As he went on I felt as if my soul were grappling with a palpable enemy; one by one the various keys were touched which formed the mechanism of my being; chord after chord was sounded, and soon my mind was filled with one thought, one conception, one purpose.
With a confusion of ideas only to be accounted for by my extreme youth and my want of a guide on such matters, I had retrod the steps of knowledge along the paths of time and exchanged the discoveries of recent enquirers for the dreams of forgotten alchemists.
Chance -- or rather the evil influence, the Angel of Destruction, which asserted omnipotent sway over me from the moment I turned my reluctant steps from my father's door -- led me first to M. Krempe, professor of natural philosophy.
He said little, but when he spoke I read in his kindling eye and in his animated glance a restrained but firm resolve not to be chained to the miserable details of commerce.
She attended her sickbed; her watchful attentions triumphed over the malignity of the distemper -- Elizabeth was saved, but the consequences of this imprudence were fatal to her preserver.
Destiny was too potent, and her immutable laws had decreed my utter and terrible destruction.
When I was about fifteen years old we had retired to our house near Belrive, when we witnessed a most violent and terrible thunderstorm.
The untaught peasant beheld the elements around him and was acquainted with their practical uses. The most learned philosopher knew little more.
