled things that sprung of old from men's imaginings, each looked a fierce reality, or seemed, nourished among the wonders of the deep, and wilder than the poet ever dreamed. As we walked along, we converseed on various subjects. Her discourse was interesting, fluent, and animated. Perhaps too much so for it was interspersed with remarks whose general truth and well-directed pungency scarcely atoned for their freedom and boldness,

16:47which I did not altogether admire. Perhaps she perceived this for she changed the style of her conversation, and I began to listen to her with considerable delight. It may be mentioned, as an instance of my absence of mind whilst in her company, that I forgot to think, far less to inquire where we were going. Indeed, I seemed to be in a dream, a dream, the awakening from which has been terrible. We arrived at a spot, the most delightful I ever beheld, the earth sank into a kind of natural basin, the sides of which were covered with the highest green and enameled with the loveliest flowers, hairbells, daisies, wee crimson-tipped flowers, and denumerable others of all colors, gushed out in profusion. Water lilies waved their graceful heads on the brink of a spring that bubbled from the bottom of the spot, and oozing away through the long grass and weeds which impeded its progress, trickled down its narrow channel with almost imperceptible murmurings. My companion complained of increased pain, occasioned as she

17:49thought by walking, we sat down on a large stone which seemed to have lain there undisturbed by ages. A large oak spread over its branching arms, the massive growth of twice a hundred years, to which the ivy clung and twined about in fantastic readings. The magic of the spot, the light whispering of the winds through the quivering leaves, the gargling of the brook as it boiled in mimic rage over the stones and other obstacles which presented themselves to its course. The perfume of the air, the witching hour joined with a strange feeling of inquiitude, the cause of which I feared to search into, overpowered my senses, and unhinged my faculties. A thought of Mary intruded itself on me for the first time. I felt it, an intrusion, and strove to banish it. Meanwhile, my companion had remained silent. At last she spoke in a sportive manner, to me on the cause of my obstruction. I did not answer in, plucking a flower from the ground she offered it to me. I snatched at it. I caught her hand in mine. She smiled and I was at

18:55her feet. I was startled by the approach of a footstep. I looked up, and to my confusion beheld the brother of Mary. He had never been favorable to my passion for his sister, and I feared the worst consequences from his rage and disliked to me. I fled to him. He passed on and strove to avoid me, but I followed and overtook him. I said something about explanations. Sir, he replied, I wish for no further explanations. The thing explains itself. Meanwhile, I wish it present to be alone. I wish you a good night. I remonstrated with him and he replied in terms which, however warm, were, I must confess, authorized by my conduct. To be brief, our quarrel became serious. He gave me a challenge. I accepted it, and we parted. I rushed home in a state of madness. At the gate I met Mary. She laughed and playfully attempted to stop me, but I passed by with a violence that allowed no time for converse. I flew to my room and flinging myself into a chair, gave myself up to the flood of passion and misery that overwhelmed me. And when I reflected, it was misery. I'd been seduced. I could not

20:00think by what evil influence. From the allegiance I owed to Mary, to her who, tomorrow, should become my wife. And to err the nup-shall hour should arrive, I might be the murderer, where fallen by the hand of her brother. At any rate it was probable, almost certain, that he would disclose what he knew. It might be, nay, was it not likely that she should feel indignant at my conduct and cast me off as unworthy of her? I was filled with agonizing apprehensions, the tumult of my mind was dreadful. Real quick, does one of these sound like you, because if you say yes to anyone, there's something you can do right now. So here we go. Gaining weight, no matter how disciplined you are, craving something sweet after every meal, feeling hungry again an hour after you eat. These are all signs your body isn't producing enough GLP one. The hormone that suppresses hunger, slows down digestion, and supports weight loss. But fortunately you can boost your natural GLP one production. And one of the easiest ways to do that is with Bioma GLP one booster. With every serving you get science-backed and third-party tested

21:02ingredients. All working together to help your body produce more of this weight loss hormone on its own. Simply take two tiny Bioma GLP one booster capsules each morning before breakfast. This way you can finally quiet the food noise, feel full with less food, and enjoy smoother weight management when following a healthy lifestyle. So again, if you said yes to anyone, here's what to do right now. Head to Bioma.Health slash GLP one and use code podcast for 15% off your first order. That's Bioma.Health slash GLP one code podcast. I started or not in 2013 and we make bike apparel. The best part of Shopify for me is our ability to run the business as essentially non-technical people. We're able to admin everything on the back end, front end, and sell things online easily. If Shopify were a bike accessory, I think it would actually be the bicycle. It's the thing that you do the thing on. We run the business on Shopify. Start your free trial on Shopify.com.

22:20The hormone that suppresses hunger, slows down digestion, and supports weight loss. But fortunately, you can boost your natural GLP one production. And one of the easiest ways to do that is with Bioma GLP one booster. With every serving, you get science backed and third party tested ingredients. All working together to help your body produce more of this weight loss hormone on its own. Simply take two tiny Bioma GLP one booster capsules each morning before breakfast. This way you can finally quiet the food noise, feel full with less food, and enjoy smoother weight management when following a healthy lifestyle. So again, if you said yes to anyone, here's what to do right now. Head to Bioma.Health slash GLP one and use code podcast for 15% off your first order. That's Bioma.Health slash GLP one code podcast. In about an hour would be the time at which I was to meet Mary's brother. I took out my pistols and loaded them and was almost ready to use them to put an end to my existence. Whilst I was thus employed, I heard a gentle rap at the door. I went and opened it and found Mary.

23:24I went back and she followed me. The first thing she saw was my pistols which I had forgotten to conceal. What are these for? Was her question pointing to them. I was so confounded that for some time I could make no answer. At last I said that I'd been cleaning them. I looked at her, her eyes were swollen and inflamed with weeping, and I cursed myself for bringing misery on her. She held out her hand to me. What ails you? You seem unwell. I took her hand. Mary, forgive me, and I clasped her in my arms and wept over her in convulsive sorrow. She was alarmed at my behavior and earnestly entreated me to tell her the cause of it. I became more calm, she spoke with me for some time and I had resolved to disclose the whole to her. When the clock striking reminded me of my engagement, I threw myself on her neck, talked something incoherently about her brother, and snatching up my pistols I broke from her.

24:24I rushed in the state of desperation towards the place appointed for our meeting. When passing through a grove which sheltered the back of the house, someone caught me by the arm. I looked, and it was the detested being, the woman through whom I had brought myself into my present situation. I would rather have met with the sight of a basilisk. I endeavored to get away, but she commanded me to stay and I obeyed. You hate me, she said. I have been unwillingly the cause of your quarrel, with the brother of your intended wife. Nay, be patient, I am here to serve you. I overheard all I know where you are going, it is now in vain he is dead. Dead? I exclaimed who was dead? Speak, woman. Stuckly, for some time I could not speak. Horror and amazement deprive me of all power of utterance. Tell me how was this? Who did it? When or where was it? Immediately after I overheard the conversation between you and him, she continued, I left the spot, and in an hour after that time he was found murdered. No robbery had been

25:27committed on his person. His watch and what money he had were safe. Suspicion has fallen on you, and on me and why? Ask nothing, she replied. Time presses, in a short time you will, unless you save yourself by flight, be apprehended, the evidence that's strong against you, someone heard you quarrel, he was seen with no one else. As you returned you passed by the Deadman's Hill, as they call it, a place out of the common road, and near where the body was found. Your strange behavior when you arrived at the house was noticed by the servants. Whether you are guilty or not, you know best. I've told you what I've heard, but haste, every moment brings increasing danger. There are horses in the stable. She dragged me on for I was so bewildered with the dreadful information, that I possessed scarcely any power over myself. We stopped at the stable door, she left me, and in a few moments brought forth a horse, which she herself saddled and bridled. No, said I, I will not fly, I am innocent and fear nothing.

26:28This is mere madness, she rejoined, fly for the present, hereafter you may return. The real murderer will probably be discovered, circumstances now overpower you, and you must yield to them. In the state of confusion in which I was, I was easily prevailed upon to do anything. That is your safest road. Go to London, there you may be safe, and choir for John Bell, the basket-maker in Blanx Street. I will overtake you, conceal yourself, but you will want money, take this, and she put a purse seemingly well furnished into my hand. I endeavored to thank her. I forgot what evil she had been the cause of to me. Say nothing, she interrupted. Remember the misery I've brought upon you, perhaps? She added, you will not forget that I have endeavored to a tone for it. There was something in her words and manner that touched me. Someone comes, she said, begon, farewell. She disappeared and I pursued as swiftly as I could the road she had pointed out to me. In the evening of the next day I arrived at the metropolis, faint and weary with exertion.

27:33My first course was to inquire for the place to which I had been directed. I found it with considerable difficulty. It was a small, dirty, uncomfortable house, but any place of refuge was acceptable. I inquired if I could have lodgings here. The man eyed me narrowly and beckoning to his wife. I, supposed to look well after me, he went into a back room from which he soon returned and asked me in. I entered and found to my surprise the woman whom I had left when I departed from P. She perceived my astonishment and said, you see, I am a quick traveler. I came by a, nearer but more public road than you, which is the reason of my being here before you. She then ordered in some refreshment which we ate together. We spoke little and I shortly retired for the night. I retired, but not to rest, for the tumult of my thoughts affectionately precluded sleep. Two days before I was happy, all my wishes were about to be crowned with fulfillment, and I had scarce a hope or desire for more. And now, how different was my state.

28:39I was a fugitive and a wanderer, a proclaimed felon, branded as a murderer, compelled to shun society and to hide myself from the light of day. And Mary, what would she think of my conduct? I was charged with the murder of her brother. I had fled from justice, and of course my guilt would be proclaimed. And would she too think me a villain, which he banished me from her memory or think of me only with hatred and abhorrence? These were questions I feared to answer. Appearances were strongly against me, and though hope whispered that Mary would frame excuses for my conduct and disbelieve the story of my guilt, yet it was possible. It was most probable that it would be otherwise. From Mary, my thoughts turned to her who had been the cause of this misery. Mary. There certainly was something in her that excited not mere interest. It was not admiration, but she was rather to be feared than admired. It was something which powerfully attracted my thoughts towards and kept her idea almost continually in view. I was unable to discover why she had taken any

29:46interest in me. For that she did so, her conduct made evident. Why should she follow me, assist, and conceal me? What could I be to her? Before that fatal day I had never to my knowledge so much has seen her. I ran over the events of the evening when I saw her. I could scarcely think that accident alone had produced the meeting which had led to such important consequences. Then the murder of Mary's brother happening at that exact time and attended with such circumstances perplexed me, such were the thoughts which for a long time prevented me from reposing in slumber. At last I slept, but my sleeping were more dreadful than my waking hours. Horde visions thronged around me. Now I saw the murdered stuccoly struggling with someone whose features I could not perceive and crying out for vengeance against his murderer. Then the vision would appear and in its place was Mary. Pail and frantic, seeking for him who had injured her. These and a thousand other fantasies of a light nature rose up to my distempered fantasy.

30:52At last morning came and drove them away, but it was only to be succeeded by real and heartfelt miseries. For near a month I continued here, during the whole of which I saw no one but the man of the house, his wife, and Eliza, or so she desired me to call her. The conduct of this last was singular. To all my inquiries as to her motives for attending to me, etc. she gave me non-but general answers, which afforded me no information. Her behavior was contrary to my expectation, particularly delicate, and seemingly that of a woman accustomed to the higher ranks of society. Let it be not imagined that any affection for her existed in my breast, all feelings of that nature were swallowed up in the attachment which, although hopeless, I still nourished for Mary. At last a circumstance occurred which explained in some manner the motives of her conduct. One morning, whilst I was sitting in my wretched chamber, I was alarmed by a noise below as of several persons quarreling. I started up, and in a moment after Eliza rushed into the room.

31:54"'You are lost,' she exclaimed. Here are the officers of justice.' "'What?' said I. Is there no refuge?' "'Well, then,' I added, after a moment's pause. Let them come. I am ready for them." "'No, no,' she answered. It must not be so. I cannot lose you thus. I love you, promise to me that I shall be your wife, and I will save you.' "'No, never. I will perish first,' was my answer. I cannot bear the thought of ruining by one blow all my hopes of being united to marry.' The officers were approaching the door. "'Deside,' said my companion. In a moment it will be too late.' The thought of my situation, of the ignominious death to which I should probably be doomed, rushed into my mind. I shuddered at the prospect and almost fainting with agitation, I promised. Eliza opened a door, which I had never before seen. It had been concealed by an old screen, which was placed before it, and we descended into a kind of cellar. "'Now you are safe,' said she. No one but myself was acquainted with this place.'

32:58Here we remained till the noise above had for some time entirely ceased. At last my companion ventured up the steps by which we had descended, and returning a short main that the coast was clear, and I ascended into the room. We sat down, and for some time continued silent, and without looking at each other. At last I turned my eyes towards her. She looked at me with a fixed and steady gaze, as if to pierce into the recesses of my soul. She rose. She advanced to me. "'Do you remember your promise?' I do, and I'm ready to fulfill it. Was my reply.' "'You are ready to fulfill it,' said she. "'You are ready to give your hand when you cannot give your heart.' "'We silent,' she continued, as she perceived I was about to interrupt her. "'You are ready to marry a woman whom you do not cannot love. I, when you love another, when—' "'This is too much,' I exclaimed. Why am I being thus tormented? I've promised. I am willing

34:02to perform what I've promised. What more do you require?' "'Nothing. Nay, not so much. Think not that I am so vile a one, that, though a wretched and airing woman I am so swallowed up in selfishness, that I have lost all feeling that, though I love an avowate to you, I would make you mine by compelling you to sacrifice all that is dear to you.' Her voice faltered. She turned away. In a moment after collecting herself, she added, "'I release you from your promise,' she sank upon a chair and wept. "'I was now placed in a situation most embarrassing to me. I saw before me a woman who loved me, for I could not doubt the truth of what she said. And yet when she had it in her power to indulge her wishes by compelling the performance of my promise, she had generously disdain to take advantage of it, but it left me free to follow the best of my inclination. And what return was I to make this behavior? Was I to consider myself as released from my engagement and inflict misery upon

35:05one who had watched over me and taken so deep an interest in my fate? I could not do it. I resolved to marry her. Probably I was influenced in this determination by the improbability of ever being united to her whom my heart had chosen as its fondest object of adoration. To be the husband of Mary seemed almost out of the reach of possibility. I walked up to Eliza. I took her hand. It is useless to relate our conversation. We were married. I was married to whom. Stranges may appear I never knew. Indeed, when I look over this part of my life, I am inclined to regard the whole of it as a troubled dream, but the effects which I still fatally experience tell too plainly that it was reality and reality alone, which has wrought so great a change in me. Eliza was a woman, certainly of very superior talents, probably of violent and irregular passions. Of these, however, I know little.

36:08During the short period of our union, her conduct was without reproach. Her faults, perhaps I am, making use of too lenient an expression, were those of a strong mind unrestrained by prudence, or the force of early restriction. The stream which, if confined within proper limits, would have moved on in gentle calmness, spreading fertility in its course, if abandoned to its unchecked violence rushes on a sweeping torrent of destruction. So had it been with her, and such will ever be the effect when a too vigorous imagination and talented confidence urged their possessor to pass the bounds which society has imposed upon its members. Three days after this event, the real murderer of Stucley was discovered. I might now return in safety to my home and to my friends, but there was one to whom I could not return. That happiness I had forfeited. I determined never again to see Mary. I removed with Eliza to a small house at a considerable distance from

37:09the place in which I'd been so long and meward. She excelled in painting and needlework, and the produce of her labors maintained us both. I could not bear, however, to subsist by her exertions alone and I resolved when my health, which had been injured by my long confinement, was in some degree restored, to return and claim my property. It was near four months before I was able to commence my journey. I departed, however, and the next day brought me to my habitation. The congratulation of friends, the rejoicing of domestics and other circumstances which took place at my return, are of too little importance to my narrative to be dwelt upon. In the course of a week my affairs were completely arranged and I prepared to revisit London. It was a little past sunset when I passed the residence of Mary. What conflicts of emotions thronged upon my mind, how short a time had passed over since at this very spot I'd walked with her, whom I loved, and the bower in which we had sat at evening and watched the beautiful setting of the sun as he

38:11sunk enveloped in clouds of many a varied hue. I could not resist the temptation of again taking a look at the beloved scenes. I was beside the old tree and sprang over the wall. I was surprised by a faint shriek. I turned round, in a moment I held Mary in my arms. With what mingled feelings I pressed her to my breast. Joy almost amounting to rapture at again clasping the object of my affection. Sorrow, shame and disappointment, embittered the meeting. She had heard, of course, of the discovery of the murder of her brother and rejoiced in the proof of my innocence. She inquired after the motives and manner of my escape and where I had been since. I answered her questions, suppressing every circumstance relating to my wife. She pressed me to enter the house and assured me that her friends were much interested in my fate. I suffered myself to be prevailed on. Why should I delay to complete my narration? I loved her. Some months passed over and we were married.

39:13I know not what it was that thus far blunted the stings of conscience, but after this second marriage I was miserable. In vain I found myself beloved and esteemed by all around me. I could not, esteem, I could not do otherwise than hate myself. I reflected on my conduct towards Eliza, on her devotedness to me, which ought in my eyes to have counterbalanced all her failings. I was indeed most miserable. My spirits sunk. I was haunted by fearful visions, and I was wary of my existence. Mary perceived it and inquired anxiously into the cause of it. I evaded her questions for a considerable time. At last I confessed the whole to her. From that moment her health declined, to think that she had united herself to one who had behaved so basically to another of her own sex was terrible to her. She said little, but I perceived that the blow had struck to her heart and I did test it myself as the cause of it. It seemed as if I was destined to be the destruction

40:14of all who loved, trusted, and confided in me. One evening we were seated in the bower where, in happier days, we had enjoyed such pure and unalloyed bliss. She had been in better health that day than for some time. We conversed with a pleasure which we had not felt for many, along in tedious day before. Towards the close of the evening she lost her vivacity and became more thoughtful and pensive. Leaning her head on my breast she said with a hollow voice, I must leave you. I was alarmed. I pressed her cheek to my lips. She attempted to rise but sink on the ground. I am dying. I caught her in my arms. She was dead. I have long been a wanderer. I have sought for rest but in vain. The burning sting of remorse has wrinkled in my breast and life has long been a burden to me. I have made many inquiries after Eliza but in vain. Peace be to her. In her good or bad quality is probably no one now as interested but the wretched solitary who

41:16pins these lines. She will, with him, be forgotten. Oblivion, the refuge of the miserable, will shroud our names in its gloomy curtain. Perhaps it might have been as well if Oblivion had suffered to fall over the events contained in this imperfect narrative, instead of adding another to the already countless records of human follies and of human crimes. But it may serve to show the evil effects which ensue from the first false step. They cannot be foretold and are irremediable. I have been loved and now I am unknown and uncharried for. I had friends and am desolate. I have striven to bury my solo in the world of giddy pleasure. But pleasure has lost its excitement and is succeeded by linger and disappointment. I might yet have known something like composure but the very source of happiness was dried up. The sensibilities of my nature were blunted. The spring of the gentle affections flows no longer. Apathy and despair are all that I can expect.

42:21Oh, could I feel as I felt or be what I have been or weep as I could once have wept or many have vanished seen as springs and deserts found seem sweet all brackish though they be. So, mid the withered waste of life, those tears would flow to me. End of section one, Mary Stucley. Section two of December Tales by William H. Ainsworth. The slipper box recordings in the public domain, read by Ben Tucker. Blow breezes blow, the stream runs fast, the rapids are near and the daylight's past. The falls of Ohio Pile. Go where the water glides gently ever, glides by meadows that the greenest be. On the west of the Allegheny Mountains rise the branches of the Yaka-Gainy River,

43:22the surrounding country is fertile and woody and presents strong attractions for the sportsman, as does also the river, which abounds in fish. These were the principal considerations which induced me in the autumn of the year 1812 to ramble forth with my dog and gun amid uninhabited solitudes, almost unknown to human footstep, and where nothing has heard but the rush of winds and the roar of waters. On the second day after my departure from home, pursuing my amusement on the banks of the river I chanced to behold a small boat, fastened by a rope of twisted grass to the bank of the stream. I examined it and finding it in good condition I determined to embrace the opportunity that presented itself of extending my sport, and my fishing tackle was put in requisition. I entered into the diminutive vessel, notwithstanding the remonstrances of my four-footed companion, who, by his barking, whining and delaying coming on board, seemed to entertain manifold objections to the conveyance by water, a circumstance which somewhat surprised me.

