No More Learning

Yet when I described the monster (which
I distinctly saw, and calmly surveyed through the whole period of
its progress), my readers, I fear, will feel more difficulty in being
convinced of these points than even I did myself.

Estimating the size of the creature by comparison with the diameter of
the large trees near which it passed--the few giants of the forest which
had escaped the fury of the land-slide--I concluded it to be far larger
than any ship of the line in existence. I say ship of the line, because
the shape of the monster suggested the idea--the hull of one of our
seventy-four might convey a very tolerable conception of the general
outline. The mouth of the animal was situated at the extremity of a
proboscis some sixty or seventy feet in length, and about as thick as
the body of an ordinary elephant. Near the root of this trunk was
an immense quantity of black shaggy hair--more than could have been
supplied by the coats of a score of buffaloes; and projecting from this
hair downwardly and laterally, sprang two gleaming tusks not unlike
those of the wild boar, but of infinitely greater dimensions. Extending
forward, parallel with the proboscis, and on each side of it, was a
gigantic staff, thirty or forty feet in length, formed seemingly of pure
crystal and in shape a perfect prism,--it reflected in the most gorgeous
manner the rays of the declining sun. The trunk was fashioned like a
wedge with the apex to the earth. From it there were outspread two pairs
of wings--each wing nearly one hundred yards in length--one pair being
placed above the other, and all thickly covered with metal scales; each
scale apparently some ten or twelve feet in diameter. I observed that
the upper and lower tiers of wings were connected by a strong chain. But
the chief peculiarity of this horrible thing was the representation of a
Death's Head, which covered nearly the whole surface of its breast, and
which was as accurately traced in glaring white, upon the dark ground of
the body, as if it had been there carefully designed by an artist. While
I regarded the terrific animal, and more especially the appearance
on its breast, with a feeling or horror and awe--with a sentiment of
forthcoming evil, which I found it impossible to quell by any effort of
the reason, I perceived the huge jaws at the extremity of the proboscis
suddenly expand themselves, and from them there proceeded a sound so
loud and so expressive of wo, that it struck upon my nerves like a knell
and as the monster disappeared at the foot of the hill, I fell at once,
fainting, to the floor.

Upon recovering, my first impulse, of course, was to inform my friend
of what I had seen and heard--and I can scarcely explain what feeling of
repugnance it was which, in the end, operated to prevent me.

At length, one evening, some three or four days after the occurrence, we
were sitting together in the room in which I had seen the apparition--I
occupying the same seat at the same window, and he lounging on a sofa
near at hand. The association of the place and time impelled me to
give him an account of the phenomenon. He heard me to the end--at first
laughed heartily--and then lapsed into an excessively grave demeanor, as
if my insanity was a thing beyond suspicion.
At this instant I again
had a distinct view of the monster--to which, with a shout of absolute
terror, I now directed his attention. He looked eagerly--but maintained
that he saw nothing--although I designated minutely the course of the
creature, as it made its way down the naked face of the hill.

I was now immeasurably alarmed, for I considered the vision either as an
omen of my death, or, worse, as the fore-runner of an attack of mania. I
threw myself passionately back in my chair, and for some moments buried
my face in my hands. When I uncovered my eyes, the apparition was no
longer apparent.

My host, however, had in some degree resumed the calmness of his
demeanor, and questioned me very rigorously in respect to the
conformation of the visionary creature. When I had fully satisfied
him on this head, he sighed deeply, as if relieved of some intolerable
burden, and went on to talk, with what I thought a cruel calmness, of
various points of speculative philosophy, which had heretofore formed
subject of discussion between us. I remember his insisting very
especially (among other things) upon the idea that the principle
source of error in all human investigations lay in the liability of
the understanding to under-rate or to over-value the importance of an
object, through mere mis-admeasurement of its propinquity. "To estimate
properly, for example," he said, "the influence to be exercised on
mankind at large by the thorough diffusion of Democracy, the distance
of the epoch at which such diffusion may possibly be accomplished should
not fail to form an item in the estimate. Yet can you tell me one writer
on the subject of government who has ever thought this particular branch
of the subject worthy of discussion at all? "

He here paused for a moment, stepped to a book-case, and brought forth
one of the ordinary synopses of Natural History. Requesting me then to
exchange seats with him, that he might the better distinguish the fine
print of the volume, he took my armchair at the window, and, opening the
book, resumed his discourse very much in the same tone as before.

"But for your exceeding minuteness," he said, "in describing the
monster, I might never have had it in my power to demonstrate to you
what it was. In the first place, let me read to you a schoolboy
account of the genus Sphinx, of the family Crepuscularia of the order
Lepidoptera, of the class of Insecta--or insects. The account runs thus:

"'Four membranous wings covered with little colored scales of metallic
appearance; mouth forming a rolled proboscis, produced by an elongation
of the jaws, upon the sides of which are found the rudiments of
mandibles and downy palpi; the inferior wings retained to the superior
by a stiff hair; antennae in the form of an elongated club, prismatic;
abdomen pointed, The Death's--headed Sphinx has occasioned much terror
among the vulgar, at times, by the melancholy kind of cry which it
utters, and the insignia of death which it wears upon its corslet. '"

He here closed the book and leaned forward in the chair, placing
himself accurately in the position which I had occupied at the moment of
beholding "the monster.