Reader，haveyoueverporeddaysandnightsoverthepagesofSnorro？-probablynot，forhewroteinalanguagewhichfewofthepresentdayunderstand，andfewwouldbetemptedtoreadhimtameddownbyLatindragomans。AbraveoldbookisthatofSnorro，containingthehistoriesandadventuresofoldnorthernkingsandchampions，whoseemedtohavebeenquitedifferentmen，ifwemayjudgefromthefeatswhichtheyperformed，fromthoseofthesedays；oneofthebestofhishistoriesisthatwhichdescribesthelifeofHaraldHaardraade，who，aftermanifoldadventuresbylandandsea，nowapirate，nowamercenaryoftheGreekemperor，becamekingofNorway，andeventuallyperishedatthebattleofStamfordBridge，whilstengagedinagallantonslaughtuponEngland。Now，I
　　haveoftenthoughtthattheoldKemp，whosemoulderingskullintheGolgothaofHythemybrotherandmyselfcouldscarcelylift，musthaveresembledinonerespectatleastthisHarald，whomSnorrodescribesasagreatandwiserulerandadeterminedleader，dangerousinbattle，offairpresenceandmeasuringinheightjustFIVEELLS，neithermorenorless。
　　IneverforgottheDaneman’sskull；liketheapparitionoftheviperinthesandylane，itdweltinthemindoftheboy，affordingcopiousfoodfortheexerciseofimagination。FromthatmomentwiththenameofDanewereassociatedstrangeideasofstrength，daring，andsuperhumanstature；andanundefinablecuriosityforallthatisconnectedwiththeDanishracebegantopervademe；andif，longafter，whenIbecameastudentIdevotedmyselfwithpeculiarzesttoDanishloreandtheacquirementoftheoldNorsetongueanditsdialects，IcanonlyexplainthematterbytheearlyimpressionreceivedatHythefromthetaleoftheoldsexton，beneaththepent-house，andthesightoftheDanishskull。
　　Andthuswewentonstrayingfromplacetoplace，atHytheto-day，andperhapswithinaweeklookingoutfromourhostel-windowuponthestreetsofoldWinchester，ourmotionseverinaccordancewiththe’route’oftheregiment，sohabituatedtochangeofscenethatithadbecomealmostnecessarytoourexistence。Pleasantwerethesedaysofmyearlyboyhood；andamelancholypleasurestealsovermeasIrecallthem。ThosewerestirringtimesofwhichIamspeaking，andtherewasmuchpassingaroundmecalculatedtocaptivatetheimagination。ThedreadfulstrugglewhichsolongconvulsedEurope，andinwhichEnglandboresoprominentapart，wasthenatitshottest；wewereatwar，anddeterminationandenthusiasmshoneineveryface；man，woman，andchildwereeagertofighttheFrank，thehereditary，but，thankGod，neverdreadedenemyoftheAnglo-Saxonrace。’LoveyourcountryandbeattheFrench，andthennevermindwhathappens，’wasthecryofentireEngland。Oh，thoseweredaysofpower，gallantdays，bustlingdays，worththebravestdaysofchivalryatleast；tallbattalionsofnativewarriorsweremarchingthroughtheland；therewastheglitterofthebayonetandthegleamofthesabre；theshrillsqueakofthefifeandloudrattlingofthedrumwereheardinthestreetsofcountrytowns，andtheloyalshoutsoftheinhabitantsgreetedthesoldieryontheirarrival，orcheeredthemattheirdeparture。Andnowletusleavetheupland，anddescendtothesea-bord；thereisasightforyouuponthebillows!Adozenmen-
　　of-warareglidingmajesticallyoutofport，theirlongbuntingsstreamingfromthetop-gallantmasts，callingontheskulkingFrenchmantocomeforthfromhisbightsandbays；andwhatloomsuponusyonderfromthefog-bankintheeast？agallantfrigatetowingbehindherthelonglowhullofacrippledprivateer，whichbutthreeshortdaysagohadleftDieppetoskimthesea，andwhosecrewofferociousheartsarenowcursingtheirimprudenceinanEnglishhold。Stirringtimesthose，whichIlovetorecall，fortheyweredaysofgallantryandenthusiasm，andweremoreoverthedaysofmyboyhood。
　　CHAPTERIII
