Everything seemed to have been turned upside down, or tossed about by some miraculous and fearful power. It is supposed that the land inhabited by spirits is pleasant and enchanting, that fairies and genii seek none but the abodes of beauty, but here all was dismay. It was not strange that the majority of the villagers should have been made afraid to venture out of doors after the decline of the sun; yet notwithstanding all this, Felix had a few defenders. Though none could deny the evidences of tumult existing, these assigned quite a different cause for the fact. Make a village mad, said they, drive all the good sense out of the heads of its women and substitute fear, spread consternation amongst the children and discord amongst the men, and it would be truly miraculous if matters followed their usually peaceful routine. The brute will partake of the turbulent humors of its master, and when constantly disturbed by surrounding dismay, cannot avoid becoming infected with the general confusion. Felix, at last, began to fear the mischief he had unintentionally been creating, and sallied forth once a day with the view of allaying it. As secresy was no longer possible, he endeavored to become as sociable and communicative as circumstances would permit, but the villagers generally shunned him as though he had been a pestilence. A few only could tolerate his presence and submit to his conversations, and these had to encounter the censure of being leagued with him. An evil motive and wicked intention was now ascribed to every trifling thing he did, and all his attempts to commingle sociably with the villagers were quickly attributed to some base design. It is strange how error leads us to phrensy, but such appears to be its very nature. When once it has taken root, it spreads and increases with unaccountable rapidity. With not one half the beauty and attraction of truth and reason; it yet seems to possess a hundred times their power and influence over our conduct. Truth moves with slow and certain tread--error with fearful impetuosity. A town once set in motion the wrong way, presents a terrific spectacle, and to arrest its career of madness is a task not easily performed. It had been so in the case of Felix Deford, and he soon ascertained that it was much less difficult to create a turbulent storm than to allay it. The villagers became lavish in threats and curses against him; yet, mistrusting and doubting, their fears compelled them to act with caution. Repeated deputations were sent to him, politely requesting him to retire from the village, lest his personal safety might be endangered. His efforts to remove their delusion proved unavailing, and they continued to insist until he dismissed them, no less impatient at their importunities than they had been apprehensive of his residence amongst them.