44:27At last, however, his scruples being overcome, he entered into the boat, and I rode off. My successfully equaled my expectations, an evening overtook me before I thought of dissting from my employment. With there were attractions to a lover of nature which forbade my leaving the element on which I was gliding along. I have mentioned that it was autumn, immense masses of trees whose fading leaves hung trembling from the branches, ready to be born away by the next gust, spread their dark brown boundary on every side. To me this time of the year is indescribably beautiful. I love to dwell upon those sad and melancholy associations that suggest themselves to the mind when nature and her garb of decay presents herself to the eye. It reminds me that human pride and human happiness, like the perishing things around us, are hastening rapidly onto their decline, that the spring of life flies, that the summer of manhood passeth away, and that the autumn of our existence lingers but a moment for the winter of death,

45:30which will close it forever. The light winds that blew over the water curled its surface and waves that, breaking as they fell, dashed their sparkling foam and showers around. The sun was sinking behind the mountains in the west, and shone from amid the surrounding clouds. His last rays glittered on the waters, entenched with a mellow and somber luster, the embrown foliage of the trees. The whole scene spoke of peace and tranquility, and I invine not the bosom of that man who could gaze upon it with one unholy thought, or let one evil feeling intrude upon his meditations. As I proceeded the beauty of the surrounding objects increased, immense oaks twisted about their gigantic branches covered with moss. Laughty evergreens expanded their dark and gloomy tops, and smaller trees and thick shrubs filled up the spaces between the larger trunks, so as the form an almost impervious mass of wood and foliage. As the evening advanced, imagination took a wider range, and added to the natural

46:32embellishments. The obscure outline of the surrounding forest assumed grotesque forms, and fancy was busy in inventing them probabilities, and clothing each ill-defined object in her own fairy-guises. The blasted and leafless trunk of a lightning-skate pine would assume the form of some hundred-headed giant, about to hurl destruction on the weaker fashionings of nature. As the motion of the boat varied the point of view, the objects would give way to another, and another, and another. In all the endless variety of lights and distances, distant castles, chivalric knights, captive damsels, and attendants, dorses and squires, with their concomitant monsters, griffens, dragons, and all the creations of romance were conjured up by the fairy-wond of fantasy. On a sudden, the moon burst forth, in all her silvery luster, and the sight of the reality, effectually banished all less substantial visions. Then transparent clouds, so light and fragile, that they seemed scarce to afford a resting place

47:34for the moonbeams that trembled on them, glided along the sky. The dense masses that skirted the horizon were fringed with the same radiance, while, rising above them, the evening star twinkle-diminished solitary rays. I could not be said to fuel pleasure. It was rapture that throbbed in my heart at the view. My carers, my plans, my very existence were forgotten in the flood of intense emotions that overwhelmed me, at thus beholding in their pride of loveliness, the works of the creating spirit. In the meantime, the boat sailed rapidly onwards, with a velocity so much increased that it awakened my attention. This, however, I attributed to a rather strong breeze that had sprung up. My dog, who had, since his entrance into the boat, lain pretty quiet, began to disturb me with his renewed barkings, fawnings, and supplicating gestures. I imagined that he wished a land, and, as the air was becoming chill, I felt no objection to comply with his wishes.

48:36Unlooking around, however, and seeing no fit place of landing, I continued my course, hoping shortly to find some more comodious spot. Very great, however, was the dissatisfaction of Carlo at this arrangement, but, in spite of his unwillingness, he was obliged to submit, and we sailed on. Shortly, however, my ears were sailed by a distant rumbling noise, and the agitation of my companion, redoubled. For some time he kept up an uninterrupted howling, seemingly under the influence of great fear or bodily pain. I now remarked that, though the wind had subsided, the rapidity of the boat's course was not abated. Seriously, alarmed by these circumstances, I determined to quit the river as soon as possible, and sought, with considerable anxiety for a place where I might buy any means land. It was in vain, high banks of clay met my view on both sides of the stream, and the accelerated motion of the boat presented an obstacle to my taking advantage of any irregularities in them, by which I might otherwise have clambered up to land.

49:36In a short time my dog sprung over the side of the boat, and I saw him with considerable difficulty, obtained a safe landing. Still, he looked at me wistfully and seemed undecided whether to retain his secure situation, or returned to his master. Terror had now obtained complete dominion over me. The rush of the stream was tremendous, and I now devine to well the meaning of the noise which I have mentioned. It was no longer an indistinct murmur. It was the roar of a cataract, and I shuddered and grew cold to think of the fate to which I was hurrying, without hope of sucker, or a twig to catch at to save me from destruction. In a few moments I should, in all probability, be dashed to atoms on the rock, or well amid the boiling waves of the waterfall. I sickened at the thought of it. I'd heard of death, I'd seen him in various forms, I'd been camps where he rages, but never till now did he seem so terrible. Still, the beautiful face of nature which attempted me to my fate was the same. The clear sky, the moon, the silvery and fleesy clouds were above me,

50:37and far high in the heaven with the same dazzling brightness shown the stars of evening, and in their tranquillity seemed to deride my misery. My brain was oppressed with an unusual weight, and a clamming moisture burst out over my limbs. I lost all sense of surrounding objects, a mist was over my eyes, but the sound of the waterfall roared in my ears and seemed to penetrate through my brain. Then, strange fancies took possession of my mind, things of whose shape I could form no idea would seize me, and whirl me around till sight and hearing fled. Then I would start from delusion as from a dream, and again the roar of the cataract would ring through my ears, these feelings succeeded each other with indefinite rapidity. For more than a very few minutes could not have elapsed from the time I became insensible to the time of my reaching the waterfall. Suddenly I seemed wrapped along inconceivably swift, and in a moment I felt that I was descending, or rather, driven headlong with amazing violence and rapidity, than a shock, as if my frame had been

51:39rent and atoms succeeded, and all thought or recollection was annihilated. I recovered in some degree to find myself dashed into a watery abyss from which I was again vomited forth to be again plunged beneath the waves and again cast up. As I rose to the surface I saw the stars dimly shining through the mist and foam and heard the thunder of the falling river. I was often, as well as I can remember partly lifted up from the water, but human nature could not bear such a situation long, and I became gradually unconscious of the shocks which I sustained. I heard no longer the horrible noise, and in sensibility afforded me a relief from my misery. It was long before I again experienced any sensation. At last I awoke, as it seemed to me, from a long and troubled sleep, but my memory was totally ineffectual to explain what or where I was. So great had been the effect of what I had undergone that I retained not the slightest idea of my present or former existence.

52:40I was like a man newly born, in full possession of his faculties. I felt all that consciousness of being, yet ignorant of its origin, which I imagine a creature placed in the situation I have supposed would experience. I know not whether I make myself intelligible in this imperfect narrative of my adventure, but some allowance will I trust be made in consideration of the novel situation and feelings which I have to describe. I looked around the place in which I was. I lay on a bed of coarse materials and a small but airy chamber. By slow degrees I regained my ideas of my own existence and identity, but I was still totally at a loss to comprehend by what means I came into such a situation. Of my sailing on the river, of my fears and unpleasant sensations, and of being dashed down the falls of Ohio Pile, I retained not the slightest recollection. I cast my eyes around in hopes of seeing some person who had given me some information of my situation, and of the means by which I was placed in it, but no one was visible. My next thought was to rise and seek out the

53:44inhabitants of the house, but on trial my limbs were I found two weeks to assist me. In patience was my only alternative. After this I relapsed into my former insensibility into which state I continued a considerable time. Yet I had some occasional glimpses of what was passing forward about me. I had some floating reminiscences of an old man who I thought had been with me, and a more perfect idea of a female form which had flitted around me. One day I lay half sensible on my bed. I saw this lovely creature approach me. I felt the soft touch of her fingers on my brow, and though the pressure was as light as may be conceived from human fingers, it thrilled through my veins, and lingered in my confused remembrance. The sound of her voice, as she spoke in a low tone a few words to the old man, was music to me. Her bright eyes, tempered with the serenity of a pure and blameless mind, beamed upon me with such an expression of charity and benevolence as I had never before beheld.

54:47During the whole time of my illness, those white fingers, those bright blue eyes, and the sound of that voice were ever present to my diseased imagination, and exerted a soothing influence over my distempered feelings. At length the darkness that had obscured my mind and memory passed away, I was again sensible and could call to mind with some little trouble a considerable part of the accidents that had beenfalling me. Still, however, the idea of my passing over the brink of the rocks over which the river precipitates itself, the shock which I experienced when dashed down the cataract and of my terrible feelings, I had a very slight and confused idea. I now longed more ardently than before for someone from whom I might gather information, concerning those things which were unknown to me. My strength being in some degree recruited, I endeavored to rise and succeeding in the attempt by examined the room in which I lay, but no one was there. My next labor and work of labor I found it was to put on some clothes which

55:50I found deposited on a chair. Being equipped, therefore, as fully as circumstances would admit, I commenced my operations. My first step was to enter into an adjoining room which, fearful of trespassing on forbidden ground I did with some trepidation. This room was, however, likewise, destitute as I thought of inhabitants, and I was about to retire when the barking of a dog arrested my attention. And turning round I beheld with no small satisfaction, my old fellow traveler, Carlo. Shall I attempt to describe our meeting? It was the language of the heart, inexpressible in words that spoken, sparkling eyes and joist gambles of my dog, and I was busily engaged in patting him when turning round I perceived that our privacy had been intruded upon. The beautiful creature on whom my wandering fancy had dwelt, stood looking at us, supporting with one arm the old man her father, while on the other hung a basket of flowers. I stood gazing at them without speaking. I know not what magic made me dumb, but not a word

56:51escaped my lips. She was the first to speak, and expressed her joy at seeing me able to depart from my couch, chiding me at the same time for so doing without leave. I said she smiling, and at present your physician, and I assure you that I shall exercise the power which I have over you as such, and as rigorous a manner as possible. I, added the father, like all your sex, you love to make the most of the little power you have. But, added he, we should not thus salute a guest by threatening him with subjection. He is our guest and not our captive. By this time I had recovered the use of my tongue and began to express my gratitude for their kindness, and my sorrow at the trouble, which I was conscious I must have occasioned to them. But my politeness was cut short by the frank assurance of my host that I was welcome, reiterated more gently, but not less warmly, by his lovely daughter. Carlo and I were now separated much against the wishes of both, but my fair physician

57:52was inexorable, and I was compelled to turn in again, and Siemens varies till the morrow, and to suspend for the same time my curiosity. The next day at length came, and I requested my entertainers to favor me with answers to the questions which I should propose to them. They smiled at my eagerness and promised to satisfy my curiosity. It was easily done. The old man had a son who, passing by the falls of Ohio Pile some nights before in the evening, was attracted by the moanings and lamentations of a dog, and descending to the bottom of the fall perceived me at the riverside, where I had been entangled among some weeds and straggling roots of trees. From the situation he had a great difficulty, first in reaching me, and having succeeded in that point, in conveying me to his father's dwelling, where I found I had lain several days till, by his daughters, unremitting attention, the old man himself being unable materially to assist me, and the son compelled to depart from home on urgent business, I'd been restored. If not to hell, to a state of comparative strength, which promised to terminate in complete restoration. Such were the facts which I contrived to

58:56gather from the discourse of my host and his daughter, not what standing there softening down, or slightly passing over everything, the relation of which might seem to claim my gratitude, or tend to their own praise. As to themselves, my host was a Pennsylvania farmer, who underpressure of misfortune had retired to the spot, where the exertions of the son suffice for the support of the whole family, and the daughter attended to the household duties and to the comfort of the father. When the old man and his daughter had answered my queries, I renewed my thanks, which were, however, again cut short. If they had been of service to a fellow-creature, it was in itself a sufficient reward, even if they had suffered any inconvenience from assisting me, which they assured me was not the case. Many other good things were said at the time, which I forget, for shall I confess it, the idea that all that had been done for me was the effect of mere general philanthropy, displeased me. When I looked at the lovely woman who had nursed me with sister-like affection, I could not bear to reflect that any other placed in a similar situation might

59:58have been benefited by the same care, been watched over with equal attention, greeted with the same good-natured smile. In short, that I was cared for no more than any other and valued and taken care of merely as a being of the same species with themselves, to whom equally with any other their sense of duty taught them to do good. In a day or two, my health was so much improved that I was permitted to walk out in small garden, which surrounded the cottage. Great was my pleasure in looking at this humbled dwelling. It statched roof with patches of dark green moss and beautiful verdure. It's white walls and chimney with the reeds of smoke curling above it. The neat glazed windows, the porch and its stone seat at the door, the clean pavement of white pebbles before it. The green grass flat edged with shells and stones and flowers and jimmed with wee modest daisies, and the moss rose in the middle, where to me objects on which my imagination could revel forever. And I sighed to think that I must shortly part from them.

1:01:00It remained for me in some manner to show my gratitude before I parted from my benevolent host, but I was long before I could settle the thing to my mind. I felt unhappy too at the thought of leaving the old man. His whitewashed cottage is garden and is beautiful and good daughter. And yet it cannot be helped, I repeated again and again. How happy I should be, I thought, in this lovely spot. And perhaps the daughter, dare a man at first acknowledge even to himself that he is in love. And why should I not be happy? I am married, need I say to whom. And the whitewashed cottage with its mossy thatch have the same attractions for me. Nay, more, for it is endeared by the ties of love, of kindred and of happiness. I have lived in it nine years, my children flock around me, my wife loves me, and her father is happy in seeing her happy. Her brother is flourishing in his business, and none in our family are dissatisfied or in want.

1:02:03Often do I thank God for my blessings and look back with pleasure to the day when I passed the falls of Ohio Pile. End of section two, the falls of Ohio Pile. Section three of December tales by William H. Ainsworth. This liberal vox recordings in the public domain, read by Ben Tucker. When we shall hear the rain and wind beat dark December how, in this hour-pension cave, shall we discourse the freezing hours away. Symboline. The Englisher's story. I am dead to all pleasures, my true love is gone. Oh, Willow, Willow, Willow, Willow, Oh, Willow, Willow, Willow, Sing, oh, the green willow shall be my garland. At the latter end of the year 1819, I accepted an invitation to pass a week at the habitation of a friend in Scotland, and, accordingly, made all due preparations for the journey,

1:03:07and took my place in the vehicle, which commences its periodical excursions from the small town containing my residence. It is not needful to describe the busy preparations for the event, the fidgeting of my ants, for I am blessed with three. The rising at four o'clock to set off at seven, and the endless train of et cetera's, which every traveller is well acquainted with. I departed in the velocity, for so the vehicle was named Lucas Anon Luchindo. I presume in company with a French dancing master, a scotch merchant, and the wife of a Welsh curate. Nothing remarkable happened during the journey, which was performed in mute silence, except when an extraordinary jolt of the carriage drew forth an occasional ejaculation from my fellow travellers, and I at last arrived at the place of my destination. My friend's house, a marvelous, ill-fashioned edifice stood upon the top of an eminence at the foot of which a muddy pool, passing by the name of pond, served as a school to initiate some young of the duck tribe in the art and mystery of swimming. The house itself, though completely void of all shape, was large,

1:04:12and the hospitable reception within, made ample recompense for the uncouthness of the exterior. I was ushered by a servant in ancient delivery into a parlor where seated around the fire I found the Lord, Mr. Im Farraghan, his wife and only daughter, two neighbouring gentlemen, Mr. Wappeldon and Mr. Baldamir, a young English lady in his summer set with her brother, and in elderly Dame Mrs. Tiverton, all of whom worked like myself visitors. Being somewhat tired with my journey in the evening, far advanced, I retired early to rest, to sleep off the fatigues of the day. The next morning I took a survey of my friend's castle. It was, as I have before said, not remarkable for its elegance or the harmonious proportion of its parts. The body of the building had been originally of a square shape, but it abounded with wings which had been appended to it by succeeding occupiers, and was accommodated with numerous high and narrow apertures, filled with minute pains of glass, which served as an apology for windows, though the architect

1:05:13seemed to have been perfectly ignorant of any such thing as regularity in their disposition. The roof was adorned with towers of all descriptions, some round, some square, and some of a shape which would have baffled the skill of the most experienced professor of octahedrons and polygons to give a name to, and which sprouted out in beautiful confusion, like the horns of the beast and the revelations. The day passed pleasantly in conversation and various amusements, for the weather prohibited all excursion beyond the walls, and in the evening we told stories, the first of which related by Henry Somerset, the young Englishman, I hear, introduce. It was on the close of a fine day in July, and I walked out to enjoy an evening ramble. The day had been warm and the breeze that rustled amongst the leaves with cooling melody was inexpressibly grateful. The sun was just sinking behind the mountains, whose dark masses bounded the view on the west and lighted up the clouds that gathered round him with a blaze of glory, which glittered through the trees with the most delightful splendor. The inhabitants of the neighboring villages had

1:06:18retired to rest, and no sound interrupted the silence which brooded over the scene, save the gentle murmurs of the wind, and the occasional bark of the distant watchdog. It is sweet to walk in places and at times like these, when the mind loosened from the weight of subjects which have oppressed it during the busy day, springs with renovated buoyancy to commune with the spirit of nature. When shaking off the cumbersome load of earthly inquietude, she roams in freedom through the boundless expanse not fettered to the present. Memory kindly lends her aid to conjure up the past, and fancy leads her on to contemplate the future. I arrived in my ramble at a spot which nature seemed to have chosen, to blend all her powers of charming. The dark foliage which grew around through a soft and melancholy shade upon the scene, the beautiful wild flowers loaded the air with their simple perfume, while the wind, which here side with a deeper murmur, accorded well with the rippling of a brook that rolled over the white and shining pebbles,

1:07:19winding along in intricate mazes, till the eye lost its track among the thick underwood, which flourished on its margin. It was a spot which a poet would have hung over with rapture, a painter would have loved to delineate on his canvas, and which an angel might have lingered to gaze upon and thought it eaten. So intent was eyeing and miring this natural garden, that it was some time before I perceived a cottage which reared its datched roof under the shade of a venerable chestnut that spread its giant arms far broad on every side. I wish to know who were inhabitants of this terrestrial paradise, and therefore approached and knocked gently at the door the threshold of which was embroidered by honey-suckles, that twined around it and kissed the projecting cottage roof. It was opened by an elderly woman, the very personification of hospitality. She invited me to enter, which I did, after apologizing for my intrusion, and offering my long walk as an excuse for resting myself. I had now an opportunity of observing the interior of

1:08:22the building, or at least of the part where I sat. It was a small, low apartment, but the white washed walls, the clean windows, whose small pains of glass were partly obscured by the shrubs, which climbed around them, and the bright rows of well-polished potlids and other culinary utensils gave an air of neatness and industry to the room. Near the fireplace sat an old man, seemingly much oppressed by age and pain, but his welcome was hearty, though unpolished, and his furrowed cheeks and snowy locks gave him a reverend and pleasing appearance. My hostess seemed about fifty. Her features were rather of a melancholy cast, a clean cap restrained her gray hair which time had much thinned, and from her waist hung a pincushion in pair of scissors. She placed refreshment before me, of which I partook most heartily, and answered my questions with civility and even politeness. After recompensing the aged couple for my entertainment, I at length departed with many thanks and renewed apologies for my intrusion. From a farmer in the neighborhood I inquired concerning this family, and he told me that they

1:09:25had once a son, a most promising young man, their chief, and indeed their only delight. He had been pressed on board a ship of war, and, as he had never been since heard of, it was conjectured that he had either fallen in some engagement or been lost in the waves. He showed me also a likeness of him which he had received from himself, a great friendship having existed between them. But, as I soon after went to a distant part of the kingdom, I speedily forgot the cottage and its inhabitants. I exchanged the calm repose of the country for the bustle of a seaport town, and the songs of birds for the creaking of cordage, and the melody of the boson's whistle. One day, turning hastily around the corner of a street I was struck by the figure of a man, who sought relief from his distress and the charity of his fellow creatures, but his one countenance and extended arm alone pleaded for him with mute eloquence. I thought I knew the features, but vainly endeavored to recollect where, and, given him a few half-pents passed on, this idea still haunted me, and I returned in the afternoon, resolving to inquire who he

1:10:30was, but he was not there. The next day, however, I was more successful, he thanked me for my assistance that day before. His name he told me was S. It struck me in a moment. It was the sun of my old cottagers. I took him home to my lodgings, and telling him what I knew, respecting his family, desired to hear from him the remainder of his history. It is a narrative of little but misfortunes, he answered, but if the relation will, in any way please you, sir, I owe it to your kindness not to refuse. The night when I was pressed I was as one stupified. The next day, however, I became composed. I prevailed on a friend who had obtained leave to see me, to carry a message to a young woman, whom I was attached to, and to desire her if possible to visit me before my departure. He did so, and to the last moment I cherished the hope of seeing her. But it was in vain, she did not come in our vessel, set sail. The neglect from one I had so tenderly loved was more

1:11:34cutting than all the rest. I believed her unfaithful. I deemed myself cast off by all-man kind, and left unfriended and alone to traverse over boundless seas. My dejection of spirits, together with the new life I led, destroyed my health, and I lay for weeks a prey to a raging fever, during which I was nursed, with the greatest care and attention, by a young man with whom I had contracted a friendship, unbored the ship in which I was. He seemed ill-suited to the life he had chosen, for he was extremely delicate. But he had something in his countenance which reminded me of Eleanor, and this perhaps attracted me to him. For I still loved her, notwithstanding her neglect, under his care I had linked recovered and was allowed to venture upon the deck to inhale the refreshing breeze. Here I gazed with a strange and awful feeling of astonishment on the immense plane of waters, from which I was separated only by a few boards, and listened with pleasure to the rustling of the waves by the side of the vessel as she cut through the deep. Out great, I thought,

1:12:40must be the ingenuity of that being who can pass in safety over this mighty expanse. But I was shortly to see that ingenuity exerted for purposes, and in a manner from which the soul revolts. One night when the crew had retired to their hammocks, I had been talking to my friend, I dropped a few words of anger against my neglectful Eleanor. He sighed deeply, and once I thought he was weeping, but I attributed it to his compassion. On a sudden we were alarmed by a loud call from the masthead, and a bustling confusion on the deck. I sprang up for I was then almost recovered from my illness, and went to inquire into the cause of the tumult. One of the sailors pointed out to me a dusky object which floated on the waves at a considerable distance, and told me that it was an Algerian vessel which was bearing down upon us. The uproar had by this time subsided, and everyone was called to his post. My sensations at this instant were almost indescribable.

