to journey through. It was during such moments of clairvoyance that I
had a vision of the infinity of which before my present life I was a
part. Then, in spite of myself, my consciousness flagged, and for days
together I lived the tranquil, subconscious life of early childhood.

At first my mind, altogether unimpressed and undeveloped, may be
compared to a photographer's apparatus fitted with its sensitized glass.
Objects insufficiently lighted up make no impression upon the virgin
plates; but when a vivid splendor falls upon them, and when they
are encircled by disks of light, these once dim objects now engrave
themselves upon the glass. My first recollections are of bright summer
days and sparkling noon times,--or more truly, are recollections of the
light of wood fires burning with great ruddy flames.



CHAPTER II.



As if it were yesterday I recall the evening when I suddenly discovered
that I could run and jump; and I remember that I was intoxicated by the
delicious sensation almost to the point of falling.

This must have been at about the commencement of my second winter. At
the sad hour of twilight I was in the dining-room of my parents' house,
which room had always seemed a very vast one to me. At first, I was
quiet, made so, no doubt, by the influence of the environing darkness,
for the lamp was not yet lighted. But as the hour for dinner approached,
a maid-servant came in and threw an armful of small wood into the