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loudly upon the ear, then sinking gently away with the retiring breeze, and

then again returning with added sweetness. I listened with delight to their

melody, till their softness seemed to increase; the sounds became gradually

fainter and fainter; the landscape faded from my sight; a soft languor crept

over me: in short, I slept.

It would be of no use to go to sleep without dreaming; and, accordingly, I had

scarcely closed my eyes when, methought, a spirit stood before me. His head

was crowned with flowers; his azure wings fluttered in the breeze, and a light

drapery, like the fleecy vapour that hangs upon the summit of a mountain,

floated round him. In his hand he held a scroll, and his voice sounded soft and

sweet as the liquid melody of the nightingale.

"Take this," said he, smiling benignantly; "it is the Chronicle of a future age.

Weave it into a story. It will so far gratify your wishes, as to give you a hero

totally different from any hero that ever appeared before. You hesitate,"

continued he, again smiling, and regarding me earnestly: "I read your

thoughts, and see you fear to sketch the scenes of which you are to write,

because you imagine they must be different from those with which you are

acquainted. This is a natural distrust: the scenes will indeed be different from

those you now behold; the whole face of society will be changed: new

governments will have arisen; strange discoveries will be made, and stranger

modes of life adopted. The restless curiosity and research of man will then

have enabled him to lift the veil from much which is (to him at least) at

present a mystery; and his powers (both as regards mechanical agency and

intellectual knowledge) will be greatly enlarged. But even then, in his

plenitude of acquirement, he will be made conscious of the infirmity of his

nature, and will be guilty of many absurdities which, in his less enlightened

state, he would feel ashamed to commit.

"To no one but yourself has this vision been revealed: do not fear to behold it.

Though strange, it may be fully understood, for much will still remain to

connect that future age with the present. The impulses and feelings of human

creatures must, for the most part, be alike in all ages: habits vary, but nature

endures; and the same passions were delineated, the same weaknesses

ridiculed, by Aristophanes, Plautus, and Terence, as in after-times were

described by Shakspeare and Moliere; and as they will be in the times of

which you are to write,—by authors yet unknown.

"But you still hesitate; you object that the novelty of the allusions perplexes

you. This is quite a new kind of delicacy; as authors seldom trouble

themselves to become acquainted with a subject before they begin to write

upon it. However, since you are so very scrupulous, I will endeavour, if

possible, to assist you. Look around."