a spire to the building. A vague misgiving crossed my mind when
I saw it; but I must needs go closer, and look through a little
half-open door, near the opposite end from the cypress. Window I
saw none. On peeping in, and looking towards the further end, I
saw a lamp burning, with a dim, reddish flame, and the head of a
woman, bent downwards, as if reading by its light. I could see
nothing more for a few moments. At length, as my eyes got used
to the dimness of the place, I saw that the part of the rude
building near me was used for household purposes; for several
rough utensils lay here and there, and a bed stood in the corner.

An irresistible attraction caused me to enter. The woman never
raised her face, the upper part of which alone I could see
distinctly; but, as soon as I stepped within the threshold, she
began to read aloud, in a low and not altogether unpleasing
voice, from an ancient little volume which she held open with one
hand on the table upon which stood the lamp. What she read was
something like this:

"So, then, as darkness had no beginning, neither will it ever
have an end. So, then, is it eternal. The negation of aught
else, is its affirmation. Where the light cannot come, there
abideth the darkness. The light doth but hollow a mine out of
the infinite extension of the darkness. And ever upon the steps
of the light treadeth the darkness; yea, springeth in fountains
and wells amidst it, from the secret channels of its mighty sea.
Truly, man is but a passing flame, moving unquietly amid the
surrounding rest of night; without which he yet could not be, and
whereof he is in part compounded."