During my absence in India, the new road across the common had been opened. By the time I reached it, the night was closed in,--a dull, starless, breezeless, dumb, sluggish, and unwholesome night; and those things which still retained in their shapes some blackness, deeper than the darkness, seemed, as I slowly passed by, to be endowed with mysterious intelligence, with which my spirit would have held communion but for dread. While I was frozen with the influence of this dreadful phantasy, I saw a pale, glimmering, ineffectual light rising before me. It was neither lamp, fire, nor candle; and though like, it was not yet flame. I took it at first for the lustre of a reflection from some unseen light, and I walked towards it, in the hope of finding a cottage or an alehouse, where I might obtain some refreshment and a little rest. I advanced,--its form enlarged, but its beam became no brighter; and the horror, which had for a moment left me when it was first discovered, returned with overwhelming power. I rushed forward, but soon halted,--for I saw that it hung in the air, and as I approached, that it began to take a ghastly and spectral form! I discerned the lineaments of a head, and the hideous outlines of a shapeless anatomy. I stood rivetted to the spot; for I thought that I saw behind it, a dark and vast thing, in whose hand it was held forth. In that moment, a voice said,--"It is Winlaw the murderer; his bones often, in the moist summer nights, shine out in this way; it is thought to be an acknowledgment of his guilt, for he died protesting his innocence."--The person who addressed me was your Honor's gamekeeper, and the story I have told, is the cause of my having desired him to bring me here. (_To be concluded in the next Supplement_.) * * * * * We have also received for notice Two Religious Annuals--the _Iris_ and _Emmanuel_; both which shall appear in our Second Supplement to be published within two or three weeks. Two Juvenile Annuals--_the Keepsake_ and _Forget-me-not_, have likewise the same claim on our attention. These works, with two or three others not yet published, will form another sheet of interesting extract. We thank the Correspondent who has forwarded to us a notice of _The Sylph_, a Musical Annual, which justice to ourselves and the public forbids us to insert, as we have not yet seen the work in question and are consequently unable to judge of the writer's criticism. Humble and unheeded as our opinions of New Works may be, we are always ready to prove that no undue influence is used in the adjudication of their merits. This has uniformly been our maxim, and our success is the best criterion of its policy. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, by Various