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Job does wish him good health-Job loves the king, only Job don't love rum.'

The officer had approached so nigh as to perceive that the whole scene was one of disorder and abuse, and pushing aside the crowd of excited and deriding soldiers, who composed the throng, he broke at once into the centre of the circle.

This half-witted Job is rescued from the

office of a bearer of ill-news, and both expe-witted! Mercy on poor Job! Oh! you make his which would have been fatal to her, but rienced the correctness of the adage. Instead flesh creep!" I'll cut the heart from the mutinous knave, in- abovementioned, who is immediately atfor the sudden appearance of the keeper of restoring Lincoln's cheerfulness, they un-terrupted a hoarse, angry voice; ‘to refuse to drink settled his reason; and, after various adven- the health of his majesty!" tacked, thrown down, and nearly strangled tures, he becomes the tenant of a private madby the baronet, from whom he can only exhouse in England. After the lapse of some ticate himself by repeated stabs. He esyears, his legitimate son, Lionel, goes thither, capes, his antagonist dies in a few moments, becomes an officer in the British service, and and the story closes with the departure of returns to Boston, a short time previous to Lionel and Cecil for England, and the the commencement of the revolutionary evacuation of Boston by the British. war, accompanied by his father, who had contrived to escape from his confinement. He is unknown, however, to his son, who has not seen him for fifteen years. His lunacy, it may be observed, is of a partial kind, and is not suspected, being principally shown by an extravagant zeal for liberty, which was not likely to be considered madness in Boston fifty years ago. The work opens with the arrival of their vessel, and a description of the town and harbour, the former occupied by a military garrison, and deprived of its commercial bustle, by the well known closure of the port, in consequence of the refractory disposition of its inhabitants. From this description we shall

make our first extract.

Beside the characters principally concerned in the conduct of the main action, there are various accessories, who are by no means the least interesting. Dennis M'Fuse, an Irish grenadier officer, and Peter Polwarth, a corpulent captain, stand in the front rank among these; and with respect to the former we only regret that the author should have found it necessary to kill him, in the first volume. We think the character of M'Fuse, and that of Seth Sage, the Yankee landlord, among the author's happiest efforts. That of Polwarth, though on the whole very well executed, is sometimes, to use a word from the Captain's own vocabulary, a little "overdone." This excess of colouring is indeed one of Mr Cooper's faults, but it is one that experience will mend, and is very different in that particular, from its opposite, tameness. In fact, he has been thus improving in each successive work; there is less caricature in the one before us, than in the preceding. We are enabled, in a single extract, to give a specimen of the three characters abovementioned, as well as of the spirit with which the dialogue

