The monastery; The abbot.

THE MONASTERY. 93
The astonishment of IIalbert began once more to give way to his rasolution, and he gained voice enough to say, though with a faltering accent,
"In the name of God, what art thou?" The answer was in melody of a
different tone and measure:"What I am I must not show- While o'er our frozen minds they pass,
What I am thou couldst not know — Like shadows from the nilrror'd glass.
Something hetwixt heaven and hell- Wayward, fickle is our mood,
Sornetling that neither stood nor fell- Hovering betwixt bad and good,
Something that through thy wit or will Happier than brief-dated man,
May work thee good —may work thee ill. Living twenty times his span;
Neilher substance quite nor shadow, Far less happy, for-we have
Haunling lonely meoor andl meadow, H-elp nor hope beyond the grave!
Dancisng by the haunted spring, Man awakes to joy or sorrow;
Riding on the whirlwind's wing; Ours the sleep that knows no morrow.
Aping in fantastic fashion This is all that I can showEvery change of human passion, This is all that thou mayest know."
The White Lady paused, and' appeared to await an answer; but, as Halbert hesitated how to frame his speech, the vision seemed gradually to fade,
and became more and more incorporeal. Justly guessing this to be a
symptom of her disappearance, Halbert compelled himself to say, " Lady,
when I saw you in the glen, and when you brought back the black book of
Mary Avenel, thou didst say I should one day learn to read it."
The White Lady replied,
"Ay! and I taught thee the word and the spell,
To waken me here by the Fairies' Well,
But thou hast loved the heron and hawk,
More than to seek my haunted walk;
And thou hast loved the lance and the sword,
More than good text and holy word;
And thou hast loved the deer to track,
More than the lines and the letters black;
And thou art a ranger of moss and of wood,
And scornest the nurture of gentle blood."
"I will do so no longer, fair maiden," said Halbert; "I desire to learn;
and thou didst promise me, that when I did so desire, thou wouldst be my
helper; I am no longer afraid of thy presence, and I am no longer regardless of instruction." As he uttered these words, the figure of the White
Maiden grew gradually as distinct as it had been at first; and what had
well-nigh faded into an ill-defined and colourless shadow, again assumed an
appearance at least of corporeal consistency, although the hues were less
ivvid, and the outline of the figure less distinct and defined —so at least it
seemed to Halbert-than those of an ordinary inhabitant of earth. "Wilt
thou grant my request," he said, " fair Lady, and give to my keeping the
holy book which Mary of Avenel has so often wept for?
The White Lady replied:
"Thy craven fear my truth accused, There is a star for thee which burn'd.
Thine idlehood my trust abused; Its influence wanes, its course is turn'd;
He that draws to harbour late, Valour and constancy alone
iMust sleep without, or burst the gate. Can bring thee back the chance that's flown."
"If I have been a loiterer, Lady," answered young Glendinning, "thou
shalt now find me willing to press forward with double speed. Other
thoughts have filled my mind, other thoughts have engaged my heart,
within a brief period-and by Heaven, other occupations shall. henceforward fill up my time. I have lived in this day the space of years - I came
hither a boy- I will return a man -a man, such as may converse not only
with his own kind, but with whatever God permits to be visible to him. I
will learn the contents of that mysterious volume - I will learn why the
Lady of Avenel loved it - why the priests feared, and would have stolen it -
why thou didst twice recover it from their hands. —What mystery is wrapt
in it? - Speak, I conjure thee!" The lady assumed an air peculiarly sad
and solemn, as drooping her head, and folding her arms on her bosom, she
replied:
" Within that awful volume lies To read, to fear, to hope, to pray,
The mystery of mysteries! To lift the latch, and force the way;
Halppiest they of human race, And better had they ne'er been born,
To whom God has granted grace Who read to doubt, or read to scorn."