1:13:40In a few moments I should be called upon to face death, and perhaps to deprive others of existence. This interval as it were between life and death was filled with an awful feeling. It was not fear, nor hope, but a confused mixture of both, which was augmented and sustained by the silence which prevailed. For the first shot dissipated all feelings but those of energy and activity. The hostile vessel now approached, hoved to, and summoned us to surrender. A broadside was the reply, and in a moment all was smoke, fire, and destruction. The enemy were much superior to us in strength, and at length they boarded us. We fought hand to hand. It would be invading to describe the horrors of the scene that can only be imagined by those who have witnessed them. Their captain happened to come near me. I aimed to blow at him with all my force which he parried, and my sword broke short in my hand. The barbarian

1:14:41lifted his sword to strike me, when my friend whom I had not seen during the action, sprang between us, and received the stroke which was aimed for me. I caught him as he fell. But that dying shriek, that last expiring glance, that soft pressure told me all, it was Eleanor. Noble, generous, self-devoted being, who, while I was upgrading her with neglect, had braved all the dangers of a sea life to follow me, to nurse me, to watch me, and last, worst, and bitterest, to die for me. I have little else to relate. We were taken, and afterwards retaken by an American, by whom we were well treated and carried to New York, where we had some clothes and other necessaries given us. Some of my companions remained there, but I wished to return to my native country. I worked for some time as a joiner, a trade to which I had once been a little accustomed in England, and at length gained sufficient to pay for my passage to England.

1:15:44I was landed here without money or friends. My fatigue had also worsened my health, which I had not perfectly recovered, so that I was unable to gain anything by labor. I had therefore subsisted on charity in soliciting which I was so fortunate, as to meet with you, sir, who have so kindly relieved me. Here his narrative concluded, and I will hasten, to the conclusion of mine, I conveyed him home, restored him to his parents, and was amply rewarded with their boundless gratitude. He is now in an eligible situation, which does not require any great bodily exertion. He is comfortable, and could he forget the unhappy fate of his Eleanor? He might be happy. End of section 3, the Englishers' story. Section 4 of December Tales by William H. Haynesworth The Slipper of Onks recording is in the public domain, read by Ben Tucker.

1:16:45Away, murderous dogs! The mutiny. Oh, God, had you but seen his pale pale blanched cheek, he would not eat. Oh, Christ. The barrel. In the summer of the year 18, blank, I was the only passenger on board the merchant man, Alcest, which was bound to the brisils. One fine moonlight night I stood on the deck and engaged on the quiet ocean, on which the moon beams danced. The wind was so still that it scarcely agitated the sails, which were spread out to invite it. I looked round, it was the same on every side, a world of waters, not a single object diversified the view, or intercepted the long and steady glance which I threw over the ocean. I have heard many complain of the sameness and unverring uniformity of the objects which oppose themselves to the eye of the Voyager. I feel differently. I can gaze for hours without weariness on the deep, occupied with the thought

1:17:46it produces. I can listen to the rush of the element as the vessel cleaves it, and these things have charms for me which others cannot perceive. I heard on a sudden a noise which seemed to proceed from the captain's cabin, and I thought I could distinguish the voices of several men speaking earnestly though in a suppressed tone. I cautiously drew near the spot from once the noise arose, but the alarm was given, and I could see no one. I retired to rest, or rather to lie down, for I felt it heavy and foreboding sense of evil overpower me, which comes we know not how or wherefore, and I could not sleep knowing that there had been disputes between the captain and his men respecting some point of discipline, and I feared to think what might be the consequences. I lay a long time disturbed with these unpleasant reflections, at last, worried with my thoughts, my eyes closed, and I dropped to sleep. But it was not to that refreshing sleep which recruits the exhausted spirits, and by a while, steeping the senses and forgetfulness renders them fitter for exertion on a

1:18:48wakening. My sleep was haunted with hideous and confused dreams, and murder and blood seemed to surround me. I was awakened by convulsive starts, and in vain sought again for quiet slumber. The same images filled my mind, diversified in a thousand horrid forms. Early in the morning I rose, and went above, and the mild sea breeze dispelled my uneasy sensations. During the whole of the day, nothing seemed to justify the fears that had tormented me, and everything went on in its regular course. The men pursued their occupations quietly, and in silence, and I thought the temporary fit of disaffection was passed over. A last, I remembered not that the passions of men, like deep waters, are most, to be suspected when they seem to glide along most smoothly. Night came on, and I retired to rest more composed, than on the preceding evening. I endeavored to convince myself that the noises I had heard were, but the fancies of a disturbed imagination, and I slept soundly. It'll time to security.

1:19:53About midnight I was awakened by a scuffling in the vessel. I hastened to the spot, the captain and one of his officers were fighting against the multitude of the ship's crew. In a moment after, I saw the officer fall, two fellows advanced to me, and clapping pistols to my breast, threatened instant death if I stirred or spoke. I gazed on the bloody spectacle. The bodies, which lay around, swimming and gore, testified that the mutineers could not have accomplished their aim with impunity. I was horror struck. A swimming sensation came over my eyes. My limbs failed me, and I fell senseless. When I recovered, I found myself lying on a bed. Everything was still. I listened and vain for a sound. I lay still a considerable time. At last I arose and walked about the ship, but could see no one. I searched every part of the vessel. I visited the place of the slaughter, which I had at first carefully avoided. I counted nine dead bodies, and the coagulated blood formed a loathsome mass around them. I shuddered to think I was desolate, the companion of death.

1:20:55Good God, said I, and they have left me here alone. The word sounded like a nail to me. It now occurred to me it was necessary the bodies should be thrown overboard. I took up one of them, dragged it to the side and plunged it into the waves, but the dash of the heavy body into the sea reminded me more forcibly of my loneliness. The sea was so calm I could scarcely hear it ripple by the vessel's side. One by one I committed the bodies to their watery grave. At last my horrible task was finished. My next work was to look for the ship's boats, but they were gone as I expected. I could not bear to remain in the ship. It seemed a vast tomb for me. I resolved to make some sort of raft and depart in it. This occupied two or three days. At length it was completed, and I succeeded in setting it afloat. I lowered into it all the provision I could find in the ship, which was, but little, the sailors, having as I imagined carried off the remainder. All was ready, and I prepared to depart. I trembled at the thought of the dangers I was about to

1:21:57encounter. I was going to commit myself to the ocean, separated from it only by a few boards, which a wave might scatter over the surface of the waters. I might never arrive at land, or meet with any vessel to rescue me from my danger, and I should be exposed without shelter and almost without food. I half resolved to remain in my present situation, but a moment's reflection dispelled the idea of such a measure. I descended. I stood on my frail raft. I cut the rope by which it was fastened to the ship. I was confused to think of my situation. I could hardly believe that I had dared to enter alone on the waste of waters. I endeavored to compose myself but in vain. As far as I could see, nothing presented itself to any view but the vessel I had left. The sea was perfectly still, for not the least wind was stirring. I endeavored with two pieces of board which supplied the place of ores to row myself along, but the very little progress I made alarmed me. If the calms should continue, I should perish of hunger. How I longed to see the

1:22:58little sail I had made agitated by the breeze. I watched it from morning to night. It was my only employment, but in vain. The weather continued the same. Two days passed over. I looked at my store of provisions. It would not, I found, last above three or four days longer at the farthest. They were quickly passing away. I almost gave myself up for lost. I had scarcely a hope of escaping. On the fourth day since my departure from the ship I thought I perceived something at a distance. I looked at it intently. It was a sail. Good heavens, what were my emotions at the sight? I fastened my handkerchief on a piece of wood and waved it in hopes that it would be observed in that I should be rescued from my fearful condition. The vessel pressed on its course. I shouted. I knew they could not hear me, but despair impelled me to try so useless and expedient. It passed on. It grew dim. I stretched my eyeballs to see it. It vanished. It was gone.

1:24:01I will not attempt to describe the torturing feelings which possessed me, at seeing the chance of relief which had offered itself destroyed. I was stupified with grief and disappointment. My stock of provisions was now entirely exhausted, and I looked forward with horror to an excruciating death. A little water which had remained quenched my burning thirst. I wished that the waves would rush over me. My hunger soon became dreadful, but I had no means of relieving it. I endeavored to sleep that I might for a while forget my torment, and my varied frame yielded for a while to slumber. When I awoke, I was not, however, refreshed. I was weak and felt a burning pain at my stomach. I became hourly more feeble. I lay down, but was unable to rise again. My limbs lost their strength. My lips and tongue were parched. A convulsive shuddering agitated me. My eyes seemed darkened and I gasped for breath.

1:25:02The burning at my stomach now departed. I experienced no pain, but a dull torpor came over me. My hands and feet became cold. I believed I was dying, and I rejoiced at the thought. Presently I lost all thought and feeling and lay without sense on a few boards which divided me from the ocean. In this situation as I was afterwards informed I was taken up by a small vessel and carried to a seaport town. I slowly recovered and find that I alone of all who were on board the vessel in which I had embarked had escaped death. The crew who had departed in the boats after murdering the captain had met their reward. The boats were shattered against a rock. End of section 4. The Mutiny Section 5 of December Tales by William H. Ainsworth The sliver of ox recording is in the public domain, read by Ben Tucker.

1:26:05Mar. Park the bells, John. John. Those are the church bells of St. Mary Otterie. Mar. I know it. John. St. Mary Otterie, my native village, in the sweet shire of Devon. Those are the bells. John Woodville. The churchyard. That spirit is never idle that doth waken the soul to sights and contemplations deep. Even from out the deserts seeming sleep, a sob is heaved that but the leaves are shaken. Cornwall. Among my stated rambles there is one which I retread with pleasure, unalloyed by repetition. It is a path which leads to a churchyard, and here I have lingered for hours unwerried, occupied by the reflections produced by surrounding objects. The spot of which I speak is situated on an eminence which commands a lovely prospect. I have been seated on my favorite seat, a large mossy stone, over which a spreading beach throws its shade when the close of day was

1:27:08approaching. There was the stone church with its somber ivy-grown walls and steeple, the thick, leafy grove with its music-breathing inhabitants. The green hill and the little murmuring rivulet that wandered at its bottom over its pebble-gimmed bed, dashing its light spray over its violet banks. The whitewashed cottage and barn with the horseshoe nailed over the door, the lingering relic of drooping faith and demonology. The spreading fields and clump of trees and thinly scattered habitations, and farther on the majestic windings of the river beyond which dim hills raise their eternal barrier to close off further view. And most of all, the deep, gentle shade of evening, sinking and reddening on hill and plain and valley, it is then that the soul emancipated from earthly thoughts and earthly hopes, holds closer sympathy with the scenes around, and holier visionings flit before the mind, and what spot could better harmonize with such thoughts than the one

1:28:09I have described. A church yard is of all places the one most calculated to call up those feelings, which abstracted from the pleasures are uncontaminated with the evils of the world. In the evening too, the charm is stronger. On every side lie relics of mortality, the fantastic or fearful shapes, which the gloom lends to indistinct objects, like a demon thing or shadow hovering. Give a mysterious awe to this ultimate tool of human schemes, and the doubtful certainty, if the expression may be used, of shortly becoming a companion of the moldering dust, and hideous corruption beneath us doubtful as to its period, but certain as it regards the event, is fraught with deep, though fearful and appalling interest. Am I wrong in saying that this is the place, the school, the theater for a poet? Is it not here that the casualties of rank and station are destroyed? And is it not the work of the poet also to overlook these accidental

1:29:12distinguishments, to develop the rise of simple and unadorned loveliness, and to see, and properly to estimate, the intrinsic excellence of things and actions? Death is your only shore balance in which to weigh the real worth or importance of individuals. The magic girdle that fits none but those whose deeds have been pure. The wild steed that none can manage, but those who encounter him undismade. The infallible touchstone of greatness or power. He is like the gust which blows away the thistle down of splendor and vanity, and exposes the nakedness which lies beneath. He is the best of friends who relieves us from our cares, our greatest enemy, who bereaves us of that we love best, our life. In short, he is the most paradoxical of things, who in every day present but never seen the most unwelcome of visitors, who whenever he comes is an unwished forgast. I am fond of a church, particularly an old one. It is as it were the

1:30:17home for the soul, the refuge from the world. And I am fond of its venerable antique gloom, its painted windows, its monuments which speak of the dead and their house, the grave. And of its music, there is an awful solemn beauty in church music which stills each unhallowed thought, each wish that speaks of earth, and throws its calm of holiness over the mind, the deep role of the organ. The thrilling enthusiasm, creating sound of human voices, trembling to the throne of eternity, which when I think of, I reflect with complacency upon the abodes of monkish superstition. Those deep solitudes and awful cells, where heavenly, pensive contemplation dwells and ever-musing melancholy rains, and could almost wish that I had been an inhabitant of them. Blessed with peace and undisturbed with vice and folly, Pasha, Pasha, I am dreaming, and these are the dreams of a poet doomed to wake an essay writer. But there is another ornament to a church, the greatest perhaps in my estimation,

1:31:21its bells, its organs of speech, with which it calls together fellow worshipers. I love these eloquent inanimations, these metallic tractors of the soul whose vibrations call up into view the past, which is fled, the present which dies in its existence, and the future, which will fade away like its predecessors. That simple stroke of two pieces of metal gives me an infinity of ideas, the burst into life and quick sinking into nothing, the reiteration of the strokes, one succeeding another, and measured intervals. All speak of the mutability of everything earthly, and the rapid succession of beings which bloom and perish and are forgotten. I cannot admire the Mahumattan custom of employing the human voice as a substitute for bells. Me thinks the invitation, which caused such exercises of devotion, should be addressed to the mind in some sound which may awaken suitable thoughts, not spoken in the everyday dialect of business and pleasure. An English people will continue in my thinking to be very preferable to a Turkish

1:32:27minaret. And what is it that lends this magic to so simple a music? What is it but that which lends beauty to everything, the fertile power of association? It is the connection which subsists between it and the inward workings of the soul, the relation which it bears to the operations of life and of death, which renders it thus pleasing. It is this principle of association which is the vivifying soul of matter, which gives interest and beauty to inanimate objects, which engages the soul through the medium of the senses, which is the spirit of poetry. It is not the mere sentiment conveyed by the words of the poet. It is the flood of sweet and gentle reminiscences which starts upon the reader, varied as it must of necessity be, indifferent individuals as their respective views, characters, situations, and mental organizations differ, from which is derived the highest pleasure of poetical compositions. I am not young. I am indeed approaching to the period when I shall cease to indict those

1:33:30dotings of age. But in these recurrences to the feelings of past days consists my fondest pleasure. These and a few other loved associations linger in my memory, and shall sink with me to my peaceful bed. It was a saying worthy of Pope that he should not care to have an old stump pulled down which he had known in his childhood. I am deeply imbued, I might say, saturated with such feelings. I have a piece of an oak which grew by the school where I was educated, and as long since fallen a prey to the axe of the spoiler, I remember as well as I do anything the cutting down of the venerable tree. How we crowded about it, and how each busy, disipulous was cutting off relics of their old friend. The branches which were left by the workmen as useless were gathered up and in the evening made into a bonfire. Then too we had a feast, and we sat round the glowing embers with every one his apple, his gingerbread, his nuts, and his glass of current wine. Then tales of school heroism and

1:34:36school mischief were recounted, and still the wit became brighter as the fire decayed. The mirth and fun grew fast and furious. Those were happy days. I often visit this scene of my infant years. The school is there, with the stone owl, with its gougle eyes, perched above it. There is the playground, the dark stone walls, with their soft and solemn brownness. But I will ride an essay on the school in my school days. There are many faces too, but they are strange to me. Those are of my time, alas, where are they? They're scattered over the world, those that survive at least. There was ouch, and sea, with his bright wit and clear judgment, and philips with his lively sallies of good-humored mirth, and dozens, whom I could mention. One of them I must mention, his are, the most singular and offensive mortal I ever met with.

1:35:37Are fell in love, a single thing of common occurrence and slight moment with most men. But it was otherwise with him, his constitution was delicate, and his feelings, sensitive beyond conception of any but his intimates. Does such a being to love as he loved was an exertion of energies, almost alarming. He succeeded, the object of his adoration loved him. The day was fixed for their marriage. Before it came, she died, and ours fond ties were broken. From that hour, all his time was spent in retricing the walks they had taken together. There was a roastery which she had planted, and are watched over it with incessant care. For he was the slave of sympathy. I found it near him one day. He said to me, you see that tree? I shall live as long as it, no longer. He would not be persuaded that it was a mere whim of the imagination. Two months after this, he died. I passed through the garden. The tree was withered.

1:36:39I'm perfectly sensible, not half my readers will believe this story. To those who do, who will look upon it as an instance of the strong power of the imagination over the mental and physical faculties. I relate this short notice of a gentle and innocent being. Poor are. It is a humble stone that covers his remains and Yonder Churchyard. His name is unknown, saved to a few, but by those that will be long honored, loved, and wept over. In Div. 5, the Churchyard. Section 6 of Disember Tales by William H. Ainsworth This liberal box recording is in the public domain, read by Ben Tucker. And therefore such was their post-haste to be gone, and so great their fear and running away that, though to others, they ran as hearts, yet to themselves they crept as snails,

1:37:41thinking every threshold a thicket, and every rash a ridge in their way. Warners, serenks. The Test of Affection. Gardener. There you have it. He's a fearful man. If I had as much learning as he, and I met the ghost, I tell him his own, but alac, what can one of us pour men do with the spirit that can neither read nor write? The drummer. I rose early in the morning, and after taking a good breakfast, set out from home. I was furnished with an Okan Kudzel, which I deemed my towards the latter end of my journey be useful. On the end of it was slung a small matter of provision, packed up in a hankerchief, and then hoisted over my left shoulder. A considerable quantity of rain had fallen in the night. It was, however, fair when I commenced my expedition, and I wished it, so to remain, for it was no pleasure to anticipate a wet day, and a journey of thirty miles on foot before me. The morning was still in beautiful. It was at the early hour of four. I could not yet

1:38:45distinguish the sun, though I was sensible he had left his ocean bed, from the beautiful streaks of coloring in the eastern sky. To express the softness, myopeness, and calmness of the scenery, at that hour I cannot find adequate words. Those only can conceive it, who have witnessed the same. I had not preceded more than two miles before a few drops alarmed me with apprehensions of a soaking shower from a heavy black cloud that was slowly sailing over my head. And my fears were soon realized by a very thick descent that followed, on which I betook myself with all speed to a thatched cottage that I sought some distance for shelter. Its humble inhabitants were not yet risen, and the only shelter I could obtain was that which the eaves of the dark brown thatch afforded. Partially screened, I there watched the progress of the shower, which alternately abated a little, then increased with redoubled fury, then slackened, until the dense cloud totally diminished. Its heavy dark color gradually changed to a livelier hue. The drops grew smaller and fell at wider intervals, and the sun burst forth in all the glorious

1:39:50refulgence of uncounted splinter. I then pursued my journey. It was now lighter in the feathered warblers were chanting melodiously among the dripping leaves and branches of the trees, and, flitting from spray to spray, seemed to rejoice at the approach of mourning. I now and then met a solitary rustic just issuing from his cot, and hastening to his labor, which interrupted my meditations no longer than while I returned his friendly salutation. For two hours I proceeded on this manner, when thinking at time for another breakfast, my former being pretty well digested, and my appetite being sharpened by the collar air. I turned into a pot house, hard by the way, side, keep it by Maggie Donaldson, noted for selling good old scotch drink, a tap of the right sort. A house where there had been many a good splore kicked up by the devotees of the above liquor. On entering, patty, who had cleaned up the house and who was now busy at the Kern left her task, lowered the tone with which she was singing a song burns to attend to me, though while she placed an old three-legged

1:40:54worm-eaten oak table by the side of the settle, on which I had placed myself, and furnished it with a foaming jug of nut brown, I caught the following. But where laid hand when you come to court me, and come near unless the back yet be a g. Sync up back steel and let nay about you see, and come as you wear nay coming to me. O whistle and I will come to you my lad, O whistle and I will come to you my lad. The farther and meather and a shud go mad, O whistle and I will come to you my lad. At Kirk her at market when area meet me, gang by me as though a yacard ne' afli, but still me a blink o' your bunny a blocky, you look at ye where nay I look and not me. Old Maggie who sat by the angle with a pipe in her mouth, now accosted me with, half arc came ye this morning, good man. When I had satisfied her in this particular she inquired where I was gone, and when I told her I was going to visit old Andrew Gillespie, my uncle,

1:41:54who was supposed to be near death, she broke out. What, old Andrew Gillespie, that dwells at flinty no, am hang them yours. Sure he's near ill, I should, a mist greet up beth of my ear and he foyer to lose him. There is nay affront to lay our fellow and the other crintra, then honest old Andrew Gillespie. I came to him length-sign and I his kitten kin, he never came to the tune, but he can't for a coke of mine nappy, where he was a conti old coru. She infront her og that would injure him in the word of their deed, and I hope the tale ye had heard is net-rue, and that ill find him hell and wheel, and does conti as ever. But if ye are gone to Andrew Gillespie the day, you'll find it a large steep tilt, on sephars I can see, you'll ever wet day it. I was much pleased with this illigium on my relative, and I could have stayed with the old hostess much longer, very willingly. For I love old scotch songs and scotch tales and old scotch drink, the one of which old Maggie was well noted for singing, the other for telling, and the other for selling.

