ences I heard. He told of a wild cry disturbing the
silence of the night--of the gathering together of the household--of
a search in the direction of the sound; and then his tones grew
thrillingly distinct as he whispered me of a violated grave--of
a disfigured body enshrouded, yet still breathing--still
palpitating--_still alive_!

He pointed to garments;--they were muddy and clotted with gore. I spoke
not, and he took me gently by the hand: it was indented with the impress
of human nails. He directed my attention to some object against the
wall. I looked at it for some minutes: it was a spade. With a shriek I
bounded to the table, and grasped the box that lay upon it. But I could
not force it open; and in my tremor, it slipped from my hands, and fell
heavily, and burst into pieces; and from it, with a rattling sound,
there rolled out some instruments of dental surgery, intermingled with
thirty-two small, white and ivory-looking substances that were scattered
to and fro about the floor.

ELEONORA

Sub conservatione formae specificae salva anima.

_ Raymond Lully_.

I AM come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion. Men
have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether
madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence--whether much that is
glorious--whether all that is profound--does not spring from disease
of thought--from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general
intellect. They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which
escape those who dream only by night. In their gray visions they obtain
glimpses of eternity, and thrill, in awakening, to find that they
have been upon the verge of the great secret. In snatches, they learn
something of the wisdom which is of good, and more of the mere knowledge
which is of evil. They penetrate, however, rudderless or compassless
into the vast ocean of the "light ineffable," and again, like the
adventures of the Nubian geographer, "agressi sunt mare tenebrarum, quid
in eo esset exploraturi."

We will say, then, that I am mad. I grant, at least, that there are two
distinct conditions of my mental existence--the condition of a lucid
reason, not to be disputed, and belonging to the memory of events
forming the first epoch of my life--and a condition of shadow and doubt,
appertaining to the present, and to the recollection of what constitutes
the second great era of my being. Therefore, what I shall