hin that sleep didst conceal a dream, whose meanings in after years,
when slowly I deciphered, suddenly there flashed upon me a new light; and
even by the grief of a child, as I will show you reader hereafter, were
confounded the falsehoods of philosophers.[9]

In the _Opium Confessions_ I touched a little upon the extraordinary power
connected with opium (after long use) of amplifying the dimensions of
time. Space also it amplifies by degrees that are sometimes terrific. But
time it is upon which the exalting and multiplying power of opium chiefly
spends its operation. Time becomes infinitely elastic, stretching out to
such immeasurable and vanishing termini, that it seems ridiculous to
compute the sense of it on waking by expressions commensurate to human
life. As in starry fields one computes by diameters of the earth's orbit,
or of Jupiter's, so in valuing the _virtual_ time lived during some
dreams, the measurement by generations is ridiculous--by millennia is
ridiculous: by aeons, I should say, if aeons were more determinate, would be
also ridiculous. On this single occasion, however, in my life, the very
inverse phenomenon occurred. But why speak of it in connexion with opium?
Could a child of six years old have been under that influence? No, but
simply because it so exactly reversed the operation of opium. Instead of a
short interval expanding into a vast one, upon this occasion a long one
had contracted into a minute. I have reason to believe that a _very_ long
one had elapsed during this wandering or suspension of my perfect mind.
When I returned to myself, there was a foot (or I fancied so) on the
stairs. I was alarmed. For I believed that, if any body should detect me,
means would be taken to prevent my coming again. Hastily, therefore, I
kissed the lips that I should kiss no more, and slunk like a guilty thing
with stealthy steps from the room. Thus perished the vision, loveliest
amongst all the shows which earth has revealed to me; thus mutilated was
the parting which should have lasted for ever; thus tainted with fear was
the farewell sacred to love and grief, to perfect love and perfect grief.

Oh, Ahasuerus, everlasting Jew![10] fable or not a fable, thou when first
starting on thy endless pilgrimage of woe, thou when first flying through
the gates of Jerusalem, and vainly yearning to leave the pursuing curse
behind thee, couldst not more certainly have read thy doom of sorrow in
the misgivings of thy tr