1:42:58But it was absolutely necessary I should proceed, which I did, after exhausting the last drops of the precious exhilarating nappy, gathering up the relics of my repast and wishing my hostess a good morning. Refreshed with my rest, I now travelled on with great vigor until another shower drove me for shelter into a blacksmith's shed. After conversing a while with honest, burn-win about the wee-dorf-davy, or kane-elishi of mechelstenn-mur, who sat for his picture to the author of popular novels, and seeing those signs of better weather, I again sat forward. Nothing further occurred on my journey for some time, nor was the scenery such as detempt me to give a description of it. One reason, however, may be I was anxious to arrive at my journey's end, and the day was not such as would permit a minute examination of many a fine scene, my course of travel I am sensible displayed. It was lowering dark, the whole atmosphere was loaded with immense watery clouds. The wind was wild and boisterous, and with short intermissions,

1:44:00the rain descended in torrents, so that I was soon thoroughly drenched to the skin. I now stopped again for another refreshment, as I was arrived at the last inn before sending the mountains, through which I had yet a long journey, and not one of the best roads. After leaving the inn, I began to ascend a very steep path, which led several miles through a wild range of heathy hills and barren moors, and while on this part of my journey frequently these lines of burns forcibly impressed my recollection. Admiring nature in her wildest grace, these northern scenes with wary feet I trace, over many a winding dayle and painful steep, the boads of cubbyed grouse and timid sheep. The scenery before me was majestic and sublime, not from extent of prospect but the height of the black hills, the depth and gloominess of the valleys, the ruggedness, barrenness, and desert-like silence raining all round. The whole country was rent and tossed into mountains, sublime and barrenness, and that more

1:45:02particularly impressive under its present appearance, a thick mist or rain fog sat silently on the summit of every hill, and obscured with its murky mantle much of the heathy declivities. The weather in a short time cleared up and the sun broke out again in his meridian splinter, cheered with the aspect of the day I quickened my pace and soon gained the top of a hill, when I had a grand and extensive prospect of country before me many miles. Although in such haste to arrive at the end of my journey, I could not forebear stopping now and then to contemplate the charming scene, which was not, however, remarkable for fertility or luxuriant clothing, but chiefly for its bold outline and natural, though rather naked features. The cots of the peasantry were in general scattered at a good distance from each other, and defended in some degree from the rude mountain winds by a few trees, which towered high above the humble roof of faded thatch, and surrounded with the necessary appendages of a barn and buyer. I proceeded on and soon descended the steep hill. At the bottom was a small clock-in,

1:46:06or hamlet, containing a pot-house, where I devoured the remaining fragment of provision, and after washing it down with another pot, again set forward with renewed vigor. Crossing the narrow stone bridge at the extremity of the village, I entered a deep and most romantic glim on the edge of which, at the distance of four miles, was the humble mansion of my uncle Andrew. The veil wound about it in serpentine direction, and from the various aspects of every turning point, which, when at a distance displayed much was given for speculation as to the course it would take among the labyrinth of mountain vases, where other delts or glins opened from this. I, however, gained point after point until I saw with mingled sensations of pleasure and pain, the stepping stones over the brook, and the steep zigzag path by which I must leave the valley. Passing through the little hamlet at the top, mounting another hill, descending the other side of it, till I came to the level, then clambering down another immense abyss, gaining its opposite side, once it was but a few fields length of a gentle ascent up to my uncles. I should cut my journey shorter

1:47:10a few furlongs. When I arrived at the hamlet, I inquired of a shepherd, the nearest way to the flinty no. Yomon gai bak the gai yakam agan, said he, down the bray and over the bird, I'll keep the left on. The wind ye'er by the mechel, stain, gai thru the wee yet, it fell over the bairn till you get to the meal, and then you'll be at the bottom of the flinty no. Thank you, friend, replied I, but I am nay for ganging that gai, so long as I can find a shorter way. Yokin there is a nearer way, gif you odd tell, come now, just show me the road. Will answered he, may I gai thru the steel, I'll tour the ground, and by the thurden, and then you'll see it's a thak house, amaming the trees, the economy'sst. Thank you, said I, and away I went, and a quarter of an hour I found myself going up the field that led to the house, and a crowd of sensations rushed into my mind. Many years had elapsed since I had wandered about this very meadow and careless infancy,

1:48:14and the pretties secluded caught to which I was advancing had been my home. I looked around on the hills and dails, and could easily recognize them as my old acquaintance, ha, said I, it changed not your appearance, you grow not old in the course of time, the feebleness of age comeeth not upon you, you still smile in the brightness of summer, and frown in the lower in winter. For ages you have reared your towering crests and given food to the flocks and the herds that have checkered your dark surface, you have given a direction to the murmuring brook that proceeds from you, till it seeks far distant the mighty ocean. And while generation after generation hath passed away, you have preserved unverried the features you possessed in ages gone. Even now as in years past my eyes behold the still sunshine sleeping upon your gentle sloping declivities interrupted only when the light cloud of spring for a moment casts over them its passing shadow. My cogitations were suddenly interrupted by the gate at the end of the pasture which I opened. In another moment I was in the porch of the cottage, I lifted the latch

1:49:19and went in. The house appeared just the same as I had left it ten years before. The furniture was the same in each piece occupied the same position. The old clock stood ticking in the corner, as it had done for four-score years. The oak and setty remained behind the door, and my uncles antique two-armed chair by the fireside. But I saw no living creature in the house besides the cat on the heartstone. I listened a while but could hear nothing. At this I rather wondered as of your the house was seldom scarcely ever totally deserted. I then went forward into the spence or country parlor where I found several neighbors, cousins, and the servants, all standing and deep silence around the bed of my dying uncle. It was plain that death was rapidly approaching. It had been speechless several hours consequently. We could hold no conversation. He however put out his hand which I grasped with an affection redoubled by the prospect of soon losing him forever. And my younger days I had lived with him, and he, having no children of his own, was then remarkably

1:50:24fond of me. Subsequently that affection was strengthened between us, and although providence had cast my lot in another country, yet we had kept up a friendly and affectionate intercourse. Some time previous to this indisposition, I had again removed two within thirty miles of his residence, which was the place from whence I set out on this sorrowful visit. Michael was a man of sound judgment, keen observation, and cheerful social disposition, joined to a thorough knowledge of mankind. He possessed a good portion of eccentricity and humor. He loved a cheerful glass. He was kind to his servants and dependents, and though rather of a saving and frugal disposition yet he was charitable to his poor neighbors. In his friendships he was rather capricious, but firm in his attachment to the Kirk and the government of his country. He was apt to be a little passionate and hasty in his temper, but his resentment, however, was seldom of long duration. On the whole he was well beloved by those among whom he dwelt, and might be pronounced a good neighbor, and an excellent subject. By a long course of industry

1:51:29in his profession he had amassed a pretty good property, the knowledge of which had drawn around him a host of needy relations, chiefly however consisting of nephews who besieged him with flattery and professions, but whose attentions were chiefly drawn forth by their hopes of inheriting the old man's property. How he had willed that property was not known. He was a man of prudence, and seldom blabbed out his private affairs when there was no special need of such promulgation. On my arrival I consequently found all the friends around him remarkably attentive and deutious in their behavior, though it was very evident that a good deal of the affection was assumed for the occasion. Shortly after my arrival he fell into a kind of a dose, and we all retired, save an attendant or two. Peggy, the servant, who had lived with my uncle fourteen or fifteen years, now insisted on my taking some refreshment, and accordingly set meat before me. But I was too much agitated to feel anything like pleasure in my repast, and what I ate was more to please the faithful old domestic than from any inclination of my own. Accordingly, when my

1:52:31slight meal was over I got up and went to the window in a serious and reflective mood. The afternoon was far advanced, and the scenery without was wrapped in tranquility. The sunshine cloudless, bright and still, slept on the lawn and healthy hill, and gently stole from leaf and flower the moisture of the morning shower. At times, the soft and zephyr breeze moved the light branches of the trees, and while they shifted to and fro, waved as exact their shades below. Then taking over the lawn its course, the waving grass confessed its force, and every flowered on the mid-bent while it passed a trembling head. I was soon summoned from my station to the parlor, my uncle had somewhat revived, and his speech had returned. He told us death was making rapid advances, and that we might soon expect the moment of his dissolution. He informed us where we should find his will and gave us some excellent advice on our future conduct. Some things he requested us to perform, which I thought were

1:53:34a little odd. He wished us to read the will in the room where he was, immediately after he had expired. He desired that he might not be laid out, as it is commonly called, until at least twelve hours after his departure, and that his large, too armed, open chair might be placed in all order and salimnity at the head of the table every mill, and that it should remain unoccupied till after his funeral. He also wished to be interred in a very deep grave. All these requests we promised faithfully to observe, when after taking an affection that farewell of each he quietly resigned himself to his pillow, his breathing became more and more faint, till at last we could perceive it no more. During the foregoing transactions, my mind was in a state I cannot well describe. My thoughts were all confusion, while at the same time I struggled to be calm and composed. Pointed as where my feelings I gazed on my dying relative with a sort of apathy of grief, and at the moment when nature was yielding up the contest, I could not shed a tear.

1:54:35In a short time I'll quitted the apartment and I was left alone. The branches of the huge elm trees, with their thickening foliage partially screening the window, made the scene under such circumstances, awfully gloomy and tranquil. I took several turns about the room, and with a soft step I approached the bed, gazed a moment, turned away, and then going up to the window, strove to divert my thoughts, by looking at the surrounding landscape. Twilight was descending in the sober hues of evening gradually enveloped the lofty hills. No sound struck my ear except the faint and low murmurs of the brook, which brawled down the valley at the bottom of the flinty no, the shout softened by distance of the peasant, committing his steeds to the pasture. And now and then the solitary barking of a shepherd's dog, among echoing dails, attendant on his master folding the charge for the night. I had not stood at the casement many minutes when my cousins, all talking in a rude noisy and indecorous manner, came into the room

1:55:40with the will, which it seems they had departed in search of the moment the testator had expired. I was a good deal shocked at the frivolity they manifested and could not help reproving them, though in a mild and gentle manner, for the little respect they paid to the memory of the deceased. Why, you kin, said one. He told us to read the will, I may it stay soon as he died. Why, quite another, and say, in conformity with his command, we went straight up to stairs, and rummaged or his old kiss to we found it. Mangian concerns good man, and will mind ours, rejoined a third rather gruffly, so that my well-ment admonitions had no better effect than to cause me to be more disliked by the party. For I could perceive before this that they looked upon me in the light of an unwelcome intruder. The will was now read, to which I'll pay the greatest attention. A muting anxiety in deep interest sat upon every countenance. Their aspects were, however, instantly changed into those of intense disappointment and vexation,

1:56:41on hearing that my uncle had made a stranger, whom none of us knew, the air of all his property, real, and personal. For my own part, this circumstance did not affect me in the least. I had not had any expectation of inheriting the smallest portion, therefore could not feel disappointed on the occasion. But with the others, it was different. They had clung to him like so many leeches, or like the ivy, to an old ruin. And with about as much affection as the two before mentioned things have, for the objects to which they so closely adhere. A most appalling and disgusting scene now took place among the disappointed legacy hunters. They abused the old man, and the most shocking terms, they taxed him with injustice and villainy, and even proceeded to call down imprecations upon his lifeless corpse. I shuddered at the conduct of the unprincipled villains. I trembled at the impiety of men who could, at a time, the most solemn and impressive to a human being, act in a manner sufficient to call down upon them immediate and divine vengeance. I was chilled with horror. I almost expected to see the lifeless corpse of my uncle start from

1:57:44the bed on which it lay to take vengeance on the audacious wretches. Once indeed, I actually thought I saw his lips quiver with rage. His eyebrows knit together in all the muscles of his countenance contract into a dreadful frown. I shuddered at the sight and withdrew my gaze. At length they went into the kitchen and left me once more alone in the chamber of death. I went to the bedside, and the scene I had just witnessed operated so upon my feelings that I burst into tears, and uttered aloud my lamentations over my lifeless relative. When this evolution had somewhat subsided I began to reflect a little where I was, and a sort of timidity came creeping over me. There was an undefinable apprehension which we feel while we are in company with the dead. We imagine in spite of the efforts of reason that the departed spirit is hovering near its former tenement. At least it is the case with myself. It now being quite dark and having these feelings in a strong degree it is no wonder that I rather preferred the company of the wretches in the kitchen than remaining alone where I was. I proceeded to the other where I found them all

1:58:49corousing around a large table on which was placed the fragments of the dinner and plenty of liquor. I reminded them of our promise to place my uncles old two armed chair at the head of the table as he had requested, which they had neglected to do and which they now strenuously opposed me in doing. I was however resolutely determined to have it done and it linked succeeded. I then retired to the fireside where I sat without taking any part in the conversation or in anything that passed during the whole evening. I shall pass over the several succeeding hours the whole of which they sat drinking till they were all in a more less degree intoxicated and generally brawling, wrangling and swearing in a loud and boisterous manner. The night became stormy as it advanced. The wind rose and it intervals moaned, side and whistled shrilly without, roared in the wide chimney and as it furiously bent the trees in which the house was embusomed made a sound similar to the dashing waves on the shore of the ocean. The rain fell in torrents and the large drops patterned against the window

1:59:52with a ceaseless and melancholy cadence. It was now getting nigh the witch-in time of night, and I saw no signs of the revelers quitting the table. On the contrary they grew more loud and boisterous. An obedience to their imperious commands yet evidently with the greatest reluctance Peggy kept replenishing the exhausted vessels with more liquor and their demands increased in proportion to the reluctance with which they were satisfied. At length however, on receiving an intimation from me that I would interpose, she absolutely refused to draw any more liquor for them, telling them they had had plenty and that it was time to retire to bed. The scene that now ensued was such as it is impossible for me to describe. Manned and inflamed with rage at being thus refused, the wretches began to throw the furniture up and down the house, break the glasses and jugs, and to abuse the servant from whom they attempted to rest the key of the cellar, yelling out at the same time the most horrid oaths and implications. The table was shortly over set and the lights put out in the scuffle. In a few moments we should,

2:00:56in all probability, have had bloodshed, as I felt myself roused to a pitch of fury, and was advancing with the large heavy-handed fire-poker to the assistance of the servant, who was loudly shrieking for help. Just then the old clock struck twelve rapid strokes and the bell had not ceased to vibrate when we heard three heavy knocks, as if given by a mallet upon the wall which separated the kitchen from the parlor, where my uncle lay. There appeared to be something supernatural in this. The whole house seemed to shake its very foundation. A deep silence ensued. I stood still, the wretches instantly became sober. We all gazed earnestly and wildly at the place from whence the noise proceeded. Scarcely had we recovered from the shock when we were again thunder-struck with a noise in the parlor. It was unlike any sound I had ever heard before. It seemed as if all the furniture of the room was violently crashed together, mingled with the noise of fire-arms, shrieks, and exclamations burst from all.

2:01:56The window shook, and every door in the habitation gave a momentary jar. I trembled with awe. I felt every hair of my head bristling upwards. My knees smote against each other. A deadly paleness sat upon each countenance, and all eyes were fixed in an intense gaze on the door at the upper part of the kitchen which led to the staircase buttery and parlor. When to complete the horror of the scene the door burst wide open, dashed against the wall, and in gliding its slow pace came a dreadful apparition. Its countenance was that of death. It seemed to have been long the inhabitant of that dark and narrow house, the grave. The worms had reveled upon its eyes and left nothing but the orblest sockets. The rest of the skeleton was enveloped in a long and white sheet. This horrid specter advanced into the middle of the room. I involuntarily shrunk back. The heavy weapon dropped from my hand and rang loudly upon the stone floor, and overcome with terror I sunk into a chair. A cold sweat burst from my

2:02:58forehead, and I had well-nigh fainted. On its first appearance the others had tumbled one over the other, and the greatest horror and confusion, and now lay as if dead in all directions. The specter gazed wildly around for a moment at the clock, at the fire, and then turned its eyeless sockets upon each individual, motioning at the same time with its long arm and pointing to the outer door, seemingly directing to an outlet for escape and wishing for their exit. They were not long in obeying this intimation, but several crawled away upon their hands and knees, with all the speed they could possibly make, none of them daring to stand upright. The specter, all the while, was standing in the middle of the floor, eyeing, or rather appearing to eye them through the void socket where eyes at once glistened, as they were treated one by one in the greatest fear and trepidation. When Peggy and I offered to decamp along with the rest, the specter motioned us to remain where we were, and we durced not for our lives disobey. When the last of the crew was making his exit, and it crawled nearly to the door,

2:04:02the specter, who at hitherto stood motionless, except waving its arms, and slowly turning its eyeless countenance upon the wretches, as the crept successively out of the door, bounded with the rapidity of lightning after the terrified wretch. But Swift as the flights of spirits are, in this case, that of the mortal was Swiftr. The fellow gave a thrilling scream, made a convulsive spring, his heels struck violently against the lintel of the door in his course, and he vanished from my sight in the specter after him. "'Good diffendus,' said Peggy. For my part, much as I was frightened, I could scarcely forebear laughing out right, at the last incident, so comic and farcical. Half a minute had not elapsed when I heard a step, and in another instant, I still kept my eyes upon the door, in came the very form of my uncle, muttering, villains, rascals, hypocrites. He fastened the door after him and shut out his nephews, and the specter then came towards the fire. At this I was more amazed than ever. He, however, gave me to understand that he was alive,

2:05:05and well, and all that I had seen transacted in the afternoon and evening was nothing but a stratagem he had made use of to try this inserity of his relations, and if he found them as he conjectured faults in their professions, to get rid of them. The scheme answered nobly, and it must be confessed the stratagem was well planned and exceedingly well executed. I could not at first believe what I saw, nor can see but that all was the illusion of a dream. In a little time, however, I recovered my recollection, and on a further development of the plot, I could enter into all its parts and reconcile almost everything to my entire satisfaction. My uncle concluded his relation with assuring me that, accepting a good legacy for his faithful servant Peggy, I should inherit all that he possessed, as some little acknowledgement for the fright he had caused me. And, as for the wretches he had expelled from his house in so singular a manner, they should never more cross the threshold of his door. We all three now sat down to a little supper of which my uncle stood in great need, and after taking a cheerful glass, retired to bed.

