1830.] A Night on Dartmoor. 47 



ing back on memory ; the Paradise of inexperience, from which the 

 flaming sword of Truth has long since exiled us, rises again in all the 

 pristine beauty of its flowers and verdure ; the very spot where we 

 breathed our first vows of love ; the slender, girlish figure, that, gliding 

 like a sylph beside us, listened entranced to that avowal, made in the face 

 of Heaven, beneath the listening evening star ; the home that witnessed 

 her decline ; the churchyard that received her ashes ; the grave wherein 

 she now sleeps, dreamless and happy, deaf alike to the Syren voice of 

 praise, and the withering sneers of envy such sweet but solemn 

 recollections sweep, in shadowy pomp, across the mind, conjured up 

 by the spells of Twilight, as he waves his enchanted wand over earth. 



While journeying on my winding road, now pausing to mark some 

 crag that jutted boldly out beside me, and now looking forward to 

 where the distant village of South Zeal lay sleeping fearlessly at the 

 giant feet of Dartmoor, drenched in the golden beauty of one world, 

 while its little tapering church spire pointed upwards to another, I felt 

 the full influence of the feelings I have just described. The landscape 

 was indeed irresistible. The rich meadows that skirted the moor, with 

 their numerous rivulets winding through them, like silver threads, and 

 the tall hedges relieving what might otherwise have seemed monotonous 

 in their aspect, lay stretched in peaceful loveliness before me ; while the 

 tinkling of the distant sheep-bell was the only sound that broke the 

 Sabbath stillness of Nature, who seemed, in respectful awe, to watch the 

 last looks of the king of day, as he furled his blood-red banners, and, lit 

 by a thousand torches in the west, rushed like a conqueror to his grave. 



Absorbed in this expressive sight, 1 had passed unconsciously over five 

 long miles of moor, and calculated, that about four more would bring me 

 to my desired haven. Unluckily, on passing round a projecting cone, 

 at the base of which ran the only accessible path- way, I abruptly lost 

 sight of my guide, the church-spire of South Zeal. To increase my 

 embarrassment, the road, forming an acute angle at the point where I 

 now stood, branched off in two different directions, both of which led 

 close beside a morass, and unrelieved by the companionship of house, 

 hedge, or sign-post, seemed to stretch away to an endless distance. In 

 this perplexity, ignorant which path was the right one, I looked round 

 me for assistance, but in vain ; not a soul was near, all traces of animate 

 nature were extinct ; on either side blackened a tremendous expanse of 

 wilderness, behind me the same repulsive landscape, varied here and 

 there by the abrupt rising of some spectral elm, which stood frowning 

 with outstretched arms in the distance. 



Twilight meanwhile crept on : already the west looked dark, and the 

 inky shades of night fell thick and murky on the moor. There was 

 evidently not a moment to be lost ; so selecting the road which seemed 

 most likely to lead me into the desired track, I hummed a lively air, to 

 show that I was not afraid, and moved briskly forward, keeping up my 

 spirits by the recollection of the good dinner, the cheering wine, the 

 snug inn parlour, with its warm flowing curtains, and the various other 

 items of comfort that awaited me at my journey's end. 



By this time darkness, with a giant's step, had traversed the whole 

 moor. My very path-way looked dim and doubtful, and so far from 

 leading out, seemed only to lead further into the waste. Still I kept 

 slowly plodding plodding onwards ; though every step I took, became 

 more and more insecure from the marshy nature of the ground. 