soldiers by Major Lincoln, and proves, in the sequel, to be the son of the baronet by Abigail Pray. He conducts them both to the well known triangular warehouse in Dock Square, then useless, of course, for its original purpose, and serving as a city of refuge for his wretched mother. She testifies some alarm at the sound of the baronet's voice, but does not recognise him, and he takes up his abode without ceremony in the warehouse. Major Lincoln is conducted to the house of Mrs Lechmere, in Tremont Street, the same that is now standing, and celebrated as the residence of Sir Henry Vane nearly two centuries ago. Here he is introduced to the princiThe rounded heights of Dorchester were radiant pal females of the story, Cecil Dynevor, with the rays of the luminary, that had just sunk the grandchild of Mrs Lechmere, and behind their crest, and streaks of paler light were Agnes Danforth, her cousin; the latter a playing along the waters, and gilding the green bitter whig, who regards him, of course, summits of the islands, which clustered across the mouth of the estuary. Far in the distance were with some coolness. After a reasonable to be seen the tall spires of the churches, rising out interim, he falls in love with Cecil, and acof the deep shadows of the town, with their vanes companies the troops on their disastrous glittering in the sun-beams, while a few rays of expedition to Concord. He is also present strong light were dancing about the black beacon, at the battle of Bunker Hill, where he rewhich reared itself high above the conical peak that took its name from the circumstance of sup-ceives a wound which confines him to his porting this instrument of alarms. Several large bed for many months. His love is no way vessels were anchored among the islands and be- diminished by the attentions of Cecil, durfore the town, their dark hulls, at each moment, ing this period, and his marriage follows becoming less distinct through the haze of evening, hard upon his recovery. while the summits of their long lines of masts were It is attended yet glowing with the marks of day. From each of with disastrous omens, and their return these sullen ships, from the low fortification which from church precedes the death of Mrs rose above a small island deep in the bay, and from Lechmere, who has likewise been ill for various elevations in the town itself, the broad, silky some time, but a few minutes. The scene folds of the flag of England were yet waving in the at her death-bed, at which the baronet sudcurrents of the passing air. The young man was suddenly aroused from gazing at this scene, by the denly appears, works upon the nerves of quick reports of the evening guns, and while his Major Lincoln, and he is persuaded, in the eyes were yet tracing the descent of the proud fever of the moment and for a purpose symbols of the British power, from their respective which we have not room to explain, to acplaces of display, he felt his arm convulsively company the maniac to the other side of pressed by the hand of his aged fellow-passenger. the river, where he is taken prisoner by the The passengers were hardly landed on Americans, and where we shall leave him the wharf, when they are introduced to the for the present and return to Tremont knowledge of a person who makes a prin- Street. Here the bride, thus unaccountacipal figure in these volumes, in the follow-bly deserted by her husband, is in a state to ing spirited and highly dramatic manner. be easier imagined than described. She is encouraged to follow him, by the arrival of the keeper of the baronet, who had made a voyage to America in pursuit of him. They pass over to the American camp, and find Major Lincoln at Washington's quarters. By the assistance of the baronet, who is in high favour with the Americans, he is enabled to escape, and, after some difficulties, they again arrive in Boston, and proceed to the warehouse, then occupied by Abigail Pray, her ideot son, who is dying with the small-pox, and a friend of Major Lincoln. The death of Job is followed by his mother's repentant confession of her former perjury, thereby exciting the fury of the maniac to a degree

The reply of the youth was interrupted by sudden and violent shrieks, that burst rudely on the stillness of the place, chilling the very blood of those who heard them, with their piteousness. The quick and severe blows of a lash were blended with the exclamations of the sufferer, and rude oaths, with hoarse execrations, from various voices, were united in the uproar, which appeared to be at no great distance. By a common impulse, the whole party broke away from the spot, and moved rapidly up the wharf in the direction of the sounds. As they approached the buildings, a group was seen collected around the man who thus broke the charm of evening by his cries, interrupting his wailings with their ribaldry, and encouraging his tormentors to proceed.

Mercy, mercy, for the sake of the blessed God, have mercy, and don't kill Job!' again shrieked the sufferer; Job will run your a'r'rds! Job is half

of the work is conducted.

M'Fuse was seated at a table, with a ludicrous air of magisterial authority, while Polwarth held a station at his side, which appeared to partake of the double duties of a judge and a scribe. Before this formidable tribunal Seth Sage was arraigned, as it to have been committed in the field of battle. Igwould seem, to answer for certain offences alleged

norant that his landlord had not received the benent

of the late exchange, and curious to know what all
the suppressed roguery he could detect in the de-
mure countenances of is friends might signify,
ceeding dialogue.
Lionel dropped his pen, and listened to the suc

with a wise name, M'Fuse commenced, in a voice
Now answer to your offences, thou silly fellow,
that did not fail, by its harsh cadences, to create
some of that awe, which, by the expression of the
speaker's eye, it would seem he laboured to pro-
duce-speak out with the freedom of a man, and
the compunctions of a Christian, if you have them.
Why should I not send you at once to Ireland, that

ye may get your deserts on three pieces of timber,
the one being laid cross-wise for the sake of conve-
nience. If you have a contrary reason, bestow it
angular daiformities.'
without delay, for the love you bear your own

The wags did not altogether fail in their object,
Seth betraying a good deal more uneasiness than it
was usual for the man to exhibit even in situations
of uncommon peril. After clearing his throat, and
looking about him, to gather from the eyes of the
spectators which way their sympathies inclined, be
answered with a very commendable fortitude-
'Because it's ag'in all law.'

of the law, cried M'Fuse, and do not bother hon Have done with your interminable perplexities est gentlemen with its knavery, as if they were no more than so many proctors in big wigs! 'tis the gospel you should be thinking of, you godless repro bate, on account of that final end you will yet make one day, in a most indecent hurry."