2:06:11Notwithstanding the fatigue of my journey and sitting up so late, my sleep was far from being sound and refreshing. I was disturbed with fearful dreams the whole night. Sometimes I was among groups of ruffians fighting and mangling each other. Then I was haunted with horrid specters, such as I had seen the night before, which grasped at me, and I but just escaped their clutches. Headless men and monsters of various horrid forms flitted an endless variety before my fancy, and I frequently started awake and dreadful agonies. At length the cocks began to crow, the clouds of the eastern sky to break a sunder, and the morning to dawn. When it was tolerably light, eyes started up, resolved upon a stroll over the meadows. Before going, I, however, went into the parlor, where I found everything in the utmost confusion. Chairs, tables, walking sticks, and logs of wood lay all over the floor, and everything upset or in a wrong position. I then proceeded to the outer door, which I opened, but started back

2:07:13in horror on perceiving a human skull lying on a sheet at my right hand. Recovering from my fright, I went and gathered it up. I could not restrain my laughter when I discovered it to be nothing more than a mask representing a death-set. It seems while we were all wrangling the night before, my uncle had stepped out of bed, dressed himself, piled all the furniture logs of wood, and timber he could, in the apartment in a heap, crowning the pyramid with a dozen or more walking sticks, which had lain time out of mind on the top of an old cupboard. Then he had gone upstairs, and put on the horrid mask, brought down a pistol, and enveloped himself from his feet to his chin, and a clean white sheet. After alarmingus, just as the clock struck the awful hour of twelve by striking three heavy blows against the wall, with a huge log of wood, he contrived to tumble down the whole massive furniture at once, firing his pistol at the same moment, and then bursting in upon us in the manner before described. And I really think that, at all horny himself been there, he would have yelled with dismay. I attributed the flapping of the doors upstairs, and the jarring of those below to nothing but a boisterous gust of wind that happened to blow just at the critical

2:08:17moment, and in the ripper cussion of the air when the pistol was fired, I accounted for the shaking of the windows. The whimsical orders and requests of my uncle were absolutely necessary to the design. By having his will read in the room where he was, he heard our undisguised sentiments, and his next request saved him from the alternative of either being laid with a slight covering near some chilling window, or of developing the plot before proper time. The other requests were, I suppose, made for the sake of consistency, and to make it impossible that we could suspect anything. I now went out. As I was crossing the yard, I discovered several drops of blood upon a stone, which I could no way account for, but by supposing some of my good cousins had received in their hasty retreat to severe fall, and a little further I discovered a pair of shoes, a receptacle for the filth of the buyer in another part of the yard, or evident marks of someone having had therein a severe struggle. Indeed, the adventures of the flying heroes had been various and woeful. One of them, he at whom the specter made such a bound, as I

2:09:19afterwards ascertained, actually ran seven miles without stopping, and with his shrieks, supposing the grim monster at his heels, almost raised the whole country. I now proceed it onwards over the fields, listening to the warbling lark, springing blithely up to greet the purpling east. The air was fresh and pure, and in the beauties of nature, I, a while, forgot the events of the preceding evening. With hasty steps, I roved over the faintly recollected scenes, where I had in childhood spent some of my happiest hours, until, wherewith my rambles, I returned to breakfast. I wish I could have given the above tales it was related to me by my friend, Lard Isaac McFarigan. I might then have presented my reader with a treat. The one before him is the mere shade, the bare outline of the drool yet fearful story he made of it, the besieming gravity with which he went through the first part, and the cast of his eye towards the conclusion were perfectly inexpressible and nibbidable.

2:10:20End of section 6. The Test of Affection Section 7 of December Tales by William H. Ainsworth This libravox recordings in the public domain. Red by Ben Tucker. I was spurned and hated, but no more. I am immortal now. Hundreds of untold years, but now I sleeping in the Gulf of time shall rise and roll before me air I die. Verder. The wanderings of an immortal. For me the laws of nature are suspended, the eternal wheels of the universe roll backwards. I am destined to be triumphant over fate and time. I shall take my distant posterity by the hand, I shall close the tomb over them. Saint Leon. It was not a vain desire of life or a fear of death that made me long for immortality.

2:11:23Nor was it the cupidity of wealth or the love of spunder or pleasure that made me spend years of anxious study to penetrate into the hidden recesses of nature and drag forth those secrets which she had involved in an almost impenetrable obscurity. But it was the desire of revenge, of deep-seated and implacable revenge that urged me on. Till my incredible exertion and minute investigation I discovered that which it has by turns been the object of philosophy to obtain. And the aim of incredulity to ridicule the philosopher's stone. And yet I was naturally of a mild and compassionate disposition. I had a heart open to the tenderness to invest emotions of our nature. Injury heaped on injury, received too, from one whose highest aim ought to have been to manifest the gratitude which he owed to me, who in the hour of danger and adversity, should have been the radius to offer assistance, has rendered me what I am. It is useless to add to the instances of

2:12:29human depravity. I will not relate the miseries which I endured. I will not look back upon the prospects which have been blasted by the perfidy of him whom I thought a friend suffice it that they have been such as the soul shutters to contemplate, such as planted in my soul a thirst of vengeance, which I brewed over till it became a part of my very existence. I soon found that by human means I had little chance of revenge. My enemy was powerful and cautious, and all my plans were anticipated and baffled. I determined to have recourse to darker agents. I had been accustomed to intense and mysterious study, and I knew that there are beings who exercise and influence over human affairs, and are likewise themselves in subjection to the wise and omnipotent being, who was the mover of the first springs of the mighty machine of the universe. I knew too that it was possible to exert a power over these beings, and henceforth I applied the whole force of my mind to the acquisition of the knowledge which would make me the possessor of

2:13:31this power. Ten long years I employed for this purpose, and my efforts were crowned with success, but though I could summon these spirits before me and compel them to give an answer to my inquiries, that was all. I could not, I was sensible, subject them entirely to my will without making on my parts certain concessions, and to ascertain what these were was the object of my first trial. I fixed on a night for this my first essay, and it soon arrived. I repaired to the spot which I had selected. Its secrecy was well calculated for my purpose, it was a dark and lonely glen, but it was rich and romantic beauty. Rocks, whose brinks were covered with underwood and wild herbage, frowned on each side, a few stunted oaks throughout their roots clinging to the precipice, and an immense elm on one side spread its wide arms around. The bottom of the area was covered with dark, luxuriant grass, interspersed with wild and fragrant flowers. At one end a narrow,

2:14:32but deep river tumbled its waters over the precipice, and rushed down, sometimes almost concealed by jutting fragments of rocks covered with moss and plants, which clung to it as if for protection from the force of the cataract. Then again, spreading out and dashing its roaring waters long, till it finally vanished underground in a cloud of mist and foam. The moon was shining brightly, and I ascended an eminence which commanded an extensive prospect. On one side, wide and fertile plains extended themselves, spotted at a distance with struggling cottages and small hemlets bounded with forests, whose dark and heavy masses contrasted finally with the light of the adjacent landscape. On the right the river rolled its waves and calm windings, between banks of lively green adorned with groves and clusters of trees, till it terminated in the waterfall, which dashed far beneath me with a softened murmur. It was a delightful scene. The sky was beautifully clear. Flesy clouds skimmed over it, lighted up with a silvery luster that they caught from the moonbeams,

2:15:36which bursting from behind them as they passed fell on the waters of the stream and the cataract and trembled on them in liquid beauty. Waves, rocks, woods, plains, all glittered in the lovely rays and all spoke of peace and harmony. As I gazed on the beauties which nature had here scattered with so profusa-hand, I heard the tinkling of a sheep bell. What associations did this slight sound conjure up to me? All the loved and well-remembered scenes of childhood crowded on my mind? I thought of times and of persons that were fled, of those who were joined to meet by kindred, who were united by friendship or attached by a tender passion. Again, those short but blissful moments were present. Perhaps more blissful, because so short. When I'd strayed at this same witching hour with one whose remembrance will survive the eternity which I am doomed to undergo. When we had gazed with all the rapture of admiration on the works which attest the power and

2:16:37mightiness of Providence, had listened to the note of the evening's songster, and the size of the wind among the leaves, and with hearts unstained by one evil thought or passion, and feelings unmixed with ought unworthy, at breath forth our pure and fervent vows to that being whose altar is the sincere bosom, and whose purist most grateful offering is a tear. The night advanced. It was time for me to begin my terrible solimnities. I trembled at the thought of what I was about to do. I hesitated whether to proceed, but the hope of revenge still impelled me on, and I resolved to prosecute my design. It was soon done. The rites were begun, the flame of my lamp blazed clear and bright. I knew the moment was approaching when I should hold communion with beings of another world, perhaps with the prince of darkness himself. I grew faint, a heavy load weighed on my breast, my respiration grew thick and short, my eyes seemed to swell in their sockets and a cold sweat burst

2:17:40from every pore of my body. The flame wavered, it decreased, it went out. The heavens were darkened. I gazed around, but the gloom was too great for me to see anything. I looked towards the waterfall and amid the mist and obscurity which covered the place of its subterraneous outlet, a star shown with wild and brilliant luster, it grew larger, it approached me, it stopped, and a brighter radiance was diffused around. The evil one stood before me. I gazed with wonder and astonishment on the being that stood before me in terrible beauty. His figure was tall and commanding, and his athletic and sinewy limbs were formed in the most exquisite proportions. His countenance was pale and majestic, but marked with the mingled passions of pride, malice and regret, which we conceive form the character of the rebel angel. And as dark and terrible eyes gave a wilder expression to his features as they beamed and troubled

2:18:42and pretter natural brightness from beneath his awful forehead, shaded with the masses of his raven hair that curled around his temples and waved down his neck and shoulders. And amongst the jetty locks, a star, as a diadem blazed clear and steadily. Never had I seen ought approaching to his grand and unearthly loveliness. I saw him debased by the grossness of sin and suffering the punishment of his apostasy, that he was beautiful beyond the sons of men. I saw him thus, and I thought what the spirit must have been before he fell. Our conversation was brief. I wished not to prolong it for I was sick at heart and his voice thrilled through my whole frame. I rejected his offers, strong as was my thirst for vengeance. A small glimmering of cool reason which I still retained prevented me from sacrificing all my hopes of hereafter to the gratification of any passion, however ardent, the demon perceived that I should escape his toils and all the wild and ungoverned force of his

2:19:44fiendish nature burst forth, and to overcome with fear and horror I fell senseless on the ground. When I awoke, all was still. It was quite light. I felt the light breezes sweep over me and I heard again the roar of the counteract. I rose and looked round, but there was nothing to indicate the late presence of the demon with whom I had held unhallowed communion. I departed from the glen, the sun was just rising in his rays, shining on the summits of the lofty and distant hills. The air was sweet and refreshing, and the sky, rich in the glories of the opening morning, was painted with beautiful tents which blend insensibly with each other and present so lovely a feast to the eye of one who loves to study the beauties which nature offers on every hand, and in almost every prospect. The birds were singing in the trees, the flowers, which adroped and hung their faded leaves the evening before, again raised up their heads, enameled with dew. Everything was gentle, beautiful and peaceful. The charm communicated itself naturally to my

2:20:48disturbed and agitated mind, and for a short time I was calm and serene. The head-strong current of my passions was checked, and the thought of revenge was forgotten. But I returned into the world, I found myself an object by turns of scorn and pity and of hatred. Again I cursed him who had rot this wreck of my hopes, and again was vengeance my only object. I resolved to have no further communication with the beings of whom I had spoken. I determined to thence forth to depend on my own exertions. I again applied myself to study and began to inquire after that secret which could bestow immortal life and wealth. I sought the assistance of none, but depended entirely on myself. I labored long and was long unsuccessful. I ransacked the most hidden cabinet of nature, in the bowels of the earth and the corruption of the grave, in darkness and in solitude, I worked with unceasing toil. My body was emaciated and I was worn almost to a skeleton.

2:21:51But the vehement of my passions supported me. At last I discovered the object of my search. It will prove how strongly my mind was riveted on one soul object, when I say that when I beheld myself possessed of boundless riches and through their agency of almost boundless power, when the pleasures and temptations of the world lay all within my grasp, I cast not a thought on them, or on anything, save the one great object, on the furthest of which I had bestowed such unremitting toil of body and mind. At this point I learnt that the object of my hatred was going abroad, and I lost no time in preparing secretly to follow him. He shortly departed, and having disguised myself I also commenced the journey. I was always on the watch for an opportunity when I could surprise my enemy alone. But I was still unsuccessful. We at last arrived at a seaport town, and it was determined to proceed by water, and I entered as a passenger into

2:22:54the same vessel. I had never before been at sea, and the scene was new and astonishing to me, but I could not enjoy it. I saw everything through a cloud. The ardent passion of revenge which burnt within my breast consumed and obliterated every gentle or pleasant feeling. At another time, I should have enjoyed my situation. I should have beheld the seemingly boundless expansive water around me, and I felt my soul expand at the view. But now I was altered, and my views of surrounding objects altered with me. I had much trouble to keep concealed, for on board of a ship the risks of discovery were greater, because my absence from the deck, where the other passengers were accustomed to catch the fresh sea breeze, though for some time unnoticed, might it length cause me to be regarded as a misanthrope, who detested the society of his fellow creatures, which I wished to avoid equally with any further surmise which might make me an object of attention. I was standing one evening watching the gradual decline of the sun as

2:23:56he sunk into the heart of the ocean, which reflected his rays and the lustre of the clouds around him. A sudden motion of the ship caused me to move from the spot on which I was gazing, when I observed someone looking steadily at me. My eye met his, our souls met in the glance. It was he who might followed with such relentless hatred. I sprung towards him, I uttered some incoherent words of rage. He smiled at me in scorn. Mad man, he exclaimed. Dost thou tempt my rage? Be cautious, air it is too late. You are in my power. One word of mine can make you a prisoner. Thank you that I am ignorant of your proceedings against my life. No, every plot, every machination is as well known to me as to yourself. You confess it, your eye says it. Seek not to deny it. For this time you are safe. He stayed no longer but retiring to his cabin left me to astonished with what I had heard to attempt to

2:24:56detain him. Could it be that he had spoken true? Was he indeed so well acquainted with my actions? But if so, why had he not disclosed what he knew when the civil power could at once have forfeited my life and deprived him of an enraged foe? Was it that he hesitated to add to his guilt by the death of one whom he had driven to desperation by his treachery? Or did some spark of awakening conscience operate on his mind? I was confused with my thoughts for I knew not what to think. I passed to the time in gloomy and painful meditation, and was glad when evening came, that I might retire to my place of repose. I was awakened by the sound of men trampling over my head, the stretching and creaking of cordage, the dashing of waves, and the violent, and repeated motions of the vessel. The wind which had been remarkably still the preceding day was blowing with the utmost violence, and roared amongst the sails and rigging of the ship as if it would split them to shivers. It would be useless to attempt to describe what has so often been

2:26:00described far better than I am able to do. I was filled with the most dark and melancholy ideas. I paced the cabin in a state of feverish anxiety, but yet I knew not why I felt so. It was not the storm. For my existence was beyond the power of the ocean to destroy. The tempest raged with unabating fury during the whole night, at length a plank of ships started, and she rapidly filled with water. The boats were got out, and the crew and passengers hastily endeavored to get into them. The boats were not large enough to contain the whole number, and a dreadful struggle took place. But it was soon determined by those on the boats cutting the ropes, fearful of perishing, if more were added to their numbers. Just as the boats were cut from the vessel, I saw my hated foes spring out of the ship. He was too late, and was wellened in the ocean. I thought my hopes of vengeance would be entirely frustrated. I sprung after him, I fell so near him that I caught hold of him. He grasped me by the throat, and we struggled a moment. But a wave dashed us against the ship's side, and we were parted by the violence of the shock.

2:27:03Daylight was breaking, and occasionally, when lifted up by a wave I could discern bodies floating amidst casks, planks, and pieces of broken masts. In a little more than a minute after we had left the ship I saw her sink. Her descendant made a wide chasm in the waves, and the rush of the parted waters was dreadful, as they closed over. And dashing up their white foam as they met seemed to exalt over their victim. I was dashed about in the water until I was exhausted. I could no longer take my breath, and began to sink. I struggled hard to keep up at the tempest subsided, and I was no longer born up by the force of the waves. I descended. They were the most horrible moments of my life. A gasp for breath but my mouth and throat were instantly filled with water, and the passage totally obstructed. The air confined in my lungs endeavored in vain to force an outlet. I felt a tightness of the inside of my ears. The external pressure of the water on all sides of my body was very painful in my eyes, felt as if a cord were tied tightly around my brows.

2:28:08At last, by a dreadful convulsion of my whole body, the air was expelled through my windpipe and forced its way through the water with a gurgling sound. Again the same sensations recurred, and again the same convulsion. Then I cursed the hour when I had obtained the fatal possession which hindered me from perishing. Ardently did I long for death to free me from the sufferings which I endured. In a short time I was exhausted, the convulsions became more frequent but less powerful, and I gradually lost all sense and feeling. How long I continued in this state buried in the sea, I know not. But when I recovered my recollection I found myself lying on a rock that jutted out into the ocean. I got up but could scarcely stand so great was my weakness. I soon however regained my faculties, and my first object was to ascertain where I was. I examined the spot. It was desolate and barren, but it seemed to be of considerable extent. I wondered about till hunger reminded me that I must look for food. A few shellfish,

2:29:09which I picked up on the shore, satisfied for a time the cravings of my hunger. I then sought for a lodging which might in some degree shelter me from the fury of the elements. There seemed not to be a tree on the whole surface of the place nor were the slightest traces of human habitation invisible. At length I discovered a cave into which I entered, and in which I passed the remainder of the day in the following night. I slept long and soundly, and was greeted on a waking by the horse and solid murmurs of the waters breaking against the rock. I advanced to the shore and strained my eyes over the sea, but nothing was discernible, saved the uniform sheet of water, and the black clouds which seemed its only boundary. The day was gloomy, and horse seabirds flew round, screaming and flapping their wings. The hours passed slowly on, and this day passed like the preceding one, except that I discovered a spring of water which in my present situation was a treasure.

2:30:09At night I retired to my cave, where a little seaweed spread upon sand was my only couch. The next day I determined thoroughly to examine the place on which my unhappy fortune had cast me, and I accordingly set forth, dropping seaweed and pebbles at short intervals to enable me to find my way back to the cave. I wandered as near as I could guess about two hours without perceiving any difference in the scenes around me. I was about to return when a sound struck my ear. I listened, I turned my head, and beheld at no great distance a human figure. I rushed towards it. It was my enemy. He saw me approach and seemed astonished, but he did not move nor attempt to avoid me. At last, I said, I have met the unequal terms. Now thou canst not escape me. What seek you replied he, but I need not ask. It is my life you wish to deprive me of, take it,

2:31:10and so doing you will rob me of that which I wish not to preserve, a burden that I would gladly lose. You hesitate. Why do you delay now? Vengeance is in your power. Do yourself justice. Think of the wrongs that you have suffered from me, the miseries you have endured, and then you can remain long and active? I knew not what it was, but something restrained me from any deed of violence against him, whom I had followed so long in hopes of vengeance, who might hate it with unnatural hatred. While I looked at him, he suddenly grew paler. He staggered and fell down. I found he had fainted. I chafed his temples. I ran for some water, with which I sprinkled his face, and after some time he opened his eyes, but closed them again with a faint shudder. In a few minutes he recovered what was unable to walk, the hardships he had undergone, having weakened his frame, unsupported by the charm which gave strength and endurance to mine. I supported him towards the cave, but the slowness with

2:32:12which we proceeded was such that it was near evening before we arrived at it. When we came to it, I placed him on my rude couch and departed in search of food for him and myself. I had much difficulty in doing this for even the wretched fare on which, since being cast on the island I had subsisted, was scanty. When I returned he was asleep and I sat down to watch by him. I have not an idea what it was that induced me at the time to concern myself about the well-fair of one whom I had such reason to detest as this man. It is one of those contradictions which so strongly marked all my actions, in which we'll ever characterize the proceedings of one of acute feelings and ungoverned passions. For several days I continued to watch over him with the attention of a brother, but he was sinking rapidly, and I saw that a very short period would put an end to his existence. During the whole time he had never spoken, but on the day of his death he broke his silence. He asked why I had attended to his wants, and why I had not rather hastened to wreak my vengeance on him.

