* * * * *

The binding was of dingy calf-skin. I opened it, and as I did so another
strange thrill of pleasure shot through my frame. The first object on
which my eyes rested was a picture; it was exceedingly well executed, at
least the scene which it represented made a vivid impression upon me,
which would hardly have been the case had the artist not been faithful to
nature. A wild scene it was--a heavy sea and rocky shore, with mountains
in the background, above which the moon was peering. Not far from the
shore, upon the water, was a boat with two figures in it, one of which
stood at the bow, pointing with what I knew to be a gun at a dreadful
shape in the water: fire was flashing from the muzzle of the gun, and the
monster appeared to be transfixed. I almost thought I heard its cry. I
remained motionless, gazing upon the picture, scarcely daring to draw my
breath, lest the new and wondrous world should vanish of which I had now
obtained a glimpse. 'Who are those people, and what could have brought
them into that strange situation?' I asked of myself; and now the seed of
curiosity, which had so long lain dormant, began to expand, and I vowed
to myself to become speedily acquainted with the whole history of the
people in the boat. After looking on the picture till every mark and
line in it were familiar to me, I turned over various leaves till I came
to another engraving; a new source of wonder--a low sandy beach on which
the furious sea was breaking in mountain-like billows; cloud and rack
deformed the firmament, which wore a dull and leaden-like hue; gulls and
other aquatic fowls were toppling upon the blast, or skimming over the
tops of the maddening waves--'Mercy upon him! he must be drowned!' I
exclaimed, as my eyes fell upon a poor wretch who appeared to be striving
to reach the shore; he was upon his legs but was evidently half-smothered
with the brine; high above his head curled a horrible billow, as if to
engulf him for ever. 'He must be drowned! he must be drowned!' I almost
shrieked, and dropped the book. I soon snatched it up again, and now my
eye lighted on a third picture: again a shore, but what a sweet and
lovely one, and how I wished to be treading it; there were beautiful
shells lying on the smooth white sand, some were empty like those I had
occasionally seen on marble mantelpieces, but out of others peered the
heads and bodies of wondrous crayfish; a wood of thick green trees
skirted th