339

To your purpose, Mac,' interrupted Polwarth, is well to devote to an unfortunate being | cipitated the war. It was the major of marines,* who perceived that the erratic feelings of his friend of that description. His appearance, who sat looking at the sight, for a minute, with an were beginning already to lead him from the desired when assaulted by the grenadiers, in eye as vacant as the one that seemed to throw back point; or I will propound the matter myself, in a the second volume, is highly dramatic, buried his rowels in the flanks of his horse, and his wild gaze, and then rousing from his trance, he style that would do credit to a mandamus counsellor.' but we hope the conduct of the grena- disappeared in the smoke that enveloped a body of The mandamuses are all ag'in the charter, and diers themselves on that occasion has little the grenadiers, waving his sword on high, and the law too,' continued Seth, whose courage in- foundation in nature. The original of this shoutingcreased as the dialogue bore more directly upon character we suppose to have been an his political principles-and to my mind it's quite ideot, who went by the singular name of convincing that if ministers calculate largely on upholding them, there will be great disturbances, if Johnny Yanks, and who was shot by the not a proper fight in the land; for the whole counBritish troops on their return from Contry is in a blaze!' cord, as he stood, waving his hat in triumph, on a stone wall.

Disturbances, thou immovable iniquity; thou quiet assassin!' roared M'Fuse; do ye call a fight of a day a disturbance, or do ye tar'm skulking

behind fences, and laying the muzzle of a musket on the head of Job Pray, and the breech on a mullen-stalk, while ye draw upon a fellow-creature, a commendable method of fighting! Now answer me to the truth, and disdain all lying, as ye would'ating any thing but cod on a Saturday, who were the two men that ured into my very countenance, from the unfortunate situation among the mullens that I have detailed to you?'

'Pardon me, captain M'Fuse,' said Polwarth, if I say that your zeal and indignation run ahead of your discretion. If we alarm the prisoner in this manner, we may defeat the ends of justice. Besides, sir, there is a reflection contained in your language, to which I must dissent. A real dumb is not to be despised, especially when served up in a wrapper, and between two coarser fish to preserve the steam-curred. I have had my private meditations on the subject of getting up a Saturday's club, in order to enjoy the bounty of the Bay, and for improving the cookery

of the cod!'

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And let me tell you, captain Polwarth,' returned the grenadier, cocking his eye fiercely at the other. that your epicurean propensities lead you to the verge of cannibalism; for sure it may be called that, when you speak of 'ating while the life of a fellow cr'ature is under a discussion for its termination-'

'On-push on with the advance!'

The third, and the successful attack of the troops upon the defences of Bunker Hill is thus described.

Lionel had taken post in his regiment, but march

ing on the skirt of the column, he commanded a moved a battalion, reduced to a handful of men in the previous assaults. Behind these came a party of the marine guards, from the shipping, led by their own veteran Major; and next followed the Lionel looked in vain for the features of the gooddejected Nesbitt and his corps, amongst whom natured Polwarth. Similar columns marched on their right and left, encirling three sides of the redoubt by their battalions.