2:33:16I would not suffer him to talk long for he was too feeble to bear the least exertion without injury, but the expression of his countenance spoke for him. His eyes rolled with a wild and frenzied gaze, his features were by fits twisted and convulsed with agony and smothered and lengthened groans burst from him. The evening drew on, and the scene was still more dreadful, by the uncertain and fading light that prevailed. Suddenly he started. He gazed at me and asked in a voice which pierced me to the soul if I could forgive him. I did forgive him. God is my witness, house sincerely, at that moment I forgave every injury, every offense which he had committed against me. He spoke not again. Two hours afterwards he caught my hand, he pressed it furvently, and his dying look was such as I could never forget. Although I shall live till the last convulsion of the universe shall bury me in the ashes of the world, that look can never be a face from my memory. It was night. I could not

2:34:18remove the body till morning, and the deep silence rendered my situation doubly horrible. The next morning I buried the remains of him, who, while living, had been my direst foe. But every thought of that nature had now departed. My injuries and my thoughts of revenge were like forgotten. I shortly after left the island, I was taken up by a ship passing near to it, and conveyed again to inhabited countries. Such was the termination of my labors, my sufferings, my hopes, and my fears. When I reflect on the time which was consumed in this fruitless pursuit of revenge, it seems like one of those frightful dreams from which we start and terror. But even when awake feel horror at the thought. The inconsistencies of which I was guilty more forcibly urged this idea, while I spent years of loathsome and anxious labors and seeking for that gift which, when obtained in a curse to the possessor, I never thought of the probability that the object of my hatred might die long before I had discovered the secret of which I was in quest. Such is the

2:35:23contradictory conduct of one over whose actions reason no longer retains any control. I am now alone in solitary being, isolated from the rest of my species, or the social tie which binds man to the world and connects him with his fellow creatures, cannot long subsist without equality. I mean not the mere equality of birth or fortune. I have as it were acquired a nature different from the rest of mankind. The spring of my affections is dried up. Should I strive to acquire friends to what purpose were it, I should see them drop silently and gradually into the grave, conscious that I was doomed to linger out in eternity. I care not for fame. Wealth has no charms for me, for it is in my power to an unlimited extent. I must wander about a like destitute of hope and of fear, pleasure or pain. I look on the past with disgust and inquietude. I regard the future with apathy and listlessness. It may seem like egotism in me thus to intrude my personal feelings,

2:36:28but it is thus only that I can convey an idea of the misery which attends the acquisition of powers which nature has for wise purposes hidden from the grasp of mortals. Thus only can I hope to deter other ration daring spirits from a like course by showing the utter and abandoned solitariness, the exhaustion of mental and bodily faculties, and the dead and torped desolation of spirit, which is the unceasing companion of the wanderings of an immortal. End of section 7. Wanderings of an immortal. Section 8 of December Tales by William H. Ainsworth This libravox recordings in the public domain, read by Ben Tucker. Carl, the spirit torments me. Oh, the sea spirit. I do not love to credit tales of magic. Heaven's music which,

2:37:31his order, seems unstrung, and this brave world, the mystery of God, unbutified, disordered, marred, or such strange things are acted. The witch. Passing the blank in the summer of 17 blank, we were overtaken by a storm, which rapidly increased and threatened by its violence to engulf us in the waves. To one who has never experienced such a scene, no description could convey an adequate idea of its horrors, and to those who have been so situated, the description would be superfluous. The roaring of the wind, the raging of the waves, the shivering canvas, and the noise of the creaking and straining cordage, can be but faintly imagined by any of those who have known the reality. As night approached, our situation became more dreadful, and darkness added to the other causes of terror. The ship was for hours together, darted along and again hurled back by successive waves, at length daybroke, and the light of the morning, in some degree, revived our spirits.

2:38:32But the sight of our vessel was, in itself, enough to destroy all hope. She had lost a mast, her rigging was burst and shivered, and the torn sales flapped about in long strips. It seemed that but little chance remained of the vessel weathering the storm, and the captain ordered the boats to be got out. And being speedily obeyed, the crew and the few passengers crowded into them. We left the ship, and in a few moments lost sight of her. We were now entirely abandoned to the mercy of the elements. A few boards alone separated us from the ocean. We were exposed to the wind, ringing in the waves, and we had little prospect of escaping death. Added to these evils our provisions were scanty and damaged by the water. Our prospects were milling cully enough, and despair sat on every countenance. Each of us gazed at his neighbor but shuddered at the horror and dismay which met his glance. Some sat in a sullen torpor, whilst others muttered ejaculations of despair, engaged with wild and intense looks on the waves, which seemed ready to engulf us on every side.

2:39:37The storm continued for several days. We were faint and wary with exertion and suffering. Some lay down to endeavor to obtain rest, while the others threw out the water which came into the boat. A tremendous wave rolled towards us, and the other boat which had continued to keep at no great distance from us, was instantly swamped, and one of our men washed overboard. The fate of our comrades contributed to increase our misery, for the same fate might every moment overtake the survivors. Our provisions were exhausted, and famine stared us in the face. We chewed the soft leather of our shoes to deaden the sense of hunger, for every morsel of food had been consumed. One of our number died. He was to be thrown over into the sea. Two sailors laid hold of the body to perform that last sad office to it. A sudden thought seemed to seize their minds. They hesitated and looked round. It was dreadful. No one spoke yet. Everyone knew what was meant. The sailors laid the body down. Some horrid feelings seemed to agitate every

2:40:40breast, but it could not burst forth in words. It was the deep silence of everyone in the boat, the motion of the eye, a certain, pervading feeling, which told each man why the body was again placed in the boat, instead of its being committed to its watery grave. At last the captain spoke, but his voice could scarce be heard, amid the raging of the contending elements. Why is not the body thrown into the sea? He said, will you keep him here to rot into K, or do you wish to satisfy your hunger on the carcass of your fellow? He laid hold of the body, and speaking to a sailor they lifted it over the side of the boat, and it disappeared. The weather soon altered in Rukom. One morning we re greeted with the welcome cry of land. We strained our eyes to see it, and plainly perceived it at a considerable distance. We labored at our ores, and towards evening arrived at it. With some difficulty we landed and looked round on a barren and comfortless track of country, principally level, and occasionally

2:41:43interrupted by rocks jutting out of the ground, were an ill-formed and bare tree. We were, however, too much rejoice to have escaped from the sea, to examine minutely the spot on which we were thrown. Exhausted with continued fatigue, we lay down on the ground and enjoyed a profound sleep till morning. When we arose from our slumber as the bleak and cheerless prospect depressed our spirits. We were without either shelter or food, and the latter, want, pressed us most severely. For five days we had not tasted food. We wandered about in hopes of meeting with something, but there were no traces that might indicate that any living creatures save ourselves, existed on this barren spot. A few routes, however, rewarded our search, and in some degree, satisfied our hunger. We spoke but little, and that little, consisted in useless and unavailing repinings. I'd linked it occurred that we were totally destitute of any lodging to protect us from the rigor of the weather, and we therefore set about looking out for a spot suitable for erecting some kind of shelter. Two rocks which were considerably elevated above the level ground

2:42:48formed an angle which would shelter us on two sides. We stuck our ores in the ground, and stretched on them a large piece of canvas which had been used as a sail, in which we had brought along with us in the boat. We were uncovered and exposed overhead, it was true, but we were safe on ground, and even this most of us considered far preferable to being tossed about on the ocean in a boat which one wave might swallow up forever. The weather was now fine and dry. The few trees on the island were covered with verdure, and the leaves strewn on the ground composed our humble beds, and were likewise of greater use in another matter. We contrived by means of a pistol and a little powder to light a fire with leaves and branches which we broke off the trees. The scene in the evening, when the mists began to gather around, was highly picturesque. The flame rose and high and curling flashes through its red glare over the island and blazed against the rocks. As it increased, it was reflected on the waves, and extended in a long red blaze over the water. My companions, as they moved about in the light,

2:43:50which showed more plainly their hard and deep marked features seemed like some strange and fearful beings, performing their unhallowed rights. We gradually grew more cheerful, and hope represented to us the chance that some vessel might pass by and relieve us from our present desolate situation. Still our condition was wretched, and our food scarce and unhulsome, consisting merely of roots and the few fish of various kinds that we occasionally found on the shore. An incident occurred, which rather startled us, and did not contribute to add to our comfort. A sailor, who had been wandering about the island, had remained out later than usual, and came running into our enclosure out of breath, his eyes starting from their sockets and exhibiting all the marks of violent terror. We inquired earnestly the reason of this appearance, as soon as he had sufficiently recovered himself, he exclaimed, I have seen a ghost! Sailors are generally superstitious, and we stared at each other with wild looks, as if each expected to encounter the eyeless skull and bloody winding sheet of some terrible

2:44:53apparition. The captain only preserved his composure unmoved. He laughed at our fears, and joked the ghost's ear unmercifully. The man, however, persisted in his tail. He was walking on the shore at a part of the island to which we had seldom resorted in our paragrenations, on account of its particularly rugged and barren appearance. Here, as he was picking up some shellfish, which lay at his feet, his attention was engaged by a slight noise, and looking up he perceived to his horror, the figure of a man, which seemed to skim along the surface of the water, and was followed by a female form who pursued him, and whom he strove but in vain to avoid. The woman overtook him, and with a tremendous laugh plunged him into the waves. In a moment after the apparition disappeared, and he saw it no more. Various were the speculations which this narration gave birth to, among the members of our society. A degree of fear prevailed among us, and whispers were circulated, as if everyone had dreaded to

2:45:54hear the sound of his own voice. The captain, too, it was remarked, who had at first made the circumstance an object of merriment, now seemed inwardly troubled, and strove in vain to dispel the melancholy which clouded his brow. On retiring to rest, all huddled together in the farthest angle of the rocks. Sleep came over us, but the imaginations of many tormented them with ghostly dreams, and occasionally an exclamation of horror would burst from someone, and disturbed the others, who, scared at the noise, joined in the hubbub, thus increasing the general confusion. Morning broke and dispeled the visions which had haunted us. Our first operation was to accompany the man to the place where, according to his narration, the spirits had appeared. Nothing was, however, to be found, accepting what were much more acceptable than ghosts. Some shellfish, which, however, the superstitious apprehensions of one or two of our number prevented their touching. Others who paid less respect to the supernatural visitors, or were more hungry,

2:46:55speedily devoured this sort of food. The day wore away without any novelty occurring in the shades of the evening began to descend. The sun, which had sunk beneath the sea, still illuminated the edges of delight clouds that skirted the horizon. It was a sweet evening, one of those whose soft and gentle influence, steel upon the soul, conjuring up those delightful reminiscences and lings-ine ideas that the mind dwells upon with unfading pleasure. The wind was quite still, and we sat down there our habitation, if such a name may be given to such a spot. The captain who had been silent all day now spoke and informed us that he thought he was able to disclose some particulars relating to the last night's occurrence. Everyone drew nearer to his neighbor, and prepared to listen, with long faces and open mouths, not unmixed with sundry twists of the eyes over the left and right shoulders, to have new warning in case any unearthly visitant should clandestinely attempt to attack us in the rear. To obviate the possibility of this however we drew as by

2:47:57instinct into a circle, in which position every side being guarded, no undue advantage could be taken by any emissary from the invisible world. When I was a cabin-boy on board the thunder-proof, said the captain, who his orator was stationed in the center of the assembly, a plot was concerted, by the greater part of the crew, to murder the captain and take possession of the vessel. I was several others who were still unconcerned in the scheme, new nothing of it till the moment of its execution. We were suddenly seized and pennioned, and the captain after being severely wounded was thrown overboard. His wife was in the ship, and hearing the noise came on deck. The villain who had concerted the plot caught her in his arms, she struggled, and escaping his grasp ran to the ship's side where stumbling she was again seized. Perceiving herself in the wretch's power she disisted from her endeavors to free herself, and he, deceived by her apparent submission, relaxed his hold. At this moment she caught him in her grasp, and with a violent effort sprung

2:49:00over the ship's side, dragging the ruffian along with her. We heard them fall into the water, we heard the shrill and heart-winding scream of her victim, as he received his well-merited punishment. We were afterwards unbound, perhaps the villains considered us too few and too insignificant to excite a alarm among them. They did not long enjoy the fruits of their crimes, the vessel was wrecked, and I, and two others alone escaped, and since that time the seas near that spot have been considered as haunted by the spirits of the victims and the murderers. Doubtless it was near this island that the events took place, but having lost our compass we can only guess at it, and the appearance which was seen by Jenkins last night bears relation to the events I have mentioned. This narration, by no means, tended to quiet our fears which rose to a considerable height. After much deliberation it was proposed that we should sit up and wait an expectation of the unwelcome visitants, which proposal was agreed to by many, with fear and trembling,

2:50:01who, however, ascended that they might not be thought to possess less courage than their fellows. Our, after our past, but we neither saw nor heard anything to justify our fears. The disagreeableness of the situation made the time seem much longer than it was in reality. We began to grow uneasy of waiting for spirits, and some spoke of giving up the watch. Still we delayed, when on the surface of the ocean far off a dim light appeared. Certainly it would be highly indecorous in me to speak ought reflecting on the courage of British sailors, but, notless, I will venture to affirm that the hair of every individual stood in a more upright and porcupined fashion than they were want to do. The appearance presently assumed a more definite form. It seemed to the likeness of a woman, and we perceived, with feelings by no means pleasant, that it approached the shore. A second figure was perceived in the act of avoiding the first. It fled towards the shore and was pursued with incredible speed by the other.

2:51:02It had almost reached the shore when it was overtaken by the female form. She seized on the hair of his head, dragged him round, and with a laugh that curdled the blood in my veins, seemingly plunged her victim in the waves and disappeared. My companions were petrified with terror, and the captain lay senseless on the ground. At last we regained some degree of self-possession, and raising the captain, with much difficulty, restored him to the use of his faculties. But the impression made upon him by this scene was so strong that it was a considerable time before he perfectly recovered from the effects of it. He declared that he knew the features of the figures as well as he knew anyone living. He became extremely uneasy, as did the rest of us, at our abode on this island, and we thought again of trusting to the boat for our deliverance, when we were fortunately taken up by a vessel and conveyed to England. Our joy at revisiting our native country may be conceived, but not described. But, if I may judge of my own feelings, none of us wish again to tempt like dangers.

2:52:08End of Section 8, The Sea Spirit. Section 9 of December Tales by William H. Ainsworth The Slybravox recording is in the public domain, read by Ben Tucker. Ophelia, belac'd this show imports the argument of the play. Amlet, we shall know by this fellow the players cannot keep council, they'll tell all. The Theature. Fantastic. Think what you will of it, I think it's done, and I think it's acting by this time. Arch, arch, what drumming's yonder, I'll lay my life they are coming to present the show I speak of. Common sense. It may be so, stay, we'll see what is. Lingua. I am neither a disciple of Jeremy Collier, nor of the author of history of Masteryx, both of whom with more zeal than discretion have occupied themselves,

2:53:10enrailing against stage plays and playgoers. More especially the latter author has contrived to steal sufficient time from the labors of his profession, to indict a goodly quartot track-tate of some thousand and odd pages, in which he logically proves the immorality of the stage by well-arranged and subtle syllogisms. Such as, things derived from the devil are evil, stage plays are sprung from the devil. Argo, stage plays are evil, which syllogism would indubitably be conclusive on the subject. Were it not that it is, unfortunately, necessary to prove his major, which he attempts to do, by the testimony of diverse fathers, of the primitive church, and among others, Tertulean, Cyprian, Chrysostom, Ignatius, Lactantius, and many other long-named men whom few of the present time know, nor if they knew what care for. Leaving therefore the reverend and learned gentlemen to slumber out their days and undisturbed forgetfulness, I confess that I am a playgoer. A confession which certainly demands no extraordinary share of resolution to make,

2:54:14as a thousand people do the same every day. But I persuade myself that I enjoy many pleasures in my theatrical hours which other people do not experience. I have not a greater number of senses than the rest of my species, but I possess, perhaps, in theatrical pleasures, a more lively power of association than the oil, who throng the gallery pit and boxes around me. Very probably there may appear in this, a great degree of overweaning egotism, but this I do not much regard. All people are egotists in their hearts. The only difference is between those who keep it pent up, and those who let it loose when occasion offers, without caring where it flies, or whose habits or prejudices it runs atill against. To proceed the primary object with most frequenters of the theatre is, I presume, at least nominally, the play. No one goes, or at any rate, acknowledges that he goes to sit in a box or on a bench, but many make going to see a play and excuse for passing away a portion of time,

2:55:17which they would not otherwise know how to occupy. Some go to meet their friends, others for less laudable meetings with fair mischiefs, as that facete personage master Janice Weathercock hathet, some to clap others to his, these go to applaud, and those to damn, some few perhaps go out of real love to dramatic entertainments, and a multitude because they have nothing else to do. As for myself, I go out of many motives. There are a variety of circumstances which conspire to furnish the satisfaction I experience. I am not cursed with that disposition to be displeased, which throws the darkest shade on everything in life. I derive pleasure from that, which anybody else may derive pleasure from, by using the same means. By resolutely banishing from the mind all inclination to cavial and fine fault, by looking on the golden side of the shield, by encouraging that spirit of optimism, which softens down the harsh and elevates, or brings into more distinct points of view the mild

2:56:19and lovely features of what we see spread around us. I go to the theatre purposefully as a recreation, and I determine from the moment I enter the pit door, or box lobby, not to suffer anything to divert me from my object. I remember with great delight the feelings I used to experience in my childhood on a visit to the theatre. It was but seldom that I went, but it was a real treat, and I know scarce anything that could equal my joy when I found myself fairly seated. The portentious green curtain on which I was want to gaze with expecting wonderment before me, while I waited with impatience for the moment that should reveal the hidden scenes. Then there was the multitude of company, the lights of the house, the painting, gilding, and other decorations which to my youthful eye seemed gorgeous, magnificence. Then too, when the promptures bells and forth its silver accents and was immediately succeeded by the agitation of the dark curtain, as it folded itself up, as if by its own voluntary motion,

2:57:21disclosing the scene behind, I felt my heart bound within me at the sight of the varied scene, where castles and rocks and woods and cataracts and trees spread forth in mimic beauty. The heroes and kings of gorgeous tragedy went sweeping by. I loved with Romeo, smile not gentle reader at a lover of twelve summers. I then but thought I loved, and my imagination was ever on the wing. With Juliet I wept for her satness chance, and listened with mingled feelings to the meaning in his madness of the Denmark prince. But it was in lear that my soul was then most strongly excited. There was a pity for his misfortunes, hatred for the unnatural daughters to whom he had given his all, wonder in commiseration for the maniac whom the foul feigned torments, and pity, admiration, and esteem for her, who exposed her tender limbs and delicate frame to the peltings of the pitiless storm, to shield his head, and give solace to his misery, who had driven her from his home and from his heart. Amongst the advantages and disadvantages

2:58:26of increasing years may be reckoned as one of the latter that familiarity with the scenes and pleasures of our youth, which takes away their sweetest bloom. The promptures bells no longer delightful to me. It is no more the sweetest, acromatic. The rarest and most exquisite, most spherical, divine, angelical. The mystery of the green curtain has faded away. The scenes are familiar to me, and the multitude of company, for I cannot bear to stay, to look on empty benches, with the lights and music and bustle fail so powerfully to excite me, but still I am fond of occasionally taking my custom seat on the fourth bench of the pit. Tis to me like frequenting Will's coffeehouse, the metropolitan academy of Queen Anne's time, where Pope and Addison and Witcherly and Steel and their fellow wits enjoy the feast of each other's converse, and laughed at the puny critics, the denises of the day. They're gone, but at the theater and some

2:59:26other favorite haunts of mine, the old hummums and Covent Garden is one, I can sometimes meet with a circle of men whose conversation is not inferior, I imagine, to that of the author of The Dunshead, or the writers of the spectator. There is my friend, proud I am to call him my friend Charles Lam, that sportive child of fancy, Quim Quinom Prosus, Amet Ilum Omnes et Virtus et Vener Odere. With his endless fond of anecdote derived from his acquaintance with the old fellows, his various reading, his skill, and using his resources, and his free and open nature, who has ever read his essays and not rejoiced in their strong and energetic application. The full, ancient, lovely quaintness of his style, and then turned with disgust from the mockish vapid, flat medium, insipidity of writers like me and my brethren. Then there are my fellows see and scarlet, two excellent fellows, and I know none that I prefer to them, or that have more

3:00:28good qualities. See is such a man as one would wish to call a friend. Warm-hearted and cool-headed, the impetuacities of his genius are held in due subjection by the clearness of his judgment. Though somewhat reserved and company, it is only needful to overcome his backwardness, to be delighted and surprised by his conversation. To a fond of good sense and correct ideas, called into constant exertion by acute and diligent observation, he adds a facility and aptness of illusion, which is astonishing. The fruit of a deep acquaintance with, and recollection of, the beauties of, the best writers in every department of literature. Among our early authors, in particular, that wide and tillate neglected field of research and pleasure, he is, in the most literal sense of the phrase, at home. Familiar with their times, their manners, their acquisitions, and learning and science, he enters into their feelings with a fellowship and congeniality of sentiment, unknown to a mere modern man. The result of his studies and requirements is that whatever

3:01:32subject he handles, he is always himself. Having always his treasures at command, he can convert them to any UC pleases, and close his thoughts and colors, which set off their native beauties to still greater advantage. Over whatever he writes, he's spread a bright gleam of intelligence, penetrating with acuteness, resembling intuition, into the causes of events and phenomena. Inceasing with inconceivable rapidity on the links of a chain of reasoning, which astonishes while it convinces. His writings are the conclusions of frequent examination and deep research, and everywhere show the masterly and delicate hand of a scholar and a gentleman. Will Scarlett is a different, not opposite, character. Younger than C, and without so great a command over himself, his inclinations not seldom get the upper hand of his discretion. More formed for society, he possesses far more general attraction than his friend. Naturally gay, he brings mirth and cheerfulness with him, and is therefore everywhere a welcome visitor. But this is merely the outward ornament that covers the nobler stuff within.

