touching　every　object　that　came　in　my　way　for　six　months；　I　at
  length　flung　my　book；　I　mean　the　copy　of　it　which　I　possessed；　into
  the　fire；　and　began　another。
  'But　it　was　all　in　vain；　I　laboured　at　this　other；　finished　it；　and
  gave　it　to　the　world；　and　no　sooner　had　I　done　so；　than　the　same
  thought　was　busy　in　my　brain；　poisoning　all　the　pleasure　which　I
  should　otherwise　have　derived　from　my　work。　　How　did　I　get　all　the
  matter　which　composed　it？　　Out　of　my　own　mind；　unquestionably；　but
  how　did　it　come　there　…　was　it　the　indigenous　growth　of　the　mind？
  And　then　I　would　sit　down　and　ponder　over　the　various　scenes　and
  adventures　in　my　book；　endeavouring　to　ascertain　how　I　came
  originally　to　devise　them；　and　by　dint　of　reflecting　I　remembered
  that　to　a　single　word　in　conversation；　or　some　simple　accident　in　a
  street　or　on　a　road；　I　was　indebted　for　some　of　the　happiest
  portions　of　my　work；　they　were　but　tiny　seeds；　it　is　true；　which　in
  the　soil　of　my　imagination　had　subsequently　become　stately　trees；
  but　I　reflected　that　without　them　no　stately　trees　would　have　been
  produced；　and　that；　consequently；　only　a　part　in　the　merit　of　these
  compositions　which　charmed　the　world　…　for　the　did　charm　the　world
  …　was　due　to　myself。　　Thus；　a　dead　fly　was　in　my　phial；　poisoning
  all　the　pleasure　which　I　should　otherwise　have　derived　from　the
  result　of　my　brain…sweat。　　〃How　hard！〃　I　would　exclaim；　looking　up
  to　the　sky；　〃how　hard！　　I　am　like　Virgil's　sheep；　bearing　fleeces
  not　for　themselves。〃　　But；　not　to　tire　you；　it　fared　with　my　second
  work　as　it　did　with　my　first；　I　flung　it　aside；　and；　in　order　to
  forget　it；　I　began　a　third；　on　which　I　am　now　occupied；　but　the
  difficulty　of　writing　it　is　immense；　my　extreme　desire　to　be
  original　sadly　cramping　the　powers　of　my　mind；　my　fastidiousness
  being　so　great　that　I　invariably　reject　whatever　ideas　I　do　not
  think　to　be　legitimately　my　own。　　But　there　is　one　circumstance　to
  which　I　cannot　help　alluding　here；　as　it　serves　to　show　what
  miseries　this　love　of　originality　must　needs　bring　upon　an　author。
  I　am　constantly　discovering　that；　however　original　I　may　wish　to
  be；　I　am　continually　producing　the　same　things　which　other　people
  say　or　write。　　Whenever；　after　producing　something　which　gives　me
  perfect　satisfaction；　and　which　has　cost　me　perhaps　days　and　nights
  of　brooding；　I　chance　to　take　up　a　book　for　the　sake　of　a　little
  relaxation；　a　book　which　I　never　saw　before；　I　am　sure　to　find　in
  it　something　more　or　less　resembling　some　part　of　what　I　have　been
  just　composing。　　You　will　easily　conceive　the　distress　which　then
  comes　over　me；　'tis　then　that　I　am　almost　tempted　to　execrate　the
  chance　which；　by　discovering　my　latent　powers；　induced　me　to　adopt
  a　profession　of　such　anxiety　and　misery。
  'For　some　time　past　I　have　given　up　reading　almost　entirely；　owing
  to　the　dread　which　I　entertain　of　lighting　upon　something　similar
  to　what　I　myself　have　written。　　I　scarcely　ever　transgress　without
  having　almost　instant　reason　to　repent。　　To…day；　when　I　took　up　the
  newspaper；　I　saw　in　a　speech　of　the　Duke　of　Rhododendron；　at　an
  agricultural　dinner；　the　very　same　ideas；　and　almost　the　same
  expressions　which　I　had　put　into　the　mouth　of　an　imaginary
  personage　of　mine；　on　a　widely　different　occasion；　you　saw　how　I
  dashed　the　newspaper　down　…　you　saw　how　I　touched　the　floor；　the
  touch　was　to　baffle　the　evil　chance；　to　prevent　the　critics
  detecting　any　similarity　between　the　speech　of　the　Duke　of
  Rhododendron　at　the　agricultural　dinner　and　the　speech　of　my
  personage。　　My　sensibility　on　the　subject　of　my　writings　is　so
  great　that　sometimes　a　chance　word　is　sufficient　to　unman　me；　I
  apply　it　to　them　in　a　superstitious　sense；　for　example；　when　you
  said　some　time　ago　that　the　dark　hour　was　coming　on；　I　applied　it
  to　my　works　…　it　appeared　to　bode　them　evil　fortune；　you　saw　how　I
  touched；　it　was　to　baffle　the　evil　chance；　but　I　do　not　confine
  myself　to　touching　when　the　fear　of　the　evil　chance　is　upon　me。　　To
  baffle　it　I　occasionally　perform　actions　which　must　appear　highly
  incomprehensible；　I　have　been　known；　when　riding　in　company　with
  other　people；　to　leave　the　direct　road；　and　make　a　long　circuit　by
  a　miry　lane　to　the　place　to　which　we　were　going。　　I　have　also　been
  seen　attempting　to　ride　across　a　morass；　where　I　had　no　business
  whatever；　and　in　which　my　horse　finally　sank　up　to　its　saddle…
