her.' I had better have nothing to do
with Colonel B---, thought I, but boldly and independently sit down and
write the life of Joseph Sell.

This Joseph Sell, dear reader, was a fictitious personage who had just
come into my head. I had never even heard of the name; but just at that
moment it happened to come into my head; I would write an entirely
fictitious narrative, called the _Life and Adventures of Joseph Sell_,
the great traveller.

I had better begin at once, thought I; and removing the bread and the
jug, which latter was now empty, I seized pen and paper, and forthwith
essayed to write the life of Joseph Sell, but soon discovered that it is
much easier to resolve upon a thing than to achieve it, or even to
commence it; for the life of me I did not know how to begin, and, after
trying in vain to write a line, I thought it would be as well to go to
bed, and defer my projected undertaking till the morrow.

So I went to bed, but not to sleep. During the greater part of the night
I lay awake, musing upon the work which I had determined to execute. For
a long time my brain was dry and unproductive; I could form no plan which
appeared feasible. At length I felt within my brain a kindly glow; it
was the commencement of inspiration; in a few minutes I had formed my
plan; I then began to imagine the scenes and the incidents. Scenes and
incidents flitted before my mind's eye so plentifully, that I knew not
how to dispose of them; I was in a regular embarrassment. At length I
got out of the difficulty in the easiest manner imaginable, namely, by
consigning to the depths of oblivion all the feebler and less stimulant
scenes and incidents, and retaining the better and more impressive ones.
Before morning I had sketched the whole work on the tablets of my mind,
and then resigned myself to sleep in the pleasing conviction that the
most difficult part of my undertaking was achieved.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

CONSIDERABLY SOBERED--THE POWER OF WRITING--THE TEMPTER--THE HUNGRY
TALENT--WORK CONCLUDED

Rather late in the morning I awoke; for a few minutes I lay still,
perfectly still; my imagination was considerably sobered; the scenes and
situations which had pleased me so much over night appeared to me in a
far less captivating guise that morning. I felt languid and almost
hopeless--the thought, however, of my situation soon roused me. I must
make an effort to improve the posture of my affairs; there was no time