1 He was deeply read in books of chivalry and romance.
2 I read merely to understand their meaning, and they well repaid my labours.
3 As I read, however, I applied much personally to my own feelings and condition.
4 Tears also gushed from the eyes of Clerval, as he read the account of my misfortune.
5 Elizabeth read my anguish in my countenance, and kindly taking my hand, said, "My dearest friend, you must calm yourself."
6 I read with ardour those works, so full of genius and discrimination, which modern inquirers have written on these subjects.
7 I read and studied the wild fancies of these writers with delight; they appeared to me treasures known to few besides myself.
8 At other times he worked in the garden, but as there was little to do in the frosty season, he read to the old man and Agatha.
9 I found myself similar yet at the same time strangely unlike to the beings concerning whom I read and to whose conversation I was a listener.
10 This reading had puzzled me extremely at first, but by degrees I discovered that he uttered many of the same sounds when he read as when he talked.
11 But the cursory glance my father had taken of my volume by no means assured me that he was acquainted with its contents, and I continued to read with the greatest avidity.
12 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.
13 I have read with ardour the accounts of the various voyages which have been made in the prospect of arriving at the North Pacific Ocean through the seas which surround the pole.
14 Clerval, who had watched my countenance as I read this letter, was surprised to observe the despair that succeeded the joy I at first expressed on receiving new from my friends.
15 But it is a still greater evil to me that I am self-educated: for the first fourteen years of my life I ran wild on a common and read nothing but our Uncle Thomas' books of voyages.
16 So soon as he had finished, the youth began, not to play, but to utter sounds that were monotonous, and neither resembling the harmony of the old man's instrument nor the songs of the birds; I since found that he read aloud, but at that time I knew nothing of the science of words or letters.
17 Before, I looked upon the accounts of vice and injustice that I read in books or heard from others as tales of ancient days or imaginary evils; at least they were remote and more familiar to reason than to the imagination; but now misery has come home, and men appear to me as monsters thirsting for each other's blood.
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