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Unseen； both when we wake and when we sleep。'
〃'How often；' says Father Adam； 'from the steep of echoing hill or
thicket； have we heard celestial voices to the midnight air； sole；
or responsive to each other's notes； singing！' After the Act of
Disobedience； when the erring pair from Eden took their solitary
way； and went forth to toil and trouble on common earththough the
Glorious Ones no longer were visible； you cannot say they were
gone。 It was not that the Bright Ones were absent； but that the
dim eyes of rebel man no longer could see them。 In your chamber
hangs a picture of one whom you never knew； but whom you have long
held in tenderest regard； and who was painted for you by a friend
of mine； the Knight of Plympton。 She communes with you。 She
smiles on you。 When your spirits are low； her bright eyes shine on
you and cheer you。 Her innocent sweet smile is a caress to you。
She never fails to soothe you with her speechless prattle。 You
love her。 She is alive with you。 As you extinguish your candle
and turn to sleep； though your eyes see her not； is she not there
still smiling？ As you lie in the night awake； and thinking of your
duties； and the morrow's inevitable toil oppressing the busy；
weary； wakeful brain as with a remorse； the crackling fire flashes
up for a moment in the grate； and she is there； your little
Beauteous Maiden； smiling with her sweet eyes！ When moon is down；
when fire is out； when curtains are drawn； when lids are closed； is
she not there； the little Beautiful One； though invisible； present
and smiling still？ Friend； the Unseen Ones are round about us。
Does it not seem as if the time were drawing near when it shall be
given to men to behold them？〃
The print of which my friend spoke； and which； indeed； hangs in my
room； though he has never been there； is that charming little
winter piece of Sir Joshua； representing the little Lady Caroline
Montague； afterwards Duchess of Buccleuch。 She is represented as
standing in the midst of a winter landscape； wrapped in muff and
cloak； and she looks out of her picture with a smile so exquisite
that a Herod could not see her without being charmed。
〃I beg your pardon； Mr。 PINTO；〃 I said to the person with whom I
was conversing。 （I wonder； by the way； that I was not surprised at
his knowing how fond I am of this print。） 〃You spoke of the Knight
of Plympton。 Sir Joshua died 1792： and you say he was your dear
friend？〃
As I spoke I chanced to look at Mr。 Pinto； and then it suddenly
struck me： Gracious powers！ Perhaps you ARE a hundred years old；
now I think of it。 You look more than a hundred。 Yes； you may be
a thousand years old for what I know。 Your teeth are false。 One
eye is evidently false。 Can I say that the other is not？ If a
man's age may be calculated by the rings round his eyes； this man
may be as old as Methuselah。 He has no beard。 He wears a large
curly glossy brown wig； and his eyebrows are painted a deep olive…
green。 It was odd to hear this man； this walking mummy； talking
sentiment； in these queer old chambers in Shepherd's Inn。
Pinto passed a yellow bandanna handkerchief over his awful white
teeth； and kept his glass eye steadily fixed on me。 〃Sir Joshua's
friend？〃 said he （you perceive； eluding my direct question）。 〃Is
not everyone that knows his pictures Reynolds's friend？ Suppose I
tell you that I have been in his painting room scores of times； and
that his sister The has made me tea； and his sister Toffy has made
coffee for me？ You will only say I am an old ombog。〃 （Mr。 Pinto；
I remarked； spoke all languages with an accent equally foreign。）
〃Suppose I tell you that I knew Mr。 Sam Johnson； and did not like
him？ that I was at that very ball at Madame Cornelis'； which you
have mentioned in one of your littlewhat do you call them？bah！
my memory begins to fail mein one of your little Whirligig
Papers？ Suppose I tell you that Sir Joshua has been here； in this
very room？〃
〃Have you； then； had these apartments formorethanseventy
years？〃 I asked。
〃They look as if they had not been swept for that timedon't they？
Hey？ I did not say that I had them for seventy years； but that Sir
Joshua has visited me here。〃
〃When？〃 I asked； eying the man sternly； for I began to think he was
an impostor。
He answered me with a glance still more stern： 〃Sir Joshua Reynolds
was here this very morning； with Angelica Kaufmann and Mr。 Oliver