3:02:37For his intellectual powers make him no less admired among his studious associates than his handsome person, of which by the way I imagine Will is by no means insensible, and conversational talents among the ladies and his lighter acquaintances. I dwell with peculiar delight upon the recollection of the dinner I had with C. It was the first time I had been quietly seated in conversation with him, and I had for some time previous enjoyed the anticipation of the feast. C. Scarlett and myself formed the whole of the company, and with those two I enjoyed ten times the pleasure which I have ever felt in large and formal parties. The room was an old-fashioned apartment with carved oak wainscotting, blackened with age, a blazing fire ward up the chimney, forming a pleasant contrast to the howling of the wind without, for it was a dull November night. What real comfortable pleasure it was after dinner to sit by the hearth, and while we discourse to sip our hosts, while the rich rough flavor of the fallarian was seasoned by the genuine attic of C's conversation, it was impossible not to think of the dissolved friggas of Horus.

3:03:43These are the delightful hours that like good wine charmed not only in present enjoyment, but leave a flavor behind them, hours that we recur to again and again, with unalloyed pleasure. It is reminiscent like these that we feel the full force of the poet's word. Over the chimney-piece hung a portrait of old Isaac Walton. Footnote, I am fond of portraits of men who have made themselves worthy of remembrance. These lines of rogers I always read with peculiar pleasure and they may be well introduced here. Ah, most that art my grateful rapture calls, which breathes a soul into the silent walls, which gathers round the wise of every tongue, all on whose words departed nations hung, still prompt to charm with many a converse sweet, guides in the world companions in retreat. In footnote. And it does one good to contemplate his countenance, and compare the free open-hearted

3:04:44hospitable character of the Frank-Old Angler, with the precise, cold-blooded generation of everyday beings that swarm around us, mere moats in the sunshine, fruge consumer nati. Let wits talk as they like about a rod with a fish at one end and a fool at the other. The idea that a man like this thought such an amusement not unworthy of devoting his leisure to, ought at least to establish a title to respect for all anglers, and for an art itself, which, however men's taste may differ, has been the occasion of work that everyone, to whom the expression of goodness of feeling and generosity of disposition and purity and chastity of style, our sources of pleasure, will read with delight and advantage to himself in feelings of admiration and esteem towards the author. But to play our approaches and I must give up my ideal visionings in order to enjoy the realistic of the scene. I hope to God there will be a full house. I abominate empty benches to sit alone on a whole bench whose very vacuity increases

3:05:47its infernal extent. The house like a desert, the musicians scraping away their rosyne bows with careless hands creating harsh discord. Actors staring about them, kicking their heels and looking with a most sleepy and insolent indifference on the rarionante. Disernable in the house, with hearing their astray wanderer like myself, lollying at full length, or wandering in discontented solitariness from one side to the other. And in the boxes, the expected bright circle of splinter to spy occasionally, a gloomy face looking abroad, or perhaps a group of a dozen, forming a half probably of the whole set, gathered together in one box to have something like the appearance of close neighborhood. I would rather see the face of a printer's devil, importuning for his damned proof sheet, or unfinished article. Rap, rap, rap, sounds speak of the devil and he's at your elbow, disheve by all gods. And so kind and fair readers and you readers who are neither fair nor kind.

3:06:49Good night. End of section 9, The Theatre. Section 10 of December Tales by William H. Ainsworth Miss Libberbox recording is in the public domain, read by Ben Tucker. Bards of passion and of mirth, you have left your souls on earth. Have you souls in heaven to double lived in regions new? Thus you live on high and then on the earth you live again. And the souls you left behind you teach us here the way to find you, heats. Recollections. One, the impartialist satyr that ever was seen, that speaks truth without fear, or flattery or spleen. Read as you list, commended or come, mend it. The man that pended, did with finis, end it.

3:07:50Taylor. Perhaps some of the most agreeable moments in the mind of a scholar are those spent in the retrospection of early studies in recalling the hours which first opened upon him the treasures of learning. Intracing back his acquaintance with a book to its first commencement in his youth, and in seeking in associations of thought for the causes of that endeared and super-added value, with which a volume is frequently enhanced from the soft and infused light of other days. For myself I can only say that when seated at home in my library and in a contemplative humor, it is in such speculations that I most delight. It is then a thousand pleasures do me bless and crown my soul with happiness. As I fly back to that period when uncrampt by the restraint of any particular study and unrestrained by the fetters of academic regimen, the mind was left to traverse the wide domain of literature, and seek amusement and perpetual variety, dipping into the driest and

3:08:53welcoming the most unpromising topics. With what renewed gusto did I range over the contents of a well-fed library, from robolays to the fathers, and from couriates, crudities to the sums of Aquinas, and the theological works of Boutius? With what keenness of antiquarianism did I turn over the dusty volumes of Holland Shed and Stowe, or linger over the uncouth cuts and thrilling details of foxes and clerks' martyrology? How I delighted to immerse myself in all such reading as was never read and neglect the more common and customary paths of everyday study for the huge folios and quartos, which the sons of this degenerate age can hardly lift, for the miracles of industry which our forefathers have achieved. How happy was I when only a boy of fifteen if I could get into a corner with hookers, ecclesiastical, polity, or Sir Walter Raleigh's history, and pounce upon the contents as a kite pounces upon a sparrow? The writers of the Augustine age I left to the perusal of others

3:09:55for they were read by everybody, solacing myself instead with the poetry of Claudian, Auconius, Cidonius, Apalinerus, and Prudentius, and the prose of Aulis, Jellis, Macrobius, and Amianus, Marcellinus. To me the productions of declining Rome were more valuable than the glories of her zenith. How refreshing to my view were those bulky and endless tomes of commentaries, which the era of the scholars and caustobons poured forth. The text of a writer without its due modicum of annotation was to me as erud and ungrateful as a plain without a tree. The fathers were my boon companions, through them I range from Hermes to Saxon Vied, passing ever and a non from the pure latinity of Sopicius Severus, to the sharp and caustic epistles of St. Isidur, and the hard and embrowned acquaintance of Tertullian. Out light of heart was I, at some of those dinners which my father used to give to the reverend sons of the church, I could amaze them by edging in some

3:10:58quotation from the Cassandra of Lachafron, where the Dianisiaca of Nonus and procure the appellation of the learned boy, what delightful visions of young hope then presented themselves. Never alas, to be realized. Cass Premi, Atradis, Efunir, Messy, Arsibba. One subject which at one time formed the principal part of my study, and for which I still feel a partiality, which only grows stronger by lapse of time, was the old English drama. At that time the productions of our early dramatists did not excite as much attention as they do at present, and Mr. Lam's specimens had not been the means of introducing them to public notice. I therefore feel some degree of pride in having, as I may truly say, been one of the first to discover the inexhaustible mind of literary riches which was concealed in their truly exquisite compositions. The first circumstance which drew my attention to this class of writers I well remember, and if my readers will excuse the

3:11:58egotism which occurs in such frequent reference to myself, I will simply state it. Passing one vacation in the country with an old maiden lady, a distant relation, when I was yet very young, among the treasures which are library, none of the most capacious, by the by, afforded, I, by the chance met with an old copy of Marlowe's Dr. Faustus, a person who's name had no small attraction to me, from the eager interest with which in my younger days I devoured the adventures of his most extraordinary life and exit. I immediately took possession of it and carried it with me, for my own private reading into a small room which was a kind of sanctum sanctorum, and from which I excluded without mercy the profane inmates of the house. This little room which I remember with feelings of fondness and affection is still present to my mind's eye. Well, do I recollect its antique casements and the view it presented into the thick set shrubbery or labyrinth in which I used to construct my fortifications and retreats when I assumed the part and no mean part that I think it then of the captain of Banditi. The soft green

3:13:03hue of the trees forming a pleasing contrast to the neat and unsullied whiteness of the Wayne Scotting, and the kind of fairy prospect which was visible through the bowels of a large oak which overshadowed this part of the building I never can forget. Alas, now that that room and mansion are the property of another, I can almost say to it, oh, doma sante kwa, quam despari domenaris domina. But pardon me for this digression, young as I was, I was able to perceive that the Faustus of Marlo was a little different from the accounts of his exploits which had formerly attracted my attention. There was a something of undefined and breathless interest attached to it which seized a firm hold on my mind and communicated to it a kind of excitement which did not cease with the bare perusal of the work that caused it. The continual appearance of the good and bad angels to exercise their powers of persuasion on the unhappy Faustus, his internal and heart-rending struggles, or as they may be termed his agony and bloody sweat,

3:14:07the exaltation which he feels at the consciousness of his own superhuman power, in which but lifts him on high for a while, like the waves of a troubled sea to sink him to the lowest abyss of misery, and the last scene of agonized and maddened humanity had so deep an impression upon my feelings that I have not at this time forgotten their intensity. I have since read the Faust of Gauta, but whether it be from the influence of temporary associations or from the real inequality of the work, I must say that it did not operate upon me in anything like the same powerful degree, and I cannot but think the love adventure which is there introduced has the effect of dissipating the peculiar strange and extraordinary interest which the fate of Faustus excites. It throws more the appearance of earthliness upon the doomed and devoted subject of the Prince of Hell, and Marlow the mind is kept more closely to the hero of the drama. There is a kind of environment circle around him which seems to cut off all hope of assistance or escape. The very farcical means themselves have the effect of deepening the horror of the story.

3:15:09The burlesque is like the laugh of a maniac resounding in the Gauta, or place of skulls. His dreadful supremacy is only misery carried to an unnatural pitch and appears like Luke's iron crown, made to burn the temples on which it reposes. Marlow has been called no poet, but if there be poetry more surpassingly beautiful than the address of Faustus to Helena, and the noble concluding chorus which almost puts one in mind of the best of greece and dramatic writers, I have never had the luck to meet with it. Footnote. I thoroughly agree with you as to the German Faustus as far as I can do justice to it from an English translation. It is a disagreeable canting tale of seduction, which has nothing to do with the spirit of Faustus' curiosity. Was the dark secret to be explored to end in the seducing of a weak girl which might have been accomplished by earthly agency? When Marlow gives his Faustus a mistress, he flies him at Helen, flower of greece, to be sure and not at Miss Betsy or Miss Sally thoughtless. Cud is the branch that bore the goodly fruit, and

3:16:14whether it is Apollo's loral tree. Faustus is dead. What a noble natural transition from metaphor to plain speaking is if the figurative had flagged in description of such a loss and was reduced to tell the facts simply. Annotated V.C. In footnote. From the delight which I received from this old drama I was naturally led to seek for others of the same kind. I got possession of Doddsley's collection of plays and went through them with the most laudable diligence. The most tedious entire sum of them all did not serve to dispirit my resolution, and at the age that I then was, I cannot help giving myself some credit for such an exertion. After all this, it is perhaps needless to say that what formed the amusement of my boyhood has continued till the present hour a source of unintermitted pleasure. My readers will perhaps excuse these egotistical details and impute them to the chartered garrulity of old age to be able to forget the present in the past as

3:17:17a principle which nothing earthly can outweigh. In those trains of feeling which call forth delight in one, may strike a sympathetic cord in the heart of another, and recall distant prospects which look from afar like the sun-gilted pinnacles and steeples of some magnificent city. Happy shall I be if anything which I have here written may serve to lead to retrospect, which will always certainly be productive of pleasure, and as such cannot but be conductive to good. Two. For him was lever-han at his bed's head, twenty books clothed in blaco-red of Aristotle and his philosophy, then robes rich or fidel or sotry. Chaucer. I certainly so far resemble Chaucer's lean clerk that a well-filled library is one of my highest treats. I seem to increase in my own estimation at being admitted to the company of the wise, the learned, and the witty of all times and of all countries to listen, though but

3:18:19mentally, to their instructions, to be the confidante of their thoughts, the associate of their inquiries. And when thoughts like these press upon me, I am lifted up into another and superior sphere. Under the influence of this pleasing utopian dream my gaze on the venerable works of antiquity around me, with a pleasing awe, while fancy would almost persuade me that from their imbrowned covering I see looking out upon the intruder who disturbs their sacred rest, the countenances of the sages whose wisdom lies snugly between two sheepskin-covered pasteboards, a prey to moths, and obscured by cobwebs, save when some literary wanderer like myself draws a volume from the shelf, where it might otherwise have slumbered forever. I am sometimes inclined to regret the times when customs and principles, now old and unfashionable, were the current coin of the day, when the gallant knights and lovely ladies of romance were substantial personages, who might be seen without its being considered that a wonder was abroad, or that the marble

3:19:20sepulcher had yolded up its dead. Those times when if people had not perhaps all the wisdom or to speak more properly the knowledge of the present erudite generation, the deficiency was counterbalanced by more substantial and comfortable havings. Then the populace were a merry, unlearned, shrewd body, who attended to their business on common days, and rejoiced and plated their accustomed sports on Sundays and holidays. Then each class knew its own station, and hastened not to tread on the heels of the next in rank. Then a yeoman was a yeoman, a gentleman was a gentleman, and a nobleman, a nobleman, instead of the universal intermingling of ranks, the hot pot of precedency, which prevails in these enlightened days. After all I should not have witted wonder if our ancestors have been much more favorably portrayed than is there do. Notwithstanding my reverence for antiquity I can imagine a mob of Elizabeth's times rioting in the streets of London after dark, knocking out the windows of the houses as the lights of their heads became darkened with liquor when some event had taken place which did not suit their humors. And I can fancy with

3:20:25tolerable spirit the appearance of the thieves, bullies, pickpockets, and rascals of all kinds and sorts which were want to parade up and down Palswalk, or toss the dice, or handle the dagger, as occasion offered in white friars, alas for the glorious days of good queen-bess. There are three things in this world which, like a certain king, I do more particularly relish, old books to read, old wine to drink, and old friends to converse with. Indeed the first and the last are in one view the same. For I attach an individual interest to each volume from which I have collected information or amusement, but I would, here, speak of them separately. I have then in the whitewashed recess with the black oak groin supporting his roof, sat with friends whom I loved, some of whom I lived to mourn for, yet it is still the same. There are the stained pains meant to represent saints and martyrs. There is still the old chestnut waves at the branches, and their solitary rustling brings back

3:21:27with more vivid intenseness, those happy days and happy hours, the memory of which, when the realities or things but of memory comes back upon our hearts with softened, reflected luster. The old black tables and shining chairs are the furniture of two centuries since. The inanimate materials are the same, but the soul of friendship and mirth, which gave light to the moments and wings to the hours, is fled, and I look upon the place and feel I am alone. Yet there is pleasure in these retrospections, though mournful. There is joy in tears, and here it is that I resort. When the carers of the world press heavy upon me and feel myself lightened of half the load by the sympathy, the association of the spot where peaceful memory loves to dwell with her sister's solitude. What have we here? Ah, my old companion, and once a daily intimate and advisor, Sir Thomas Brown, shame on me that I have suffered the July here untouched and unopened, let me see, seven, eight, disnine months this most excellent volume

3:22:32has elain here, ever since the day I read it with L, what a crowd of recollections rush upon me. It was the latter end of August when L visited me. He had been on his annual journey to see his sister, and he had passed a week in her cottage, for he was one of the kindest and most affectionate sons or brothers. And when he had paid the tribute of affection to his kindred, his friends were next in his thoughts. Toward evening we rambled into the library, and, taking up our old friends, Sir Thomas, we sat down in the recess. The sun was setting, and his rich mellow beams fell upon the floor and table, tinned through the hues of the painted window, and dancing about as the branches of the old chestnut tree waved to and fro, intercepting part of the light, and throwing about grotesque shadows. We had a bottle of ancient port before us. It was something more than quadramum, Merum. We had sat thus twenty times before, and the remembrance of those past times gilded the present with a lovelyer tinge of sociality. Then was the dignified, beautiful,

3:23:34and heart-touching sentiments, and language of the most philanthropic of physicians, whose works lay before us. If any of my readers have not read them, they have a feast in store. If beauty of style and goodness of feeling are interesting to them, they will be delighted with the works. Strange, and paradoxical, as some of the positions contained in them may appear, of this practical lover of toleration, who sympathized with men of all countries and all sex, neither believing this, because Luther has affirmed it, nor denying that because Calvin hath disavouched it. Dahum, with more propriety than any writer I can name, applies the so often quoted Neil Hymam Ami-Alien-M-Puto, not that he blazes out his love of mankind at every page, not that he makes a boast and a byword of his humanity. No where are we told in express words that the author is better or wiser than the rest of his species, but we are told by the spirit of humanity which breathes through his pages by the lovely and beautiful touches of natural feeling

3:24:36which burst from him, by the whole strain and tenor of his writings, that he was one who looked upon himself as a citizen of the world, and upon mankind as his brethren. Who sympathized deeply in the joys and distresses of his fellows, whose religion, though often mixed with singularity, was pure and humble, and whose views towards his fellow creatures were found to depond that great rule of moral conduct, due unto another as thou wouldst he should do unto thee. But it is time to bid farewell to the author of the religio Medici and pass on to other subjects. Suppose we take a stroll through the library. See, here, this is the theological division which any good ancestors thought proper to heap up, not for the benefit of me, for the volumes are never opened by their unworthy descendant. I care indeed very little about the discordant opinions of theologians, nor do I ever take from the shelf the Tela Ignia Sathane, or Montague's treatise on the invocation of saints, which will therefore direct our attention to something more interesting. Do you see that little

3:25:39black cupboard with a crown on the top? That is filled with the works of royal origin. Those are the writings of James I of Scotland, the poet and lover who spent the long days in the night's eke and writing verses to celebrate his lady love, and of James I of England, the persecutor of papistry and tobacco, the monarch who was a petent when he should have been a king, and a squabbling polemic when he should have been a warrior in a statesman. These two are the writings of his less fortunate but superior son Charles. They breathe a spirit of loftiness which becomes the subject and the author. I shall not now detain my readers with any remarks on the volume bearing Charles's name, whether it belonged to him or Gordon, it is not at present to our purpose. Here are my friends the old dramatists. Here are the works of those who formerly gave delight to the crowded audiences of a tavern room or temporary shed. There's rare James surely, not Lee, the awful and solemn Webster, the witty comical, facetiously quick and unparalleled John

3:26:45Lillie. The spirited but irregular Chapman, the satirical Marston, Decker, Green Middleton, Bishop Bale with his seven-in-one mysteries, and sporting kind and tournour of whom, by the way, nobody seems to know anything. But stay, I shall say nothing new of them, and have therefore better hold my peace. There are plenty of modern erudity who, talk of Johnson's art, of Shakespeare's nature and of Cowley's wit, how Beaumont's judgment checked what Fletcher writ. The poets have ever found a welcome place among my volumes, not that I choose to encumber myself with the dull cold verses of Garth, Broome Blackmore, and the Oh Nucor, who composed the poetical list from the restoration to the clothes of the last century. I dive into those old and neglected fields from which sweets may be gathered, far different from the lingua in subitity of such writers, as I've mentioned. Of Chaucer, it is not necessary to speak, but there are many almost unknown, in whom the richness of poetry appears. The beautiful and touching simplicity of the Elder Wyatt,

3:27:48the majestic pinion of Chamberlain's muse, the far-fetched but glowing and animated conceits, mingled with innumerable beauties of a higher order, of his contemporary crusher, and the graceful fluency of Herrick, have charms of no small power for the lovers of heaven-born poetry. But the number of poets who may be called excellent are, of course, few, and many are around me which do not merit the appellation. Sir Thomas Davies, though elegant and frequently highly poetical, does not belong to the first class. Do Bartos, Divine Works, as somebody calls them, are pompous and heavy, and wherey some indeed is the lengthy doggerel of Warner's Albion's England. I had much to say on many other poets and some of our earlier prose writers, but as evening is lending a deeper gloom to the heavy dark wains, gotting them the library, I must leave this collection of books of all sorts, folios, quartos, large and small sorts, till a future period. And Yonder is see coming to partake of my frugal meal,

3:28:48and to ramble in imagination with me over the scenes of our youth. It is a treat I would not miss for the world, delce, a despair in loco. Three, he loves books, not that he has a scruple more of learning, than will suffice him to say grace, but like some pitties cowards who are oft thought-valiant for keeping store of weapons in their chambers, he loves to be esteemed, a doctor by his volumes. Wit in a constable. I've just closed and placed upon the shelf of book, the perusal of which has been a considerable fund of entertainment to me, the epistolé obscureurum virorum, the production of Hutton, either solely or with the assistance of Rubyannis and others as a poignant satire, the lash of which was directed against the ignorance and folly of the monkish theologians had it succeeded in exposing those against whom it was leveled, Leo X issued a bull for its condemnation. This work was published at the time when

3:29:49bowing to various causes, that suspicion of the proceedings of the Holy Sea and of its members were spreading abroad, which was immediately followed by the Reformation. Monasteries in their secluded inhabitants were no longer sacred from ridicule, contempt, or hatred. The triple crown shook, and infallibility became a jest. It is not to be wondered at that the publication of a work like the present should raise a considerable ferment, an excite against the author, all that malignity, which attends those who pull down the screens and expose the secrets of imposter and falsehood. Here are more epistles. A Pistolet Holiane, another interesting and entertaining work, howl was the ornament of James' time and his letters abound in that familiar chit-chat, which is the soul of a Pistolerry correspondence. A great traveler, he imports the news of foreign climbs, and hashes up his account of strange countries and manners with lively anecdotes, and apt and entertaining remarks in a way that engages our tensions without fatigue or the least

3:30:51shadow of worryness. I love collections of the letters of imminent characters. The light which they throw on their thoughts, manners, and habits is delightful, penciling out as it were those minute and more delicate markswitcher overlooked in the sketches of history, and seldom, if ever, accurately portrayed by biographers, even when individuals have themselves been their own recorders. Then there is the intimacy you seem to have with a man whose letters are open to you, his peculiar modes of expression, and his light discursive wit, unchecked by fears of criticism, give a sort of actual presence to the writer. I wish I could have seen the letters of my most favorite Pistolerry writers in their own hand writing. Whenever is the work of a great man receives a magnitude proportioned to his fame, or our own fondness for him, this latter motive, the delight which we have taken in any particular writer, would weigh most strongly with me in wishing to peruse the manuscript of his letters. I should not care very much to see the handwriting of Copernicus or Marlboro, or Charles V of

3:31:55Spain, or 12th of Sweden, or Peter the Great Barbarian, or any other of those people who have made wonderful discoveries or achieved great exploits, but for whom I care not, that is, I have no personal interest in them. I may appreciate and admire the greatness of their talents and value their works or actions, but I care little about their private characters or pursuits further than as explanatory of their operations. But I would give anything to see a letter, a friendly familiar letter of Sir Thomas Brown, or old Isaac Walton. The writing of the first might be a neat close reflective hand, something like Lambs, with the imbs and inns close to top, with an occasional sharp turned, wide tail, or a strange, pretter natural cross of a tea, and his eyes, not to be distinguished from his ease. But I am writing an essay on hand writings when I should be talking of other things. Had Arasmus possessed no wit, no liveliness, his letters would be interesting to us, but the notices that contain of the occupations and customs of our forefathers.

