1829.] a Candle-light Story. 62? 



dark, whom I was here for the purpose of meeting, uninvited and alone, 

 appeared unquestionable and complete. Do the dead then still walk in 

 this age of scornful unbelief? Can it be that the testimonies of the 

 great, the learned, and the devout of past ages, are indeed true ? For 

 what purpose does the shade of the departed revisit the haunts beloved in 

 its mortal existence ? and what connexion have these visits with the living 

 denizens of the earth, to whom the apparition is revealed ? These ques- 

 tions passed with the rapidity and yet distinctness of lightning before 

 my mental vision ; and the last, Hke the eighth spectre-king, seemed to 

 " bear a glass which shewed me many more." 



The very elements of nature conspired against, my resolution ; for the 

 night-blast at this moment, striking the umbrageous canopy under which 

 I walked, shook the grove to its centre. But the mingled voices of air 

 and earth could not drown a single, low, hollow sound, which now fell 

 upon my eai-: it was a footstep, solemn, measured, and majestic, yet as 

 soft as if the tread was on a carpet of summer moss. I cannot disguise 

 the sensation of terror which I experienced when my expectation was 

 thus realized; and I will even own that, with a puerile attempt at self- 

 deceit, when the signal compelled me to fix my eyes upon the space 

 which might contain the approaching object, I directed their gaze rather 

 to the distance beyond. My mind, however, was not to be cheated ; I 

 felt the advance of that unseen and unknown visitant. I heard his 

 footsteps amidst the shrieking of the storm and the groaning of the 

 vexed trees ; nearer — nearer — nearer came the sound ; my trembling 

 limbs almost refused to proceed ; and at length I stopped suddenly, and 

 reeled backwards as if to escape some fatal contact. 



The light flashed in my face, and as instantaneously disappeared. I 

 saw no more than on the former evening ; and yet enough to convince 

 me of the perfect resemblance between the object which passed through 

 the gloom — I had almost said of its absolute identity — with the portrait 

 of my deceased uncle. It was no illusion, no trick of imagination ; I 

 assert, distinctly and solemnly that, on opening my eyes after the mo- 

 mentary glare had passed, I saw the dark figure gliding slowly and 

 silently by my side. 



The next moment I awoke from the stupefaction in which I had been 

 plunged ; shame, anger, and a desperate curiosity, restored energy to 

 my mind and activity to my limbs : I shouted at the extent of my voice, 

 rushed furiously after the retreating phantom, swept from side to side 

 of the avenue with extended arms, and finally sunk upon the ground in 

 a state of complete exhaustion. 



The next day I was feverish and unwell. The first excitement had 

 been beneficial, and had acted like a reviving cordial on my health and 

 spirits : the second was too great either for mind or body, and I felt the 

 same sensations of lassitude and despondency which usually follow a 

 debauch. The events of the night seemed indistinct and confused ; and 

 they were neither sought nor shunned by my memory. I sat at the 

 fire-side during the whole day, and beheld the shades of evening gather- 

 ing in the room with neither pleasure nor alarm. The gusty weather 

 of the last few days had changed, and an unusual stillness hung upon 

 the hour ; but at length the shadows dispersed with a sudden abruptness, 

 and a heavy pattering of rain succeeded. 



I had raised tlie window after dinner, that the fragrant l)reath of 

 evening might serve instead of pastilles ; and althougli the air was so 



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