degree of satiety, and I began, by degrees, to seek in histories, memoirs,
voyages and travels, and the like, events nearly as wonderful as those which
were the work of imagination, with the additional advantage that they were at
least in a great measure true. The lapse of nearly two years, during which I was
left to the exercise of my own free will, was followed by a temporary residence
in the country, where I was again very lonely but for the amusement which I
derived from a good though old-fashioned library. The vague and wild use which I
made of this advantage I cannot describe better than by referring my reader to
the desultory studies of Waverley in a similar situation; the passages
concerning whose course of reading were imitated from recollections of my own. -
It must be understood that the resemblance extends no farther.
    Time, as it glided on, brought the blessings of confirmed health and
personal strength, to a degree which had never been expected or hoped for. The
severe studies necessary to render me fit for my profession occupied the greater
part of my time; and the society of my friends and companions who were about to
enter life along with me, filled up the interval with the usual amusements of
young men. I was in a situation which rendered serious labour indispensable;
for, neither possessing, on the one hand, any of those peculiar advantages which
are supposed to favour a hasty advance in the profession of the law, nor being,
on the other hand, exposed to unusual obstacles to interrupt my progress, I
might reasonably expect to succeed according to the greater or less degree of
trouble which I should take to qualify myself as a pleader.
    It makes no part of the present story to detail how the success of a few
ballads had the effect of changing all the purpose and tenor of my life, and of
converting a painstaking lawyer of some years' standing into a follower of
literature. It is enough to say, that I had assumed the latter character for
several years before I seriously thought of attempting a work of imagination in
prose, although one or two of my poetical attempts did not differ from romances
otherwise than by being written in verse. But yet, I may observe, that about
this time (now, alas! thirty years since) I had nourished the ambitious desire
of composing a tale of chivalry, which was to be in the style of the Castle of
Otranto, with plenty of Border characters, and supernatural incident. Having
found unexpectedly a chapter of this intended work among some old papers, I have
subjoined it to