view of most of the scene of battle. In his front

The peculiar state of the country and the feelings of the colonists; the night-march of the troops to Lexington and their disastrous retreat; the battle and storm of the Bunker Hill redoubt; and the circumstances of a besieged town, are all described with force, feeling, and spirit. In short, Mr Cooper has selected, in this instance, a period and a subject replete with interest, and has done great justice to both. A few minutes brought him in full view of that The following extract is from the ac- session of which so much blood had that day been humble and unfinished mound of earth, for the poscount of the retreat from Concord. spilt in vain. It lay, as before, still as if none 'On-on with the advance!' cried fifty voices breathed within its bosom, though a terrific row of out of the cloud of smoke and dust that was mov- dark tubes were arrayed along its top, following the ing up the hill, on whose side this encounter oc- movements of the approaching columns, as the eyes of the imaginary charmers of our own wilderIn this manner the war continued to roll slowly ness are said to watch their victims. As the uproar onward, following the weary and heavy footsteps of the artillery again grew fainter, the crash of fallof the soldiery, who had now toiled for many miles, ing streets, and the appalling sounds of the conflasurrounded by the din of battle, and leaving in their gration, on their left, became more audible. Im path the bloody impressions of their footsteps. mense volumes of black smoke issued from the Lionel was enabled to trace their route, far towards smouldering ruins, and bellying outward, fold bethe north, by the bright red spots, which lay scat-yond fold, it overhung the work in a hideous cloud, tered in alarming numbers along the highway, and casting its gloomy shadow across the place of in the fields through which the troops occasionally blood. moved. He even found time, in the intervals of A strong column was now seen ascending, as if rest, to note the difference in the characters of the from out the burning town, and the advance of the combatants. Whenever the ground or the circum- whole became quick and spirited. A low call ran stances admitted of a regular attack, the dying con- through the platoons, to note the naked weapons of fidence of the troops would seem restored, and their adversaries, and it was followed by the cry of they moved up to the charge with the bold car-To the bayonet! to the bayonet!' with shouts, while their enemies melted before at the head of the dark column from the conflagrariage which high discipline inspires, rending the air 'Hurrah! for the Royal Irish!' shouted M'Fuse, their power in sullen silence, never ceasing to use tion. their weapons however, with an expertness that Perhaps there might be some mistake, for a great of the columns frequently brought the troops over rendered them doubly dangerous. The direction many of the troops were much disguised-' Do ye insinuate that I got drunk before the ene-ground that had been sharply contested in front, mies of my king!' roared the grenadier-Harkye, and the victims of these short struggles came unMister Sage, I ask you in a genteel way, who the der the eyes of the detachment. It was necessary two men were that fired on me, in the manner da- to turn a deaf ear to the cries and prayers of many tailed, and remember that a man may tire of putting fear written on every feature of their countenanwounded soldiers, who, with horror and abject questions which are never answered!' ces, were the helpless witnesses of the retreating files of their comrades. On the other hand, the American lay in his blood, regarding the passing detachment with a stern and indignant eye, that appeared to look far beyond his individual suffering. Over one body, Lionel pulled the reins of his horse, and he paused a moment to consider the spectacle. It was the lifeless form of a man, whose white locks, hollow cheeks, and emaciated frame, denoted that the bullet which had stricken him to the earth had anticipated the irresistible decrees of back, and his glazed eye expressed, even in death, time but a very few days. He had fallen on his the honest resentment he had felt while living; and his palsied hand continued to grasp the fire-lock, old and time-worn, like its owner, with which he had taken the field in behalf of his country.

'I conclude,' interrupted Seth, who was greatly averse to all quarreling, and who thought he saw the symptoms of a breach between his judges, 'the captain wishes to know who the two men were that fired on him a short time before he got the hit in

the shoulder?"

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A short time, ye marvellous hypocrite!'twas as quick as a pop and slap could make it.'

Why,' returned Seth, who, however expert at prevarication, eschewed, with religious horror. a direct lie I pretty much conclude that they-the captain is sure the place he means was just beyond Menotomy?'

As sure as men can be,' said Polwarth, who possess the use of their eyes.'

Then captain Polwarth can give testimony to

the fact?"