　　PrettyD——Thevenerablechurch-Thestrickenheart-Dormantenergies-Thesmallpacket-Nerves-Thebooks-Apicture-
　　Mountain-likebillows-Thefootprint-SpiritofDeFoe-
　　Reasoningpowers-TerrorsofGod-Headsofthedragons-High-
　　Churchclerk-Ajourney-Thedrownedcountry。
　　ANDwhenIwasbetweensixandsevenyearsofagewewereoncemoreatD-，theplaceofmybirth，whithermyfatherhadbeendespatchedontherecruitingservice。Ihavealreadysaidthatitwasabeautifullittletown-atleastitwasatthetimeofwhichIamspeaking-whatitisatpresentIknownot，forthirtyyearsandmorehaveelapsedsinceIlasttroditsstreets。Itwillscarcelyhaveimproved，forhowcoulditbebetterthanitthenwas？Ilovetothinkonthee，prettyquietD-，thoupatternofanEnglishcountrytown，withthycleanbutnarrowstreetsbranchingoutfromthymodestmarket-place，withthineold-fashionedhouses，withhereandtherearoofofvenerablethatch，withthyonehalf-
　　aristocraticmansion，whereresidedthyLadyBountiful-she，thegenerousandkind，wholovedtovisitthesick，leaningonhergold-headedcane，whilstthesleekoldfootmanwalkedatarespectfuldistancebehind。PrettyquietD-，withthyvenerablechurch，inwhichmoulderthemortalremainsofEngland’ssweetestandmostpiousbard。
　　Yes，prettyD-，Icouldalwayslovethee，wereitbutforthesakeofhimwhosleepsbeneaththemarbleslabinyonderquietchancel。
　　Itwaswithintheethatthelong-oppressedbosomheaveditslastsigh，andthecrushedandgentlespiritescapedfromaworldinwhichithadknownnoughtbutsorrow。Sorrow!doIsay？Howfaintawordtoexpressthemiseryofthatbruisedreed；miserysodarkthatablindwormlikemyselfisoccasionallytemptedtoexclaim，Betterhadtheworldneverbeencreatedthanthatonesokind，soharmless，andsomild，shouldhaveundergonesuchintolerablewoe!
　　Butitisovernow，for，asthereisanendofjoy，sohasafflictionitstermination。DoubtlesstheAll-wisedidnotafflicthimwithoutacause：whoknowsbutwithinthatunhappyframelurkedviciousseedswhichthesunbeamsofjoyandprosperitymighthavecalledintolifeandvigour？Perhapsthewitheringblastsofmiserynippedthatwhichotherwisemighthaveterminatedinfruitnoxiousandlamentable。Butpeacetotheunhappyone，heisgonetohisrest；thedeath-likefaceisnolongeroccasionallyseentimidlyandmournfullylookingforamomentthroughthewindow-paneuponthymarket-place，quietandprettyD-；thehindinthyneighbourhoodnolongeratevening-fallviews，andstartsasheviews，thedarklathyfiguremovingbeneaththehazelsandaldersofshadowylanes，orbythesideofmurmuringtroutstreams，andnolongeratearlydawndoesthesextonoftheoldchurchreverentlydoffhishat，as，supportedbysomekindfriend，thedeath-strickencreaturetottersalongthechurch-pathtothatmoulderingedificewiththelowroof，inclosingaspringofsanatorywaters，builtanddevotedtosomesaint，ifthelegendoverthedoorbetrue，bythedaughterofanEastAnglianking。
　　Buttoreturntomyownhistory。Ihadnowattainedtheageofsix：shallIstatewhatintellectualprogressIhadbeenmakinguptothisperiod？Alas!uponthispointIhavelittletosaycalculatedtoaffordeitherpleasureoredification；Ihadincreasedrapidlyinsizeandinstrength：thegrowthofthemind，however，hadbynomeanscorrespondedwiththatofthebody。Itistrue，Ihadacquiredmyletters，andwasbythistimeabletoreadimperfectly；butthiswasall：andeventhispoortriumphoverabsoluteignorancewouldneverhavebeeneffectedbutfortheunremittingattentionofmyparents，who，sometimesbythreats，sometimesbyentreaties，endeavouredtorousethedormantenergiesofmynature，andtobendmywishestotheacquisitionoftherudimentsofknowledge；butininfluencingthewishlaythedifficulty。Letbutthewillofahumanbeingbeturnedtoanyparticularobject，anditistentoonethatsoonerorlaterheachievesit。AtthistimeImaysafelysaythatIharbouredneitherwishesnorhopes；Ihadasyetseennoobjectcalculatedtocallthemforth，andyetItookpleasureinmanythingswhichperhapsunfortunatelywereallwithinmysphereofenjoyment。I
