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a philosopher； and he might have indulged in the reflection； that
though the ancient Greeks and Romans were savages （as Dr。 Johnson
says all people who want a press must be； and he says truly）； yet
they were wonderful savages for their time； for they alone have
left traces of their taste for pleasure in the countries they
conquered； in their superb theaters； temples （which were also
dedicated to pleasure one way or another）； and baths； while other
conquering bands of savages never left anything behind them but
traces of their rage for power。 So thought Stanton； as he still
saw strongly defined； though darkened by the darkening clouds； the
huge skeleton of a Roman amphitheater； its arched and gigantic
colonnades now admitting a gleam of light； and now commingling with
the purple thunder cloud； and now the solid and heavy mass of a
Moorish fortress； no light playing between its impermeable walls；
the image of power； dark； isolated； impenetrable。 Stanton forgot
his cowardly guide； his loneliness； his danger amid an approaching
storm and an inhospitable country； where his name and country would
shut every door against him； and every peal of thunder would be
supposed justified by the daring intrusion of a heretic in the
dwelling of an old Christian； as the Spanish Catholics absurdly
term themselves； to mark the distinction between them and the
baptized Moors。
All this was forgot in contemplating the glorious and awful scenery
before him；light struggling with darkness；and darkness menacing
a light still more terrible； and announcing its menace in the blue
and livid mass of cloud that hovered like a destroying angel in the
air； its arrows aimed； but their direction awfully indefinite。 But
he ceased to forget these local and petty dangers； as the sublimity
of romance would term them； when he saw the first flash of the
lightning； broad and red as the banners of an insulting army whose
motto is Vae victis； shatter to atoms the remains of a Roman
tower；the rifted stones rolled down the hill； and fell at the
feet of Stanton。 He stood appalled； and； awaiting his summons from
the Power in whose eye pyramids； palaces； and the worms whose toil
has formed them； and the worms who toil out their existence under
their shadow or their pressure； are perhaps all alike contemptible；
he stood collected； and for a moment felt that defiance of danger
which danger itself excites； and we love to encounter it as a
physical enemy； to bid it 〃do its worst；〃 and feel that its worst
will perhaps be ultimately its best for us。 He stood and saw
another flash dart its bright； brief； and malignant glance over the
ruins of ancient power； and the luxuriance of recent fertility。
Singular contrast！ The relics of art forever decaying；the
productions of nature forever renewed。（Alas！ for what purpose are
they renewed； better than to mock at the perishable monuments which
men try in vain to rival them by。） The pyramids themselves must
perish； but the grass that grows between their disjointed stones
will be renewed from year to year。
Stanton was thinking thus； when all power of thought was suspended；
by seeing two persons bearing between them the body of a young； and
apparently very lovely girl； who had been struck dead by the
lightning。 Stanton approached； and heard the voices of the bearers
repeating； 〃There is none who will mourn for her！〃 〃There is none
who will mourn for her！〃 said other voices； as two more bore in
their arms the blasted and blackened figure of what had once been a
man； comely and graceful；〃there is not ONE to mourn for her now！〃
They were lovers； and he had been consumed by the flash that had
destroyed her； while in the act of endeavoring to defend her。 As
they were about to remove the bodies； a person approached with a
calmness of step and demeanor； as if he were alone unconscious of
danger； and incapable of fear； and after looking on them for some
time； burst into a laugh so loud； wild； and protracted； that the
peasants； starting with as much horror at the sound as at that of
the storm； hurried away； bearing the corpses with them。 Even
Stanton's fears were subdued by his astonishment； and； turning to
the stranger； who remained standing on the same spot； he asked the
reason of such an outrage on humanity。 The stranger； slowly
turning round； and disclosing a countenance which（Here the
manuscript was illegible for a few lines）； said in English（A long
hiatus followed here； and the next passage that was legible； though
it proved to be a continuation of the narrative； was but a
fragment。）
。 。 。 。 。
The terrors of the night rendered Stanton a sturdy and unappeasable
applicant； and the shrill voice of the old woman； repeating； 〃no
hereticno EnglishMother of God protect usavaunt Satan！〃
combined with the clatter of the wooden casement （peculiar to the
houses in Valencia） which she opened to discharge her volley of
anathematization； and shut again as the lightning glanced through
the aperture； were unable to repel his importunate request for
admittance； in a night whose terrors ought to soften all the
miserable petty local passions into one awful feeling of fear for
the Power who caused it； and compassion for those who were exposed
to it。But Stanton felt there was something more than national
bigotry in the exclamations of the old woman； there was a peculiar
and personal horror of the English。And he was right； but this did
not diminish the eagerness of his。 。 。 。
。 。 。 。 。
The house was handsome and spacious； but the melancholy appearance
of desertion 。 。 。 。
。 。 。 。 。
The benches were by the wall； but there were none to sit there；
the tables were spread in what had been the hall； but it seemed as
if none had gathered round them for many years；the clock struck
audibly； there was no voice of mirth or of occupation to drown its
sound； time told his awful lesson to silence alone；the hearths
were black with fuel long since consumed；the family portraits
looked as if they were the only tenants of the mansion； they seemed
to say； from their moldering frames； 〃there are none to gaze on
us；〃 and the echo of the steps of Stanton and his feeble guide； was
the only sound audible between the peals of thunder that rolled
still awfully； but more distantly；every peal like the exhausted
murmurs of a spent heart。 As they passed on； a shriek was heard。
Stanton paused； and fearful images of the dangers to which
travelers on the Continent are exposed in deserted and remote
habitations； came into his mind。 〃Don't heed it；〃 said the old
woman； lighting him on with a miserable lamp；〃it is only he。 。 。 。
。 。 。 。 。
The old woman having now satisfied herself； by ocular
demonstration； that her English guest； even if he was the devil；
had neither horn； hoof； nor tail； th