I believe Major Lincoln's horse carries a small bit of your lead to this moment, Master Sage.' Seth yielded to this accumulation of evidence against him, and knowing, moreover, that the grenadier had literally made him a prisoner in the fact of renewing his fire, he sagaciously determined to make a merit of necessity, and candidly to acknowledse his agency in inflicting the wounds. The ut

Where can a contest end which calls such

most, however, that his cautious habits would per-champions to its aid!" exclaimed Lionel, observing

mit him to say, was

'Seeing there can't well be any mistake, I seem to think, the two men were chiefly Job and I' The character of Job Pray is well supported, though, in our opinion, he occupies rather a larger share in the work, than it

that the shadow of another spectator fell across the
wan features of the dead-who can tell where
this torrent of blood can be stayed, or how many
are to be its victims!"

covered that he had unwittingly put this searching
Receiving no answer, he raised his eyes and dis-
question to the very man whose rashness had pre-

'Hurrah!' echoed a well-known voice from the people will teach 'em the law!' silent mound: let them come on to Breed's; the

Men think at such moments with the rapidity of lightning, and Lionel had even fancied his comrades in possession of the work, when the terrible stream of fire flashed in the faces of the men in front.

'Push on with the -th,' cried the veteran Major of Marines-push on, or the 18th will get the honour of the day!"

'We cannot,' murmured the soldiers of the -th; their fire is too heavy!'

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Then break, and let the marines pass through you!'

The feeble battalion melted away, and the warriors of the deep, trained to conflicts of hand to hand, sprang forward, with a loud shout, in their places. The Americans, exhausted of their ammunition, now sunk sullenly back, a few hurling stones of the British had been brought to enfilade their at their foes, in desperate indignation. The cannon short breast-work, which was no longer tenable; and as the columns approached closer to the low rampart, it became a mutual protection to the adverse parties.

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M'Fuse, rushing up to the trifling ascent, which

Hurrah! for the Royal Irish! again shouted

was but of little more than his own height.
'Hurrah!' repeated Pitcairn, waving his sword
on another angle of the work -'the day's our

own!"

One more sheet of flame issued out of the bosom * Pitcairn.

340

of the work, and all those brave men, who had emulated the examples of their officers, were swept away, as though a whirlwind had passed along The grenadier gave his war-cry once more before he pitched headlong among his enemies; while Pitcairn fell back into the arms of his own child. The cry of forward, 47th,' rung through their ranks, and in their turn this veteran battalion gallantly mounted the ramparts. In the shallow ditch Lionel passed the dying marine, and caught the dying and despairing look from his eyes, and in another instant he found himself in the presence of his foes. As company followed company into the defenceless redoubt, the Americans sullenly retired by its rear, keeping the bayonets of the soldiers at bay with clubbed muskets and sinewy arms. When the whole issued upon the open ground, the husbandmen received a close and fatal fire from the battalions which were now gathering around them on three sides. A scene of wild and savage confusion then succeeded to the order of the fight, and many fatal blows were given and taken, the mêlée rendering the use of fire-arms nearly impossible for several

minutes.

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We had marked several faults of minor importance in the course of two several perusals of this work; they are principally however of a kind, which has been noticed in various criticisms of his preceding works. We are, morever, glad to avail ourselves of the excuse afforded us by the consideration of the space already occupied by this arti cle to omit this disagreeable part of our office. We trust that our readers will find the extracts from this work sufficiently interesting to compensate the omission of the strictures, whose place they have anticipated. It remains for us only to say a few words of the relative merits of this, when compared with the former works of the same author. Considered as a work of genius it is perhaps superior to the Spy, and inferior to the Pioneers or the Pilot, while in point of literary execution it excels them all; and if it shall be decided to be less interesting on the whole than the two latter, it must be admitted that it contains fewer parts that are absolutely tedious, and fewer offences against good taste. We hope he may find, in the remaining provinces, subjects as good as that afforded by the " Bay Colony," and we have no doubt he will use them to as good purpose.

