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incurable, universal disgust:—call it what you please, sleep, rest, or death; termination is all I seek."
"And is there, Elinor, no other name for what follows our earthly dissolution?" cried Harleigh, with a shuddering frown. "What say you if we call it immortality?"
"Will you preach to me?" cried she, her eyes darting fire; "will you bid me look forward to yet another life, when this, short as it is deemed, I find insupportable? Ah, Harleigh! Harleigh!" her eyes suffusing with sudden tenderness; "were I your's—I might wish indeed to be immortal!"
Harleigh was extremely affected: he approached her, took her hand, and soothingly said, "My dear Elinor, compose your spirits, exert your strength of mind, and suffer us to discuss these subjects at some length."
"No, Harleigh; I must not trust myself to your fascinations! How do I know but they might bewitch me out of my
