4 THE FLOltAL TELEGRAPH. 
that trembles while it burns, lay at 
your feet, is the offspring and the 
proof of a gentle supernatural agency; 
and, should this volume bear upon it 
too strongly the taint of earth, it must 
have acquired this mark of debase¬ 
ment by passing through my all too 
unworthy hands. 
It was on the 25th of last June, in 
the year of our Redemption, 1835, 
that I was sojourning, for a space, at 
the country-seat of my worthy old 
friend, Sir Aldobrand Belamour, se- 
cludedly but romantically situated in 
the south of Devon. It was about four 
hours that the sun had been journey¬ 
ing towards his dark green forest-bed 