The Human Heart. New York. 1825. 12mo.

pp. 194.

with Coleridge's pet phrase, "the reading | babble about them quite too much. They
public." We cannot speak of one of them claim to be exquisitely alive to beauty of
without speaking of all; and their peculiari all kinds, and rave about things sweet and
ties, with the space they fill in modern litera- lovely without stint; but their devotion to
the tender and pretty is not true to nature,
ture, make them worthy of some notice.
All tale-makers by profession, must love or rather it belongs to a poor, weakly,
the marvellous; but the authors of these sickened nature; moreover the beauty
works differ from their fellow-wanderers in which they do affect, is not of the purest
the land of fiction, in the character of this and noblest kind; they would think the
propensity. They seek the marvellous Medicean Venus improved by putting a
earnestly, obstinately; but they seek that delicate peach bloom upon her cheek, and
which is strange in sentiment and passion, a rosebud to her nose, and dropping her
and not in circumstance and incident; they eyelids with an expression of melancholy
affect the wonders of the world within, and tenderness. So, too, their language is for
busy themselves far less with external things. the most part quaint and affected; they
Love is in their works, as in all others of the seek for obsolete words and idioms, and
imagination, a master passion, and all or al- have pet phrases, and are a little apt to
most all the interest of the tale is connected write as if an accumulation of strange and
with it; but they speak almost exclusively affected expressions was fine writing of the
of the workings of this passion, of the forms most original character. Nevertheless large
it assumes, the thoughts and feelings which parts of many of their works are eminently
grow out of it, and its growth, and progress, interesting and eloquent. The reason of
and power in the heart.
But little effort is this is, that some of these authors have
employed to make the events which occa- minds of quite a superior order, and work
sion it, or disturb or prosper it, interesting hard in their vocation; and every thing
in themselves. The story is important only which bears the distinct impress of a strong
as it is the foundation for the descriptions. and original intellect, must be interesting.
In this respect they may not seem to differ But the efforts of these master minds might,
from all the best modern novels; but in the as we think, have been made more produc-
Waverley novels-to take them as an in- tive of pleasure and profit to their readers
stance the descriptions are, and are in- and to themselves; we have always believed
tended to be, of exciting and natural that the popularity which these books at-
character. The power of the author of tained, was excessive, and could not be
these tales, is manifested in the truth and permanent
force with which he portrays, not merely The "Human Heart" seems to us just
possible, but probable passions, and shows about equal in its literary merits to the
them in their effects. His best characters average of its class. It contains eight tales,
are singular from their strength or peculiar most of which are abundantly old.
traits; but they are all such as the circum instance, the second story relates the in-
stances in which they live and which have famous brutality of Colonel Kirk, who se-
formed them, may well make of human be- duced the sister of a prisoner by the promise
ings. But the writers of the works which of pardon for her brother, and showed to her
form that class to which the book now un- the corpse of that brother, hanging from
der notice belongs, make their heroes and the gallows, when she had fulfilled her ex-
heroines love and hate, and hope and fear, torted promise. But the last tale is the
and enjoy and suffer excessively, that is, far most singular, and to us the most interest-
beyond the occasion. Scott makes his peo-ing. It is founded upon, or rather suggested
ple act out their feelings; but these writers by the following passage of an old book.
make theirs talk about them. To close this
contrast, we should say, that Scott seeks for haunted by a most strange phantom, the presence
'I once did heare of a great foreign lord, who was
that which is striking in the true and prob- of which was so dreadful, that it drove him for the
able, and endeavours to paint it truly and time to madnesse. Some folke would say that the
forcibly; while these writers aim at describ-nobleman did only see himself, or that his conscience
ing eloquently state sof the mind and heart
which are uncommon, and indicate extra
ordinary intellectual and moral constitu-
tions, and owe most of their interest to their
strangeness.

For

did appear before his eyes in a human shape.—
the words of the learned Master Burton, to bethink
Therefore, young men, I would admonish ye, in
yourselves, that "after many pleasant daies, and
fortunate adventures, and merry tides, this con-
science doth not at last arrest us.-As the prodigal
pany, jovial entertainment but a cruel reckoning in
son had dainty fare, sweet music, at first, merry com
the end, as bitter as wormwoo.

