The hermit showed him his books. They consisted of old histories and poems. Henry turned over the leaves of these huge and beautifully illuminated works, and his curiosity was strongly excited by the short lines of the verses, the titles, some of the passages, and the beautiful pictures which appeared here and there, like embodied words, to assist the imagination of the reader. The Hermit observed his inward gratification and explained these singular pictures. All the varied scenes of life were represented among them. Battles, funereal trains, marriage ceremonies, shipwrecks, caves, and palaces, kings, heroes, priests, men in singular costume, strange beasts, were delineated in different alternations and connexions. Henry could not sate himself with gazing at them, and wished nothing more than to remain with the hermit, who irresistibly attracted him, and to be instructed by him in these books. In the mean time the old man asked whether there were any more caves; and the hermit told him, that there were some extensive ones near, to which he would accompany him. The old man was ready; and the hermit, who observed Henry's interest in the books, induced him to remain, and to examine them more closely during their absence. Henry was glad to stay where the books were, and thanked the hermit heartily for his permission to do so. He turned over their leaves with indescribable pleasure. At last a book fell into his hands, written in a foreign tongue, which appeared to him somewhat like Latin or Italian. He longed greatly to know the language, for the book pleased him greatly, though he did not understand a syllable of it. It had no title; but after a little search he found some engravings. They seemed strangely familiar to him; and on examination, he discovered his own form quite discernible among the figures. He was terrified, and thought that he must be dreaming; but after having examined them again and again, he could no longer doubt their perfect resemblance. He could hardly trust his senses, when in one of the pictures he discovered the cave, the hermit, and the old man by his side. By degrees he found among the pictures the girl from the holy land, his parents, the count and countess of Thuringia, his friend the court chaplain; and many others of his acquaintance; yet their dress was changed, and seemed to belong to another period. There were many forms he could not call by name, but which nevertheless seemed known to him. He saw the exact portraits of himself, in different situations. Towards the end he appeared larger and nobler. The guitar rested in his arms, and the countess handed him a wreath. He saw himself at the imperial court, on shipboard, now in warm embrace with a beautifully formed and lovely girl, now in battle with fierce-looking men, and again in friendly conversation with Saracens and Moors. He was frequently accompanied by a man of grave aspect. He felt a deep reverence for this august form,