us go home, my
friends, and wrestle in prayer against the Tempter."

The heretic and his orthodox bride departed into the thick wilderness,
under the guidance of Passaconaway, and in a few days reached the
Eldorado of the heretic and the persecuted, the colony of Roger
Williams. Passaconaway, ever after, remained friendly to the white men.
As civilization advanced he retired before it, to Pennacook, now
Concord, on the Merrimac, where the tribes of the Naumkeags,
Piscataquas, Accomentas, and Agawams acknowledged his authority.

THE OPIUM EATER. (1833.)

Heavens! what a revulsion! what an upheaving from its lowest depths
of the inner spirit! what an apocalypse of the world within me!
Here was a panacea, a pharmakon nepenthes for all human woes; here
was the secret of happiness about which philosophers had disputed
for so many ages: happiness might be bought for a penny, and
carried in the waistcoat pocket.--DEQUINCEY's "Confessions of an
Opium Eater."

HE was a tall, thin personage, with a marked brow and a sunken eye.

He stepped towards a closet of his apartment, and poured out a few drops
of a dark liquid. His hand shook, as he raised the glass which
contained them to his lips; and with a strange shuddering, a nervous
tremor, as if all the delicate chords of his system were unloosed and
trembling, he turned away from his fearful draught.

He saw that my eye was upon him; and I could perceive that his mind
struggled desperately with the infirmity of his nature, as if ashamed of
the utter weakness of its tabernacle. He passed hastily up and down the
room. "You seem somewhat ill," I said, in the undecided tone of partial
interrogatory.

He paused, and passed his long thin fingers over his forehead. "I am
indeed ill," he said, slowly, and with that quavering, deep-drawn
breathing, which is so indicative of anguish, mental and physical.
"I am weak as a child, weak alike in mind and body, even when I am under
the immediate influence of yonder drug." And he pointed, as he spoke,
to a phial, labelled "Laudanum," upon a table in the corner of the room.

"My dear sir," said I, "for God's sake abandon your desperate practice:
I know not, indeed, the nature of your afflictions, but I feel assured
that you have yet the power to be happy. You have, at least, warm
friends to sympathize with you. But forego, if possible, your
pernicious stimulant of laudanum. It is hurryin