3:32:58But he is one of the most entertaining correspondence you can imagine. His fond of amusement is inexhaustible. If he describes a curious foreign usage, you see it, performed before you, you're acquainted with it in a moment. You perceive that you have been in the habit of seeing it since you were born. Does he give you a character? The person described as your intimate acquaintance. The likeness is palpable. You can shake hands with him, such are the epistles of Arasmus. They are in folio, such of my readers as a folio does not fright, we'll find pleasure in perusing them. I have got a large collection of epistolay here, but let us pass by them. Here are a multitude of fictions, some of the productions of the Eastern Romance. I must stop a little with these, my Muhammad and friends. The first work which I remember reading was Robinson Crusoe. What a vast number of editions. What a circulation has this most entertaining work had. What is the fame of Byron or Scott or Rogers or Lamb compared to Daniel DeFos?

3:34:02Great as the multitude of their readers have been, how far do they fall short of the countless perusers of the ship-directed Mariner of York? Lives there a boy of twelve, a milleners or manchua makers, apprentice, older young, gentle or simple, who has not sympathized in his distresses, assisted him in his architecture, and with him proud fourth clad and skins, conquered savages and built boats. The reading of Robinson is one of those events which forms an era in a man's literary life. He dates from it, as the Romans did, Ab-Eurib-Kondita. It is the time when he acquired a mass of new ideas, a second life. Another era is reading the treasures of Asiatic fiction. Here they are, Persian, Turkish, Chinese, and here is the one generally first and oftenest-read, The Arabian Knights, which is in the style and manner, purely Persian, and probably originally the work of a Persian. Be they what or whence they may, how vast has been the diffusion of these legends of genious spells and caliphs and camel drivers.

3:35:06The power they have acquired over the mind of readers is obvious, not merely from the multiplication of copies, but from the imitations which have from time to time been sent forth. An unread work is never imitated. Why are not the treasures of Asiatic literature more frequently translated and more of their beauties widely disseminated or why are some of those which have been brought so forth so little known? Does one person out of a thousand know that there is a dramatic work beautiful for its simplicity and elegance, Sakumtala, which has been translated from the language of one of the most ancient nations by Sir William Jones whose name, as a gentleman, a scholar and a lawyer is or ought to be equally a passport to whatever he considered worthy of notice. It is to be hoped that this literature neglected as it is, except by those who are, in its very birthplace, will become more general and an object of greater research. And the names Ferdousi, Hafiz and Saddi be spoken of as authors whose merits are known and acknowledged.

3:36:08I know not how I have been led into this digression, my purpose here is with those Eastern relics which are estimated. I read the Arabian knights in my twelfth year, what a world that was opened to me. The bright and fairy land of enchantment, of splendor, of romance lay before me. With what zeal did I devour the narrations themselves, possessing the magic power of which they speak, which tell of the astonishment of the boy Aladdin, at first witnessing the power of his wonderful lamp, of the miserable fisherman who had inadvertently placed himself in the power of a mighty and elignant being. And the ingenious trick by which he delivered himself, and turned the tables upon the humble genius. Long, very long, the tale of the thousand and one knights haunted my imagination, and started up in my dreams. And now in the light hues of youth and wonderment have faded away, and age has shown the emptiness and vanity of much that caught my early eye. I recur to these volumes, as a traveler who, after many wanderings,

3:37:10seeks his native home, and recognizes in every tree and rivulet and mossy stone the friends and contemporaries of his infancy. Here are more romances, but they are the romances of our own or neighboring countries. Here is the treasure of shibbleery, that memorial of knights of great worship, of fairy ladies of furious joustings, of smightings on the brainpan and throwing over horses, cruppers, which has so long preserved its existence and popularity, Lamort Nothr. But there are others which, though they find a place on my shelves, I have never been able, nor indeed inclined to wait through. Faramond, or the famous history of France, Clelia, the famous history of peresmas and piresmendus, the oregales and parathinia of quarrels, perchasas, pilgrimages, the hermetic wedding, and many more whose names are probably unknown to my readers. I marvel if the ladies of the old and time were as great devours of the romances of shibbleery as the modern are of the novels and the romances of horrors. Compare a damsel of queen

3:38:15Elizabeth's times, clad in all the outrageous stiffness of the day, sitting on a chair of a hundred wait as firm and immovable as it, save when she gracefully cooled herself with her fan of ostrich feathers, reading Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, with a fine lady of George the fourths day, languishing and miserably easing to take the privilege of coining a word, over some tender tale of sympathy or sentiment, which is the correct phrase. The production, perhaps, of a milleners apprentice, or at most a gentleman in private lodgings, i.e. the top garret. From romances and pros, to romances in verse, is an easy transition, but stay, here is one more proser whom I would mention. The voyage of the wandering knight is a most entertaining word written in the style of continued allegory, in which so many of the old writers indulged and admirably sustained throughout. It is dedicated to Drake, and now for our verseman. Of these the most beautiful is the ferronita of Chamberlain, the wild wandering story of which

3:39:15abounding as all that time do in strange adventures, mistakes in double entendres, battles, sieges and whatnot, is clothed in stately but sweet and beautiful verse. It abounds with admirable passages, and possesses more unity of design than most of the similar poems of the time, but the greater number of these works, including some of the best, start to be found among the productions of the continental writers. We in this country have never had the fortune to be attacked by moors or serencers, and therefore have wanted the opportunities of recording achievements of our warriors in delivering the land from stable invaders, in which deficiency we are inferior to the poetacters of Spain and Italy. Aureosto, Boyardo, Poulcci, Zinabbi had opportunities of this kind which we want. We have one name however which may be set against all these, a name which it is now the fashion to speak of, and to praise, without knowing much of the works of its possessor, Spencer. I have been writing here an hour or two meditating on the productions of men.

3:40:19May I turn from them to indulge for a few moments and other thoughts? Around me are the works of mortals like myself, greater, probably in station than I am, far superior in talents, power, and fame. Yet what has their repute done for them, more than my obscurity for me? They have faded, as I shall fade. Their memory is slowly perishing, as mine also shall more quickly perish. A few warm eaten leaves are perhaps all that remain to tell of the former lustre of a forgotten name. So is it with all things? I look from this window. It is a little gothic-shaped aperture, with pains and inch square. I look around and everything seems fresh and blooming. Yet, examine them closer, their fruit falling, some leaves are withered, some are fallen, and blown about at the impulse of every breeze. The evening too is coming on and the gloom is sinking. There is a spirit of melancholy, of peace, of holiness around, which hallows every scene and gives enchantment to every spot. The wild associations of youth, or the graver

3:41:21recollections of manhood, spring up in every place. See that little arbor with the tender jasmine's twining rounded, and a small stream running bubbling by it, glittering in its purity. Thirty years since I planted the trees which form it. And there in my latter days I love to sit and read my favorite authors. It grows darker. I can see no longer in the venerable gloom which encompasses me here. I will go and sit in the little arbor and read old Isaac. Farewell. Four. The sacred tapers light has gone. Gray Moss has clad the altar stone. The holy image is overthrown. The bell has ceased to toll. The long ribbed aisles are burst and shrunk, the holy shrine, to ruin sunk. Departed is the pious monk. God's blessing on his soul. I am sometimes almost inclined to regret the dissolution of the monasteries. This is however but the mere outstaying of imagination which judgment admits not the thought of.

3:42:25The reestablishment of papacy, the return of superstition, and of the long exploded infallibility and supreme power of the Vatican is what no one could, with patience, contemplate. Yet there are moments when stoner reason is subjugated to wild fancy. When the paths of probability are deserted to ramble on and often to overstep the verge of possibility, when we seek no foundation for our speculations but our own chance ideas, and on so slight a bottom fear not to raise our vast and airy edifices, so it is with me. I am an inveterate castle builder. And splendid and beautiful in my own estimation at least are the fairy scenes which rise to my imagination. Of these one of my most favorite is the mingled picture of beauty and holiness and grandeur, the adoration of a body of creatures, shot from the world, uncontaminated with the evil of sensual and earthly thoughts, in a state of happy peace, neither injuring nor injured.

3:43:26No eye to watch and no tongue to wound them, all earth forgot and all heaven around them. Their views concentrated on one object towards which their meditations, their feelings, and their passions were directed. The present entered not into their calculations. It was to another state, a state of enjoyment, which was to compensate for their mortifications, to which they looked forward. Such is the most favorable light in which to regard the subject, but unfortunately it is not born out, or rather it is contradicted by history. We find that rancorous and malignant passions existed within the embrowned walls of the monastery, as in the precincts of the courts and the luxury of cities. Luxury indeed, if credit is to be given to the accounts of their contemporaries, was not interdicted to the inhabitants of the cloister. Probably, however, about the same degree of credit is to be given to the virulent abuse, as to the unqualified praise of this or any other class of individuals.

3:44:30It is not, however, my intention to enter into any disquisition on this point. I was led to it by accidentally taking up two entertaining works, directed to the abuse of the monastic profession, the epistolé obscurorum virorum, which I have before mentioned, and a small volume, Joanna's physiophiliy specimen monocologia, in which the facet author professes to class the several species of genus monocus or monk, according to the Linnaean arrangement. Both of these works are in the Latin tongue and in both the principal merit consists in the closeness of the parody, in the first of the barbarous latinity of the men whom it was intended to ridicule, and in the second of the scientific phraseology made use of by the classifiers of natural history. The epistolé of Hutton is one of the most pleasing and entertaining burlesque sinoe, the specimen monocologia, though inferior to the first, contains a fund of amusement,

3:45:31not altogether unmixed with information. Both of them confer in vilifying the manor's knowledge, requirements, and characters of the monks, in a degree surely unwarranted by fact. But the scandal is delivered so pleasantly that we overlook the ill nature and the delight we experience in the wit and adroitness of the writers. But whatsoever may have been the general character of the monastic class, it is not to be denied that many individuals among them have been exemplary in their conduct and doctrines. This was naturally to be expected. From so large a body it would have been strange if none had possessed minds and principles above the rest, approximating in some degree to my ideal representation of the character. The examples were probably but few, yet they might be more numerous than we are aware of. They would seek a more retired situation and deeper solitude for the indulgence of their contemplations, where they might be separated equally from the open vices of the world, and the concealed and therefore more odious ones of the monks. This seclusion from the affairs

3:46:32and communion of the world might have produced a splinetic misanthropy, an affected hatred and contempt of those from whose pleasures, employment, and society they had separated themselves, had their motives been less pure, or their determination more wavering. Still a seclusion so entire demanded something to preserve it from disgust and in subitity. Those whom no extraordinary piety influenced would seek for some other employments to begile away the time, this would be the more remarkable in men of strong and active minds whose thoughts would not be sufficiently occupied by the monotonous services of their profession. They would turn into other pursuits, if these were laudable it was well for themselves and mankind, and if not hypocrisy must be resorted to, to cover what they dourced not openly of out. The latter would perhaps be the most numerous, but enough of them it is unpleasant to dwell upon instances of human frailty and dissimulation. Of the works of those whom better motives influenced

3:47:35it is perhaps hazardous to speak. Much difference of opinion has subsisted regarding the service, which this class has done to the cause of letters. Some denying them any merit, and others as scribing to them the revival, or at least the preparation for the revival of science and learning. As usual the middle way seems best. If they preserve some manuscripts, the monuments of ancient wit and philosophy, we know that the study of the classics was prohibited in religious houses. We know also that Baccaccio wept to find the library of a monastery transferred to a barn, where the books were perishing with, damp, while those that escaped were seized on and erased by the repacious owners, that the materials might serve to write salters and legends on. Let us leave this vexata questio. I have before hinted at the contemplative spirit, which in some minds was likely to be engendered by monastic discipline, where the tone of natural feeling was such as easily to receive impressions of an abstracted

3:48:36nature. The fruit of this was mysticism, a state of mind which was aspired after by some in the remote ages. The eclectic sect of Platonists sought after a deification of the human mind, and probably continued in some degree till the second century, when ammonia-sacca adopted its doctrines and was succeeded by the Christian mystics, Saint Clement of Alexandria, and Dionysus, the Ereopagite. In the Middle Ages mysticism flourished among the theological schoolmen, and in modern times several of the saints of the Roman calendar have written on the subject. This state, which is described by the initiated as conferring unimaginable pleasure, consisted of several stages, during which the soul progresses to an absolute and perfect abstraction from worldly thoughts, and seeks after and it linked attains an immediate communion with the deity. However, fans of all these opinions may appear to us, it is by no means improbable that the

3:49:36continued abstinence and excitement of feeling in which the devotees lived might produce effects, which then might seem that intimate connection with supreme power, that exaltation above the world, which they so eagerly sought after. It may be thought that a life of undying monotony of everlasting sameness would be insufferable, but use reconciles to everything, and to me, who think with the feelings of age, the still uninterrupted ease and pious serenity of the cloister, seem like the lovely gloom in deepening shade of evening, which though it wants the brightness, is free from the fervent and scorching heats of noon. To those two, to whom the denial and seclusion of monastic life were not a cloak of hypocrisy, whose choice had not been made merely from a disgust to a world which their vices and passions had rendered hateful to them. To those whom true piety in the influence of holy musings had led to a deliberate and steady adoption of such a life, the monotonous existence which is complained of would not be without its charms.

3:50:41The moments which were unoccupied by religious services could be dedicated to intellectual improvement, to useful and strengthening meditation. Secluded from the pleasures of the world they were without many of its calamities, when once separated from society, once cut off from the bulk of mankind, when the pain of that one partying was over, they had nothing more to dread, they had taken up their boat for life. Whatever storms might agitate the wayward passions or feelings of others, they had no connection with them. They were secure in their loneliness. True, they saw the companions of their solitude fall around them. One by one they followed them to their common bed, and strut upon them the lifeless clay, the fresh plucked flowers, the emblems of mortality. But this was all, they had no other partings. To me this would have been the greatest, the most valuable of their immunities. I have a vivid sensitiveness to the associations of time in place. I do not care to have any of these ties, feeble and gossamer-like as they may seem

3:51:44rudely snapped a sunder. I cannot leave a place where I have passed even a few days without regret, sometimes not without sorrow. To those spots where I have made a longer residence, I am more strongly bound, and yet I have frequently parted from scenes endeared by a thousand sweet and soothing remembrances. I have passed my childhood, boyhood, manhood, and old age amid different scenes, and in widely varied situations. Yet I cannot revisit any of them without finding something which has a hold upon my bent affections, something which awakens the flood of grief whose luxury joy could never equal. But this is the softened down feeling, the reflected emotion robbed of its poignancy, the grateful shadow of what I felt at the time of separation, the moment of parting, that moment when every dear and cherished feeling connected with the scenes we leave rises up more vividly to our hearts. When even if we part with no friends, nor kindred,

3:52:44none whom sociable and constant interchange of good wishes and friendly services have made as it were part of our very being necessary to our existence, yet the very inanimate objects to which we have been accustomed, a book, a drawing, an instrument, seem to claim the rights of old acquaintances, to expostulate with us, to upgrade us for our departure. It is then that in all the fullness and bitterness of feeling we know the pain of parting, the rending of the heart, which accompanies the separation from the things which have grown around us, and twined round our very souls. Much of our happiness here depends upon possibilities, such is the pleasure which we derive from friends, kindred, and relationship. How great is the possibility that we may part from them, that we may be left solitary and lonely sojourners, desolate in the midst of crowds, wretched, while joy is everywhere sparkling round us. There is one possibility upon which I rest with pleasant and grateful expectation. It is that when the writer of these trifles shall have withered away,

3:53:47and become as a thing that was, someone who may casually peruse them may be led by the brief mention he may find of those whose talent and writings have adorned his country, to look farther into them, to explore their beauties, and venerate their genius, and that something may be found amid these hasty thoughts and ramblings of imagination, to touch the feeling and awaken not ungrateful associations in the hearts of his reader. If so, his wish will have been fulfilled, and his aim accomplished. End of Section 10. Recollections Section 11 of Disember Tales by William H. Ainsworth This Libravox recording is in the public domain, read by Ben Tucker. They all enjoy. The long usage has rendered a preface, an almost necessary part of a work, a kind of expected, how do you do salute to neglect, which is, consider a breach of the courtesy,

3:54:48which a writer owes to his readers? I am not equally authorized by custom and prolonging the time of separation by a validictory address, and yet I feel a kind of reluctance to leave the volume, trifling and insignificant as it is, without a shake of the hand and a parting goodbye. The fondness of an author for his works is indeed excessive, and it is not without feelings of regret that he lays down the pen after adding the finishing stroke to his production. I feel with Gibbon, a sober melancholy spread over my mind, by the idea that I have taken an everlasting leave of an old and agreeable companion. There was a kind of vacancy in one's daily routine of occupations, and though the task may at times have been irksome, the want of it is felt as an evil. To spin out sentences in this manner, after the proper termination of the book may perhaps be deemed egotistical, but in the writer of tales this egotism may be forgiven. His chance of fame is slight in need, longevity is denied to his labors. The philosopher, politician, divine, or scholar,

3:55:51may endure for ages. What has once been well said and established in the walks of science needs not repetition and is preserved in the works of its author. But with the writer of amusing volumes, it fares differently. New novelties spring up, to be read, he must have allurements of style, and as style rapidly changes, his writings please no longer. Becken and Sydney were contemporaries. Each was the leader in his own peculiar walk. Novo Morganum is quoted with reference and relied on as authority, but the dust accumulates on the unopened tomb of the Arcadia. Farewell then to these, the at least harmless amusement of my solitary hours, that they may amuse his readers is the highest ambition of the writer. Philosophical theories or learnative researches he has not to offer. To while away an idle hour in a not unpleasant, perhaps not unprofitable manner is all he aspires to. If he succeeds in this, he will be satisfied. To humble, to attract the smile, he will also

3:56:54escape the lash of criticism. How it is received will matter little to him. In the words of a great moralist, he can say, that he dismisses it with train-quality having little to fear or hope from sincher or from praise. End of section 11. End of December Tales by William H. Ainsworth.