　　lovedtolookupontheheavens，andtobaskintheraysofthesun，ortositbeneathhedgerowsandlistentothechirpingofthebirds，indulgingthewhileinmusingandmeditationasfarasmyverylimitedcircleofideaswouldpermit；but，unlikemybrother，whowasatthistimeatschool，andwhoserapidprogressineverybranchofinstructionastonishedanddelightedhispreceptors，I
　　tooknopleasureinbooks，whoseuse，indeed，Icouldscarcelycomprehend，andbadefairtobeasarrantadunceaseverbroughttheblushofshameintothecheeksofanxiousandaffectionateparents。
　　Butthetimewasnowathandwhentheicewhichhadhithertoboundthemindofthechildwithitsbenumbingpowerwastobethawed，andaworldofsensationsandideasawakenedtowhichithadhithertobeenanentirestranger。Onedayayounglady，anintimateacquaintanceofourfamily，andgodmothertomybrother，droveuptothehouseinwhichwedwelt；shestayedsometimeconversingwithmymother，andonrisingtodepart，sheputdownonthetableasmallpacket，exclaiming，’Ihavebroughtalittlepresentforeachoftheboys：theoneisaHistoryofEngland，whichIintendformygodsonwhenhereturnsfromschool，theotheris……’-andhereshesaidsomethingwhichescapedmyear，asI
　　satatsomedistance，mopinginacorner，-’Iintenditfortheyoungsteryonder，’pointingtomyself；shethendeparted，and，mymothergoingoutshortlyafter，Iwasleftalone。
　　Irememberforsometimesittingmotionlessinmycorner，withmyeyesbentupontheground；atlastIliftedmyheadandlookeduponthepacketasitlayonthetable。Allatonceastrangesensationcameoverme，suchasIhadneverexperiencedbefore-asingularblendingofcuriosity，awe，andpleasure，theremembranceofwhich，evenatthisdistanceoftime，producesaremarkableeffectuponmynervoussystem。Whatstrangethingsarethenerves-ImeanthosemoresecretandmysteriousonesinwhichIhavesomenotionthatthemindorsoul，callitwhichyouwill，hasitshabitation；howtheyoccasionallytingleandvibratebeforeanycomingeventcloselyconnectedwiththefuturewealorwoeofthehumanbeing。
　　Suchafeelingwasnowwithinme，certainlyindependentofwhattheeyehadseenortheearhadheard。Abookofsomedescriptionhadbeenbroughtforme，apresentbynomeanscalculatedtointerestme；whatcaredIforbooks？IhadalreadymanyintowhichIneverlookedbutfromcompulsion；friends，moreover，hadpresentedmewithsimilarthingsbefore，whichIhadentirelydisregarded，andwhatwasthereinthisparticularbook，whoseverytitleIdidnotknow，calculatedtoattractmemorethantherest？yetsomethingwithintoldmethatmyfatewasconnectedwiththebookwhichhadbeenlastbrought；so，afterlookingonthepacketfrommycornerforaconsiderabletime，Igotupandwenttothetable。
　　Thepacketwaslyingwhereithadbeenleft-Itookitup；hadtheenvelope，whichconsistedofwhitishbrownpaper，beensecuredbyastringoraseal，Ishouldnothaveopenedit，asIshouldhaveconsideredsuchanactalmostinthelightofacrime；thebooks，however，hadbeenmerelyfoldedup，andIthereforeconsideredthattherecouldbenopossibleharmininspectingthem，moreespeciallyasIhadreceivednoinjunctiontothecontrary。Perhapstherewassomethingunsoundinthisreasoning，somethingsophistical；butachildissometimesasreadyasagrown-uppersoninfindingexcusesfordoingthatwhichheisinclinedto。Butwhethertheactionwasrightorwrong，andIamafraiditwasnotaltogetherright，I
　　undidthepacket：itcontainedthreebooks；twofromtheirsimilarityseemedtobeseparatepartsofoneandthesamework；