The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1867-12-27

our friend Sarah Clarke-soenss in Ken.
lucky.
From the picture gallery went to the read
ing-rOom of the Athen@um, and there read
the magazines till nearly twelve, thence to the
Custom House, and soon afterwards to dinner
with Colonel Hall, then back to the Custom
House, but only for little while. There was
nothing in the world to do, and So at
O'Clock, / came home aud lay down. with the
"Faery Queene" in my hand
August 2l.-Last night l slept with a child
OF five years old, and had no dreams at all
unless Just before it was time to rise, and
have forgotten what those dreams were. After
was fairly awake this morning felt very
bright and airy, and was glad that had been
compelled to snatch two additional hours of
existence from annihiation. The SUMS disc
was but half above the oceans verge when
assembled the ships side. These early morning
hours are very lightsome and quiet. Almost the
whole day have been in the shade, reclining on
apile of sails, so that the life and spirit are
not entirely worn out of me. The wind
has been east this ahernoOn--perhaps in the
forenoon too-and / could not help feeling
refreshed when the gentle chill of its breath
stole over my cheek. l would fain abominate
the east wind, but it persists in doing
me kindly offices now and then. What per-
verse wind it is Its refreshment is but
another mode of torment.
Salem, October 4.-Union Street (Family
Mansion). Here | sit, in my old
accustomed chamber where l used to sit in
days gone by. Here l have written
many tales-many that have been burned
to ashes, many that doubtless deserved the
same fate. This claims to be called haunted
chamber, for thousands upon thousands Of
visions have appeared to me in it, and some
few of them have become visible to the world.
If ever l should have a bographer, he ought
to make great mention of this chamber in my
memoirs, because so much of my lonely youth
was wasted here, and here my mind and char
acter were formed, and here have been glad
and hopeful, and here | have been desp pondent.
And here sat long, long time, waiting
patiently for the world to know me, and some-
times wondering why it did not knew me
sooner, or whether it would ever know me at
all-at least, till l were in my grave. And
sometimes it seemed as if | were already in
the grave, with only life enough to be chilled
and benumbed. But oftener l was happy-at
least as happy as l then knew how to be- or
was aware of the possibility of being. By
and-by the world found me out in my lonely
chamber, and called me forth-not, indeed,
with loud roar of acclamation, but rather
with a still, small voice. and forth went, but
found nothing in the world that l thought
preferable to my old old solitude till nov.
:. And now begin to understand why l
was imprisoned so many years in this lonely
chamber, and why could never break through
the viewless bolts and bars for if l had
sooner made my escape into the world,
should have grown hard and rough, and been
covered with earthly dust, and my heart might
have become callous by rude encounters with
the multitude. But living in solitude
till the fulness of time was come, l still kept
the dew of my youth and the freshness of my
heart. :. used to think that l could
imagine all passions, all feelings and states of
the heart and mind but how little did know
.... Indeed, we are but shadows-we are
not endowed with real life, and all that seems
most real about us is but the thinnest sub
stance of dream-till the heart be touched
That touch creates us-then we begin to be-
thereby we are beings of reality and inheritors
of eternity.-AHantic NonhIyfor January.