a
sensualist, in my temperate and fastidious way.

Now, reader, during the last two pages I have been giving you honey
fresh from flowers, but you must not live entirely on food so luscious;
taste then a little gall--just a drop, by way of change.

At a somewhat late hour I returned to my lodgings: having temporarily
forgotten that man had any such coarse cares as those of eating and
drinking, I went to bed fasting. I had been excited and in action all
day, and had tasted no food since eight that morning; besides, for a
fortnight past, I had known no rest either of body or mind; the last few
hours had been a sweet delirium, it would not subside now, and till long
after midnight, broke with troubled ecstacy the rest I so much needed.
At last I dozed, but not for long; it was yet quite dark when I awoke,
and my waking was like that of Job when a spirit passed before his face,
and like him, "the hair of my flesh stood up." I might continue the
parallel, for in truth, though I saw nothing, yet "a thing was secretly
brought unto me, and mine ear received a little thereof; there was
silence, and I heard a voice," saying--"In the midst of life we are in
death."

That sound, and the sensation of chill anguish accompanying it, many
would have regarded as supernatural; but I recognized it at once as the
effect of reaction. Man is ever clogged with his mortality, and it was
my mortal nature which now faltered and plained; my nerves, which jarred
and gave a false sound, because the soul, of late rushing headlong to an
aim, had overstrained the body's comparative weakness. A horror of great
darkness fell upon me; I felt my chamber invaded by one I had known
formerly, but had thought for ever departed. I was temporarily a prey to
hypochondria.

She had been my acquaintance, nay, my guest, once before in boyhood; I
had entertained her at bed and board for a year; for that space of time
I had her to myself in secret; she lay with me, she ate with me, she
walked out with me, showing me nooks in woods, hollows in hills, where
we could sit together, and where she could drop her drear veil over me,
and so hide sky and sun, grass and green tree; taking me entirely to her
death-cold bosom, and holding me with arms of bone. What tales she would
tell me at such hours! What songs she would recite in my ears! How she
would discourse to me of her own country--the grave--and again and again
promise to conduct me there ere long; and, drawing m