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النشر الإلكتروني

CHAPTER VII.

Si fractus illabatur orbis
Impavidum facient ruinæ.

HORAT.

WHETHER I was excited by the conversation to which I had been listening, or whether the bright moonlight made me restless, by an influence which I have so often felt that I attribute it to a kind of lunar magnetism, I know not; but I found it impossible to sleep that night. The heavens were as clear and serene as the intelligence of an angel, and the moon was looking down in queenly splendour. To court repose was useless; so after tossing wakefully for several hours I rose, and descending quietly, made my way into the open air. The portico of the house was shaded by a small roof; and I paused under it a moment to look out upon the scene. There ran from the sea towards the house at a little distance a thick row of large trees, whose deep covering completely intercepted the light of the moon. While I lingered on the porch I perceived the faint image of two men standing under these trees, apparently engaged in earnest conversation, for occasionally a low and suppressed sound of words reached my ear, though no part of their remarks could be distinctly heard Unwilling to be even the accidental witness of a communication in which I had no concern, and which was plainly intended to be private, I gave an indication of my whereabout, by walking with some noise, along the portico in the opposite direction. On turning round after a little while, the men were no longer to be seen, and I dismissed the circumstance entirely from my mind.

While I strolled along the beach meditating various fancies, I saw at some distance upon the bank above me, two men coming upward in the direction in which I was. As far as I could judge from their appearance, they were the same persons whom I had seen before conversing in the shade. There happened to be a large rock near me on the shore, and willing to avoid the awkwardness of

meeting persons at such an hour, I withdrew behind its shadow, intending to remain there till they were past. As they came opposite to me, their conversation was so loud that in the stillness of the night I could not help hearing it.

"The boy," said one of the men in a calm clear tone, and as he spoke I was sure that I had heard the voice, but when and where I could not by any effort call to remembrance," the boy, Seward, though treating me with great civility, has, I perceive, taken a dislike to me. I require two days to remove the impression ; on the second night after this I will send him to you. You will of course receive him kindly."

"Never fear for that," said the other, with a low, chuckling laugh.

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As for Stanley," resumed the first speaker, we will leave him till bis return to town.

"He will"—and here the increasing distance prevented my hearing any more.

The fear of being seen and being thought an intentional auditor of a private discourse, compelled me to remain till they were out of sight; and I lost the opportunity of discovering who they were.

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The remarks which I had heard, filled me with a good deal of surprise and curiosity. I had heard my own name and that of Seward mentioned by these men in a connexion, and for a purpose which I did not understand. Who they were, and what was their plot, I could not imagine. Excepting the persons whom I have before mentioned, there was no one at the shore who knew me ; and why I should be selected as the victim of any scheme was what I could not well discover. The voice of one of the speakers was certainly familiar to my ear; and this circumstance increased my perplexity.

I remained beside the rock for a considerable length of time, reflecting upon the extraordinary conversation which I had heard. Presently the sound of footsteps struck upon my ear, indicating the approach of some one along the beach from the quarter toward which the others had gone. I waited unconsciously in the shade until he was quite near me, when, as I did not wish to be detected in a hiding-place, for he was coming directly towards

me, I stepped out a little distance into the moonlight. I perceived after a moment's observation that it was Mr. Tyler, the person to whom I had been presented on the preceding evening.

He came up to me with frankness and an air of pleasure, and said in a very hoarse tone of voice, "Good evening, sir, or rather, perhaps, good morning! for I think that the noon of night must be passed. I owe it to my character to tell you why I am found here at this hour, and to relieve myself from the charge of romanticising by the sea at midnight. The mere truth is that the moon stared so fiercely into my windows that I found it impossible to sleep, and so I came forth to refresh, myself in the air. The splendour of the night has tempted me to walk farther I fear than I ought to have done, and the dampness of the sand has given me a severe hoarseness."

"I am rather surprised at that," said I, "considering the extreme warmth of the day and the dryness of the night. Although in general very susceptible of cold, I have not perceived any moisture in the soil."

"Have you been long here?" said Tyler, looking up at the moon and gaping, as he swung his cane round his hand.

"For some time;" I replied, "and we are not the only watchers, for there past me just now two persons in the direction from which you came. I am surprised that you did not meet them."

