My Library

initiate me into certain mysteries of white magic, to teach me how to construct the magic mirror in which the majority of persons could glance through space, see and talk with the dead, and in all things, save a few, have an unerring guide through life. Said he—‘I have such a curious looking-glass in yonder box, and perhaps—and perhaps not—you may test its qualities before I leave you. The fact is, I feel down-hearted, have been so all day, and all the more because I hurt your amour propré by calling you a fool, which, of course, I do not apologize for. It struck me that I would take advantage of the weather to chat with you, without infringing upon your business, and that, possibly, you might learn something and I find relief in teaching you, and thus withdraw us both for a time from the great Failure’—by which he meant the world. ‘I am weary of myself, the world, philosophers and philosophy. There’s nothing good but magic! You have been a fool while striving to be wise; and are ambitious to know what you have hitherto merely imagined.’ “He rose, took the case, laid it on the table between us, and, while playing with the key, continued—‘If you really desire to pierce through the gloom that palls the human senses, you must abandon all human loves and passions, most especially all that relates to woman; for woman’s love destroys—in the very