whose soul is filled with you--a woman in whom your eloquence has
awakened, amidst frivolous and vain circles, the sense of a new
existence--a woman who would make you, yourself, the embodied ideal of
your own thoughts and dreams, and who would ask from earth no other lot
than that of following you on the road of fame with the eyes of her
heart. Mistake me not; I repeat that I have never seen you, nor do I
wish it; you might be other than I imagine, and I should lose an idol,
and be left without a worship. I am a kind of visionary Rosicrucian: it
is a spirit that I adore, and not a being like myself. You imagine,
perhaps, that I have some purpose to serve in this--I have no object in
administering to your vanity; and if I judge you rightly, this letter is
one that might make you vain without a blush. Oh, the admiration that
does not spring from holy and profound sources of emotion--how it
saddens us or disgusts! I have had my share of vulgar homage, and it
only makes me feel doubly alone. I am richer than you are--I have
youth--I have what they call beauty. And neither riches, youth, nor
beauty ever gave me the silent and deep happiness I experience when I
think of you. This is a worship that might, I repeat, well make even
you vain. Think of these words, I implore you. Be worthy, not of my
thoughts, but of the shape in which they represent you: and every ray of
glory that surrounds you will brighten my own way, and inspire me with a
kindred emulation. Farewell.--I may write to you again, but you will
never discover me; and in life I pray that we may never meet!"



CHAPTER V.

"Our list of nobles next let Amri grace."
/Absalom and Achitophel.