  girths；　and　was　only　extricated　by　the　help　of　a　multitude　of
  hands。　　I　have；　of　course；　frequently　been　asked　the　reason　of　such
  conduct；　to　which　I　have　invariably　returned　no　answer；　for　I　scorn
  duplicity；　whereupon　people　have　looked　mysteriously；　and　sometimes
  put　their　fingers　to　their　foreheads。　　〃And　yet　it　can't　be；〃　I
  once　heard　an　old　gentleman　say；　〃don't　we　know　what　he　is　capable
  of？〃　and　the　old　man　was　right；　I　merely　did　these　things　to　avoid
  the　evil　chance；　impelled　by　the　strange　feeling　within　me；　and
  this　evil　chance　is　invariably　connected　with　my　writings；　the　only
  things　at　present　which　render　life　valuable　to　me。　　If　I　touch
  various　objects；　and　ride　into　miry　places；　it　is　to　baffle　any
  mischance　befalling　me　as　an　author；　to　prevent　my　books　getting
  into　disrepute；　in　nine　cases　out　of　ten　to　prevent　any
  expressions；　thoughts；　or　situations　in　any　work　which　I　am　writing
  from　resembling　the　thoughts；　expressions；　and　situations　of　other
  authors；　for　my　great　wish；　as　I　told　you　before；　is　to　be
  original。
  'I　have　now　related　my　history；　and　have　revealed　to　you　the
  secrets　of　my　inmost　bosom。　　I　should　certainly　not　have　spoken　so
  unreservedly　as　I　have　done；　had　I　not　discovered　in　you　a　kindred
  spirit。　　I　have　long　wished　for　an　opportunity　of　discoursing　on
  the　point　which　forms　the　peculiar　feature　of　my　history　with　a
  being　who　could　understand　me；　and　truly　it　was　a　lucky　chance
  which　brought　you　to　these　parts；　you　who　seem　to　be　acquainted
  with　all　things　strange　and　singular；　and　who　are　as　well
  acquainted　with　the　subject　of　the　magic　touch　as　with　all　that
  relates　to　the　star　Jupiter　or　the　mysterious　tree　at　Upsal。'
  Such　was　the　story　which　my　host　related　to　me　in　the　library；
  amidst　the　darkness；　occasionally　broken　by　flashes　of　lightning。
  Both　of　us　remained　silent　for　some　time　after　it　was　concluded。
  'It　is　a　singular　story；'　said　I；　at　last；　'though　I　confess　that　I
  was　prepared　for　some　part　of　it。　　Will　you　permit　me　to　ask　you　a
  question？'
  'Certainly；'　said　my　host。
  'Did　you　never　speak　in　public？'　said　I。
  'Never。'
  'And　when　you　made　this　speech　of　yours　in　the　dining…room；
  commencing　with　Mr。　Speaker；　no　one　was　present？'
  'None　in　the　world；　I　double…locked　the　door；　what　do　you　mean？'
  'An　idea　came　into　my　head　…　dear　me　how　the　rain　is　pouring　…　but；
  with　respect　to　your　present　troubles　and　anxieties；　would　it　not
  be　wise；　seeing　that　authorship　causes　you　so　much　trouble　and
  anxiety；　to　give　it　up　altogether？'
  'Were　you　an　author　yourself；'　replied　my　host；　'you　would　not　talk
  in　this　manner；　once　an　author；　ever　an　author　…　besides；　what
  could　I　do？　return　to　my　former　state　of　vegetation？　no；　much　as　I
  endure；　I　do　not　wish　that；　besides；　every　now　and　then　my　reason
  tells　me　that　these　troubles　and　anxieties　of　mine　are　utterly
  without；　foundation　that　whatever　I　write　is　the　legitimate　growth
  of　my　own　mind；　and　that　it　is　the　height　of　folly　to　afflict
  myself　at　any　chance　resemblance　between　my　own　thoughts　and　those
  of　other　writers；　such　resemblance　being　inevitable　from　the　fact
  of　our　common　human　origin。　　In　short　…　'
  'I　understand　you；'　said　I；　'notwithstanding　your　troubles　and
  anxieties　you　find　life　very　tolerable；　has　your　originality　ever
  been　called　in　question？'
  'On　the　contrary；　every　one　declares　that　originality　constitutes
  the　most　remarkable　feature　of　my　writings；　the　man　has　some
  faults；　they　say；　but　want　of　originality　is　certainly　not　one　of
  them。　　He　is　quite　different　from　others　…　a　certain　newspaper；　it
  is　true；　the　…　I　think；　once　insinuated　that　in　a　certain　work　of
  mine　I　had　taken　a　hint　or　two　from　the　writings　of　a　couple　of
  authors　which　it　mentioned；　it　happened；　however；　that　I　had　never
  even　read　one　syllable　of　the　writings　of　either；　and　of　one　of
  them　had　never　even　heard　the　name；　so　much　for　the　discrimination
  of　the　…。　　By　the　bye；　what　a　rascally　newspaper　that　is！'
  'A　very　rascally　newspaper；'　said　I。
  CHAPTER　LXVII
  Disturbed　slumbers　…　The　bed…post　…　Two　wizards　…　What　can　I　do？　…
  Real　library　…　The　Rev。　Mr。　Platitude　…　Toleration　to　Dissenters　…
  Paradox　…　Sword　of　St。　Peter　…　Enemy　to　humbug　…　High　principles　…
  False　concord　…　The　damsel　…　What　religion？　…　Further　conversation
  …　That　would　never　do！　…　May　you　prosper。