in this mansion of gloom i now proposed to myself a sojourn of some weeks. its proprietor, roderick usher, had been one of my boon companions in boyhood; but many years had elapsed since our last meeting. a letter, however, had lately reached me in a distant part of the country—a letter from him—which, in its wildly importunate nature, had admitted of no other than a personal reply. the ms. gave evidence of nervous agitation. the writer spoke of acute bodily illness—of a mental disorder which oppressed him—and of an earnest desire to see