to, nor even with the amount of this possessed or withheld property. Yet she spoke with energy, unlike a mere love-sick puppet, and looked to the future good as well as the present enjoyment.

"I am ignorant," she said, "how my uncle derives his supply for my expenditure. I know my father's small estate descended to me; and my mother-my poor mother-could not have intended any one but myself to succeed to all she had; but I know not in whose hands it is, or whether I can now command it."

"Be persuaded, dearest," I replied, "that you are all I need on earth; and nothing could add to my riches, if I were so blest as to call you mine."

But still she proceeded in her former vein.

"Even the few trinkets which I have," she said, "are scarcely worth carrying away. The more valuable jewels-"

I shuddered at the bare word.

"Oh! forget," I said, interrupting her, "forget that you are speaking with a man whom you may have some reason to consider avaricious and worldly. Think for me, as you would for yourself. And these baubles-"

"Nay," she added, with the simplicity of a mere child, "if they were really valueless, I should not

remember them; but I know that they constituted a dowry for more than one of my mother's family; and she herself proved too well how highly they were estimated. But when the barbarians shed her blood to gain possession of them, it was not likely they would leave behind them any thing of real value."

"Her blood!—her blood! What do you mean, my dearest Rachel?-speak-speak quickly."

"Did you not know then that she was murdered?" "When? by whom, and where? Oh, tell me

all!"

She did tell me all, with a fearful and fatal accuracy, which is remembered to a syllable, even at this late hour of my life. A pause—a little pause only succeeded her narrative. It was I who terminated it.

66

Forgive me," I cried, "forgive the wretch hereafter, who has drawn you to this precipice. Be free -be happy! I cannot see you again in this life, for I have once done you the most tremendous of injuries; and but just now I was on the eve of sinning in a like way, though not so willingly.-Your mother, your mother was murdered at my instigation!"

I rushed from her side, deaf to the piercing shriek that followed this announcement, and was seen no more by her. I did dispose of my property; but for a new purpose. In a few days I had fled from my native country, and was shortly afterwards landed

--

on a shore to me more hospitable, where for years I struggled with remorse, that would not kill me, though most sincerely did I long for death. For ever were rising up before me those phantoms, which had once been the realities I speak of here;-the deed of crime the wanderings and woe that followed the short-lived dream of tranquillity—the happiness so nearly consummated - the sudden reverse, and renewal of all my old self-torture. Few and uncertain were the calm intervals of this long season. A hand more mighty was at last stretched to pacify the waters of my strife: it came in its strength, during my solitary sojourn amongst strangers; it calmed the restlessness of my spirit; it gave a holy, and therefore, a happy aim!

Many, many years elapsed, before I returned to the country of my birth. My nature and aspect were changed; but I could not then-I cannot now, recal to mind one portion of my hideous manhood, without an agitation which may have communicated something of itself to the tenor of these Recollections. May mercy be mine, in the sadness of those times!- and oh! much rather may mercy be mine hereafter, when those times will be remembered in judgment against me!

It was on such a morning as that I have before described, when I entered the village where had

dwelt my young love. The church bell was tolling now also, but with a different melody. It was the requiem of one, not yet over-borne by years or decay —but sunken under the hostility of a saddened existence. It was a lady who died, chiefly, they said, of a spirit bruised by early disappointment, and subsequent ill-treatment. She had wedded some brute who broke her heart by neglect. Had she been mine, I believe—perhaps I dream—that this would have been otherwise. And yet, who can say that whatever has been might have been amended? Am I the wise man who would correct the ordained course of things? or do I grieve, Rachel my beautiful, my beloved! that thou hast gone thus early to thy grave, shrouded in thine innocence—thus early to behold and taste the joys from which I would have kept thee back?

In the darkness and loneliness of the days which are left to me on earth, when the spectres of the past stand most thickly, and with deepest horror, around mee-poor solitary wretch as I am, and must be, till that funeral bell proclaims the termination of my own sad pilgrimage—when I am most hopeless, may the thought of this departed Angel point out to me a track all bright and luminous, with just anticipation of a final rest. When I am most selfdebased, and wrung with anguish for my sins, may

her love and pity for me soothe the delirium of the moment, and teach me that though I could not then deserve it, yet my ways may in time be those of pleasantness, and the ruffled river may emerge at last into an ocean of eternal calm!

I know, I know that my crime is one which man should not, cannot pardon: I know that the very mention of my name must ever be followed with contempt and execration; that, like another Cain, I bear upon my brow the marks of meditated, of accomplished homicide! But to this I am resigned, by the conviction that it must soon terminate, by the hope that it may be terminated for ever: for who-who shall say that the blood of the Redeemer, which cleanseth from all sin, may not cleanse even from this? Who shall say that even I may not be heard when I offer the prayer of the Psalmist,-a murderer too, like myself,—' Pardon mine iniquity, O Lord, for it is great! O my God! if I have remembered thee in my bed, and thought upon thee when I was waking; if I have been made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights have been appointed to me; if one hour of guilt has been followed by years and years of the deepest and bitterest repentance, grant me deliverance in the great and fearful day, for I have sought it carefully with tears!'