"'Like Teucer behind the shield of Ajax,' interrupted Dr. Melmoth, 'or
David with his stone and sling. No, no, young man; I have left
unfinished in my study a learned treatise, important not only to the
present age, but to posterity, for whose sakes I must take heed to my
safety. But lo! who rides yonder?'"

* * * * *

In one place only does the author give full rein to his tragic power;
but this is a vigorous burst, and remarkable also for its sure and
trenchant analysis. During his escape with Ellen, Butler is moved to
stop at a lonely hut inhabited by his mother, where he finds her dying;
and, torn by the sight of her suffering while she raves and yearns for
his presence, he makes himself known to her.

* * * * *

"At that unforgotten voice, the darkness burst away at once from her
soul. She arose in bed, her eyes and her whole countenance beaming with
joy, and threw her arms about his neck. A multitude of words seem
struggling for utterance; but they gave place to a low moaning sound,
and then to the silence of death. The one moment of happiness, that
recompensed years of sorrow, had been her last.... As he [Butler]
looked, the expression of enthusiastic joy that parting life had left
upon the features faded gradually away, and the countenance, though no
longer wild, assumed the sadness which it had worn through a long course
of grief and pain. On beholding this natural consequence of death, the
thought perhaps occurred to him that her soul, no longer dependent on
the imperfect means of intercourse possessed by mortals, had communed