Goldschmidt。 He is still very much attached to Angelica； who still
does not care for him。 Because he is dead （and I was in the fourth
mourning coach at his funeral） is that any reason why he should not
come back to earth again？ My good sir； you are laughing at me。 He
has sat many a time on that very chair which you are now occupying。
There are several spirits in the room now； whom you cannot see。
Excuse me。〃 Here he turned round as if he was addressing somebody；
and began rapidly speaking a language unknown to me。 〃It is
Arabic；〃 he said； 〃a bad patois； I own。 I learned it in Barbary；
when I was a prisoner among the Moors。 In anno 1609； bin ick aldus
ghekledt gheghaen。 Ha！ you doubt me： look at me well。 At least I
am like〃
Perhaps some of my readers remember a paper of which the figure of
a man carrying a barrel formed the initial letter； and which I
copied from an old spoon now in my possession。 As I looked at Mr。
Pinto I do declare he looked so like the figure on that old piece
of plate that I started and felt very uneasy。 〃Ha！〃 said he；
laughing through his false teeth （I declare they were falseI
could see utterly toothless gums working up and down behind the
pink coral）； 〃you see I wore a beard den； I am shafed now； perhaps
you tink I am A SPOON。 Ha； ha！〃 And as he laughed he gave a cough
which I thought would have coughed his teeth out； his glass eye
out； his wig off； his very head off； but he stopped this convulsion
by stumping across the room and seizing a little bottle of bright
pink medicine； which； being opened； spread a singular acrid
aromatic odor through the apartment； and I thought I sawbut of
this I cannot take an affirmationa light green and violet flame
flickering round the neck of the vial as he opened it。 By the way；
from the peculiar stumping noise which he made in crossing the
bare…boarded apartment； I knew at once that my strange entertainer
had a wooden leg。 Over the dust which lay quite thick on the
boards； you could see the mark of one foot very neat and pretty；
and then a round O； which was naturally the impression made by the
wooden stump。 I own I had a queer thrill as I saw that mark； and
felt a secret comfort that it was not CLOVEN。
In this desolate apartment in which Mr。 Pinto had invited me to see
him； there were three chairs； one bottomless； a little table on
which you might put a breakfast tray； and not a single other
article of furniture。 In the next room； the door of which was
open； I could see a magnificent gilt dressing case； with some
splendid diamond and ruby shirt studs lying by it； and a chest of
drawers； and a cupboard apparently full of clothes。
Remembering him in Baden…Baden in great magnificence I wondered at
his present denuded state。 〃You have a house elsewhere； Mr。
Pinto？〃 I said。
〃Many；〃 says he。 〃I have apartments in many cities。 I lock dem
up； and do not carry mosh logish。〃
I then remembered that his apartment at Baden； where I first met
him； was bare； and had no bed in it。
〃There is； then； a sleeping room beyond？〃
〃This is the sleeping room。〃 （He pronounces it DIS。 Can this； by
the way； give any clew to the nationality of this singular man？）
〃If you sleep on these two old chairs you have a rickety couch； if
on the floor； a dusty one。〃
〃Suppose I sleep up dere？〃 said this strange man； and he actually
pointed up to the ceiling。 I thought him mad or what he himself
called 〃an ombog。〃 〃I know。 You do not believe me； for why should
I deceive you？ I came but to propose a matter of business to you。
I told you I could give you the clew to the mystery of the Two
Children in Black； whom you met at Baden； and you came to see me。
If I told you you would not believe me。 What for try and convinz
you？ Ha hey？〃 And he shook his hand once； twice； thrice； at me；
and glared at me out of his eye in a peculiar way。
Of what happened now I protest I cannot give an accurate account。
It seemed to me that there shot a flame from his eye into my brain；
while behind his GLASS eye there was a green illumination as if a
candle had been lit in it。 It seemed to me that from his long
fingers two quivering flames issued； sputtering； as it were； which
penetrated me； and forced me back into one of the chairsthe
broken oneout of which I had much difficulty in scrambling； when
the strange glamour was ended。 It seemed to me that； when I was so
fixed； so transfixed in the broke