put down on the table a small packet, exclaiming, 'I have brought a
little present for each of the boys: the one is a History of England,
which I intend for my godson when he returns from school, the other is .
. .'--and here she said something which escaped my ear, as I sat at some
distance, moping in a corner,--'I intend it for the youngster yonder,'
pointing to myself; she then departed, and, my mother going out shortly
after, I was left alone.

I remember for some time sitting motionless in my corner, with my eyes
bent upon the ground; at last I lifted my head and looked upon the packet
as it lay on the table. All at once a strange sensation came over me,
such as I had never experienced before--a singular blending of curiosity,
awe, and pleasure, the remembrance of which, even at this distance of
time, produces a remarkable effect upon my nervous system. What strange
things are the nerves--I mean those more secret and mysterious ones in
which I have some notion that the mind or soul, call it which you will,
has its habitation; how they occasionally tingle and vibrate before any
coming event closely connected with the future weal or woe of the human
being. Such a feeling was now within me, certainly independent of what
the eye had seen or the ear had heard. A book of some description had
been brought for me, a present by no means calculated to interest me;
what cared I for books? I had already many into which I never looked but
from compulsion; friends, moreover, had presented me with similar things
before, which I had entirely disregarded, and what was there in this
particular book, whose very title I did not know, calculated to attract
me more than the rest? yet something within told me that my fate was
connected with the book which had been last brought; so, after looking on
the packet from my corner for a considerable time, I got up and went to
the table.