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'I did not see them," said he; "they probably turned off to a gambling-house which is just above us, before I met them. Let the virtuous and the studious labour late as they may, the vigil of passion will outlast their waking."

"I know not why you should apologise,” said I, “for being met on a spot like this: for there is to the man and the philosopher, as well as to the poet excellent voice' in the silence of this air. The contemplation of a scene so pure and vivid is like a new creation of the celestial spirit. We long retain the influence of such communion, in the calmness of the temper and the dignity of the mind, in the concord of the energies and the repose and harmony of the passions: and it has power as teacher of a higher and more sanctified conclusion. Few will fail to

trace the form of Deity in the o'er-mastering tempest and the impetuous whirlwind-the storm, and the struggle of the elements-but to me there is in this ominous stillness -this expectant silence-more emphatic mark of an Almighty presence."

Tyler listened motionless to my remarks, and when I had finished, replied with resolute accent. "There is but one God, and his name is, PRUDENCE. His seat is the human intellect; his minister, the right hand of man. Suffer not yourself, sir, to be the slave of your own fancy, or, worse, of your own fears. You stand here amusing your understanding with notions of an external and allpervading power, and beguiling the time, harmlessly, as you think, by the strong visions of the mind; not perceiving how poisonous is the air you breathe--not knowing that your folly is forging adamantine fetters for your wisdom. It is by this fatal indulgence, from youth to manhood, of the creative powers of imagination that the original vigour of man is enchained and crippled; that the lord totters to a slave and the weakness of nature prevails over its strength. In another sense than the poet's intellectually and morally-the child is father of the man; and he mostly rules him with the sway of a Jewish sire. Man goes through life, terrified by the demon apprehensions which scared his unformed youth. The foolish suggestions of an idle nurse are the tyrant terrors of his manly being. Notions planted by the cradle, overshadow and darken his mature existence, and the ripened intellect is the vassal of the ungrown fancy. Men thus prepare their own subjection-rough hew the sceptre of a liege. They wander on crouchingly, with faces bent towards the earth, till anon there arises one who knows to think, and dares to act his thoughts, and he, mounting upon this trellis-work of superstition and mental tyranny, rears an empire over the weakness of his fellows. Such men become the demigods of a nation and give name to eras. Were these men stronger than their fellows? No, but they were freer! Were they clearer-minded, or farther-sighted? No, they were only freer! Were they wiser, better, more laborious, more enduring? None of these things: their freedom was the magic of their might! It was not that they could think

deeper; it was that they did think! it was not that they could act more vigorously; it was that they did act! Resolution was their guide, and confidence their strength. When danger, or the dread of it, encompasses the soulwhen timidity fluctuates and excitement roars—who then controls? Not he, whose intellect is most logically practised-whose memory is richest stored-whose tongue is brightliest eloquent: but he whose eye blenches least→ whose heart beats the calmiest: he, it is, is master of the hour. Reason, learning, and words perish in such moments, and the hand of iron turns the scale. Feeling and fancy are the creeping plants that rise and rend the foundations of the mind. They are cumbrous garments which the athlete of ambition must fling to the ground: he must strip for the contest, and come naked to the encounter. If you would place yourself at the summit of your most daring wish, trust your own intellect; hold it equal to all things, and rest assured that by the law of the uni verse, matter yields to mind, and the feeble will is governed by the stronger. Inscribe upon your portfolio in the time of peace-engrave upon your breastplate in the hour of battle- Who trusts himself, is master of mankind.' Upon this alone," placing his finger upon his forehead, upon this alone have I depended in life, and amid all the trials of a most tempestuous life, it has never failed me. It has protected me amid the clash of swords, when I stood unarmed-amid the wily machinations of diplomatists, when I stood unsupported, and amid the confusion of human passions, when I stood, the central aim of circling hate."

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"But surely," said I, "sentiments so exalted in their origin, cannot be so degrading in their influence. Religion came from heaven."

"And so did Satan."

"But what is more noble and more ennobling," said I, "than the great scheme of Divine superintendence; and as such it has been accepted by the most elevated mind. There is a stooping which exalts."

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Religion," replied Tyler, " is sometimes the resort of virtue, but oftener the refuge of cowardice. The idea of a God and of moral responsibility was invented by the strong to establish their dominion, and accepted by the

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