“It seems so to mingle with all I ever think on this question, that I should much like, if you gentlemen would allow me, to read some extracts from it.” Nothing could have been heartier than the assurance of both the men that they could but be delighted to listen to anything he chose to give them. “I must first tell you, however,” said Polwarth, “merely to protect you from certain disturbing speculations, otherwise sure to present themselves, that my poor brother was mad, and that what I now read portions of seemed to him no play of the imagination, but a record of absolute fact. Some parts are stranger and less intelligible than others, but through it all there is abundance of intellectual movement, and what seems to me a wonderful keenness to perceive the movements and arrest the indications of an imagined consciousness.” As he spoke, the little man was opening a cabinet in which he kept his precious things. He brought from it a good-sized quarto volume, neatly bound in morocco, with gilt edges, which he seemed to handle not merely with respect but with tenderness. The heading of the next chapter is my own, and does not belong to the manuscript. CHAPTER X. PASSAGES FROM THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE WANDERING JEW. “‘I have at length been ill, very ill, once more, and for many reasons foreign to the weightiest, which I had forgotten, I had hoped that I was going to die. But therein I am as usual deceived and disappointed. That I have been out of my mind I know, by having returned to the real knowledge of what I am. The conscious present has again fallen together and made a whole with the past, and that whole is my personal identity. “‘How I broke loose from the bonds of a madness, which, after so many and heavy years of uninterrupted sanity, had at length laid hold upon me, I will now relate.