connection between the visible and the
invisible world; to believe that supernatural powers and invisible forms
surround man, and either protect him or else curse him.

There were hours in which he believed in the reality of his dreams--in
which he did not doubt of that melancholy and horrible fate which they
foretold.

Formerly he had given himself up to it with smiling resignation; but
now--since he loved Catharine, since she belonged to him--now he would
not die. Now, when life held out to him its most enchanting enjoyments,
its intoxicating delights--now he would not leave them--now he dreaded
to die. He was therefore cautious and prudent; and, knowing the king's
malicious, savage, and jealous character, he had always been extremely
careful to avoid everything that might excite him, that might arouse the
royal hyena from his slumbers.

But it seemed to him as though the king bore him and his family a
special spite; as though he could never forgive them that the consort
whom he most loved, and who had the most bitterly wronged him, had
sprung from their stock. In the king's every word and every look, Henry
Howard felt and was sensible of this secret resentment of the king; he
suspected that Henry was only watching for the favorable moment when he
could seize and strangle him.

He was therefore on his guard. For now, when Geraldine loved him, his
life belonged no longer to himself alone; she loved him; she had a claim
on him; his days were, therefore, hallowed in his own eyes.

So he had kept silence under the petty annoyances and vexations of the
king. He had taken it even without murmuring, and without demanding
satisfaction, when the king had suddenly recalled him from the army that
was fighting against France, and of which he was commander-in-chief, and
in his stead had sent Lord Hertford, Earl of Sudley, to the army which
was encamped before Boulogne and Montreuil. He had quietly and without
resentment returned to his palace; and since he could no longer be a
general and warrior, he became again a scholar and poet. His palace was
now again the resort of the scholars and writers of England; and he was
always ready, with true princely munificence, to assist oppressed and
despised talent; to afford the persecuted scholar an asylum in his
palace. He it was who saved the learned Fox from starvation, and took
him into his house, where Horatius Junius and the poet Churchyard,
afterward so celebrated, had both found