They were fearfully- they were
inconceivably hideous; but out of Evil proceeded Good; for their
very excess wrought in my spirit an inevitable revulsion. My soul
acquired tone- acquired temper. I went abroad. I took vigorous
exercise. I breathed the free air of Heaven. I thought upon other
subjects than Death. I discarded my medical books. "Buchan" I
burned. I read no "Night Thoughts"- no fustian about churchyards- no
bugaboo tales- such as this. In short, I became a new man, and lived a
man's life. From that memorable night, I dismissed forever my
charnel apprehensions, and with them vanished the cataleptic disorder,
of which, perhaps, they had been less the consequence than the cause.
There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world
of our sad Humanity may assume the semblance of a Hell- but the
imagination of man is no Carathis, to explore with impunity its
every cavern. Alas! the grim legion of sepulchral terrors cannot be
regarded as altogether fanciful- but, like the Demons in whose company
Afrasiab made his voyage down the Oxus, they must sleep, or they
will devour us- they must be suffered to slumber, or we perish.
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