It was clear
      that we were already within the influence of the comet; yet we
      lived. We even felt an unusual elasticity of frame and vivacity
      of mind. The exceeding tenuity of the object of our dread was
      apparent; for all heavenly objects were plainly visible through
      it. Meantime, our vegetation had perceptibly altered; and we
      gained faith, from this predicted circumstance, in the foresight
      of the wise. A wild luxuriance of foliage, utterly unknown
      before, burst out upon every vegetable thing. Yet another day—and the evil was not altogether upon us. It was
      now evident that its nucleus would first reach us. A wild change
      had come over all men; and the first sense of pain was the wild
      signal for general lamentation and horror. This first sense of
      pain lay in a rigorous constriction of the breast and lungs, and
      an insufferable dryness of the skin. It could not be denied that
      our atmosphere was radically affected; the conformation of this
      atmosphere and the possible modifications to which it might be
      subjected, were now the topics of discussion. The result of
      investigation sent an electric thrill of the intensest terror
      through the universal heart of man. It had been long known that the air which encircled us was a
      compound of oxygen and nitrogen gases, in the proportion of
      twenty-one measures of oxygen, and seventy-nine of nitrogen in
      every one hundred of the atmosphere. Oxygen, which was the
      principle of combustion, and the vehicle of heat, was absolutely
      necessary to the support of animal life, and was the most
      powerful and energetic agent in nature. Nitrogen, on the
      contrary, was incapable of supporting either animal life or
      flame. An unnatural excess of oxygen would result, it had been
      ascertained in just such an elevation of the animal spirits as we
      had latterly experienced. It was the pursuit, the extension of
      the idea, which had engendered awe. What would be the result of a
      total extraction of the nitrogen? A combustion irresistible,
      all-devouring, omni-prevalent, immediate;—the entire fulfilment,
      in all their minute and terrible details, of the fiery and
      horror-inspiring denunciations of the prophecies of the Holy
      Book. Why need I paint, Charmion, the now disenchained frenzy of
      mankind? That tenuity in the comet which had previously inspired
      us with hope, was now the source of the bitterness of despair. In
      its impalpable gaseous character we clearly perceived the
      consummation of Fate. Meantime a day again passed—bearing away
      with it the last shadow of Hope. We gasped in the rapid
      modification of the air. The red blood bounded tumultuously
      through its strict channels. A furious delirium possessed all
      men; and, with arms rigidly outstretched towards the threatening
      heavens, they trembled and shrieked aloud. But the nucleus of the
      destroyer was now upon us; even here in Aidenn, I shudder while I
      speak. Let me be brief—brief as the ruin that overwhelmed. For a
      moment there was a wild lurid light alone, visiting and
      penetrating all things. Then—let us bow down, Charmion, before
      the excessive majesty of the great God!—then, there came a
      shouting and pervading sound, as if from the mouth itself of HIM;
      while the whole incumbent mass of ether in which we existed,
      burst at once into a species of intense flame, for whose
      surpassing brilliancy and all-fervid heat even the angels in the
      high Heaven of pure knowledge have no name. Thus ended all. SHADOW—A PARABLE


Yea, though I walk through the valley of the _Shadow._
                    —_Psalm of David_. Ye who read are still among the living; but I who write shall
      have long since gone my way into the region of shadows. For
      indeed strange things shall happen, and secret things be known,
      and many centuries shall pass away, ere these memorials be seen
      of men. And, when seen, there will be some to disbelieve, and
      some to doubt, and yet a few who will find much to ponder upon in
      the characters here graven with a stylus of iron. The year had been a year of terror, and of feelings more intense
      than terror for which there is no name upon the earth. For many
      prodigies and signs had taken place, and far and wide, over sea
      and land, the black wings of the Pestilence were spread abroad. To those, nevertheless, cunning in the stars, it was not unknown
      that the heavens wore an aspect of ill; and to me, the Greek
      Oinos, among others, it was evident that now had arrived the
      alternation of that seven hundred and ninety-fourth year when, at
      the entrance of Aries, the planet Jupiter is conjoined with the
      red ring of the terrible Saturnus. The peculiar spirit of the
      skies, if I mistake not greatly, made itself manifest, not only
      in the physical orb of the earth, but in the souls, imaginations,
      and meditations of mankind. Over some flasks of the red Chian wine, within the walls of a
      noble hall, in a dim city called Ptolemais, we sat, at night, a
      company of seven. And to our chamber there was no entrance save
      by a lofty door of brass: and the door was fashioned by the
      artisan Corinnos, and, being of rare workmanship, was fastened
      from within. Black draperies, likewise, in the gloomy room, shut
      out from our view the moon, the lurid stars, and the peopleless
      streets—but the boding and the memory of Evil, they would not be
      so excluded. There were things around us and about of which I can
      render no distinct account—things material and
      spiritual—heaviness in the atmosphere—a sense of
      suffocation—anxiety—and, above all, that terrible state of
      existence which the nervous experience when the senses are keenly
      living and awake, and meanwhile the powers of thought lie
      dormant. A dead weight hung upon us. It hung upon our limbs—upon
      the household furniture—upon the goblets from which we drank; and
      all things were depressed, and borne down thereby—all things save
      only the flames of the seven lamps which illumined our revel. Uprearing themselves in tall slender lines of light, they thus
      remained burning all pallid and motionless; and in the mirror
      which their lustre formed upon the round table of ebony at which
      we sat, each of us there assembled beheld the pallor of his own
      countenance, and the unquiet glare in the downcast eyes of his
      companions. Yet we laughed and were merry in our proper way—which
      was hysterical; and sang the songs of Anacreon—which are madness;
      and drank deeply—although the purple wine reminded us of blood.