The Young Man's Looking-Glasse."
It exhibits rather more endeavour after

fierce and stern emotion, and strong de-
class; but it will serve reasonably well to
scription, than is usual with writers of this

Their great want is of truth and simplicity; and yet they suppose, or affect to suppose, that they are true to nature and simple as are delighted with natural objects altogether children. They love external nature, and beyond measure. We do not doubt, that THIS book belongs to a peculiar class, and in the love and pleasure which they so is distinctly marked with the characteristics vehemently and perpetually express, there of that class. Large editions of such works is much sincerity; but we give them credit as the "Lights and Shadows of Scottish for mingling with it a sufficiency of affectaLife," " "The Steam Boat," "Adam Blair," tion. Rainbows and flowers are beautiful, &c. have found many and ready purchasers but they are fleeting things, and the joy both in Great Britain and here, and they which their presence may give is hardly consciousness many long, weary hours before I are well known to all novel-readers;-a worth living for altogether; and though could speak, and I saw about my bed many pleasword which has become almost coextensive green fields are fair to look upon, one maying forms; I could just distinguish that their gas

and its brethren; and as it may also amuse our readers, we shall make a long extract

illustrate the characteristics of this book

from it.

I had been ill almost unto death. I awoke into

ments were those of some religious order. One of my shoulders, and the face that was mine, yet not
them, whose countenance was very mild, whose my own, close to my face; and if, by chance, I
voice was like gentle music, would sometimes stand stood alone in the midst of some brilliant saloon,
and gaze upon me, or touch my burning hands with the phantom would approach me and link his arm
her soft, cool fingers. She was the superior of the within mine, and look round at the company, and
sisterhood, and had lived since her youth (a period then point its finger in my face, and say, "They are
of thirty years) within that convent. They quitted all staring at us." Such a reality was attached to
the room, and for the first time the phantom ap- his presence, that I could never for the time per-
peared. He stood beside the bed in my own form. suade myself we were not observed.--1 fled to
Ill and pale he seemed, but the working of a stronger solitude-the phantom went with me. Once, when
power than sickness was seen upon his face. He walking on the shore of the Mediterranean, far from
sat down on the bed close to me. I had no fear of any abode of man, with a broad barren heath on one
him at first, but I shrunk away rather in anger than side of me, and the boundless ocean on the other, I
affright-I was then in a strangely confused state. perceived a little boat rocking to and fro on the
I fell into a heavy sleep, but a low, distinct voice calm waves; two men were in it, and struck, I sup.
soon awoke me, and I beheld the same figure sitting pose, by the richness of my dress, they landed, and
beside me. As my eyes opened, he drew closer attempted to rob me. I slew them both; and,
and bent down his face over mine. I started up, scarcely knowing what I did, leaped into the empty
but the face was still close to mine; and when, ex- boat, and, raising the little sail, put out to sea. I
hausted with the effort, I dropped back on the bed, sailed on, far from the sight of any shore, and began
it was bent over me, just as before. I raised my to hope that I should die upon the wide desolate
hand to thrust it away, but the phantom face could waste of waters. I saw with delight the dark clouds
not be thrust away--it was even as the thin air. I gathering in heaps about the horizon, to the wind-
shut my eyes, but then I felt a damp and icy breath- ward—I saw them spread over the whole sky. The
ing all over my face. I resisted no longer; a voice, sea rose in mountains beneath me, or dashed the
in every tone my own voice, spake to me from lips little boat into chasms of black and horrible depth.
that seemed also mine. I cannot remember the The lightning rushed in streams of pale and forked
multitude of words which were poured out in cease-fire from above; the thunder crackled, and roared
less confusion into my ears, till my every sense was
maddened--nay, till at last I lay wholly stunned
and senseless. Sometimes the voice was loud with
rage- sometimes the phantom placed its hand upon
my shoulders, and bent its face so close to mine.
that I could feel it draw up the breath from my
lungs, and stop their motion; and then it whispered
its low deep curses, till my heart felt blistered by
them:--sometimes the mouth would open widely,
and a loud and insulting laugh came pealing and
rattling down the throat, till I raved with fury-
then again the countenance would become calm,
and beam all over with smiles, and sweet gentle
tones would scarce part the lips; but every word
that was spoken would be to describe some shame-
less event of my infamous life; and then, if my rage
burst out, the face would smile, the voice whisper
even more calmly-calmly-calmly-ay, till the
smile became a sneer, a cold, bitter, heartless sneer.
When I awoke again, I almost expected to see
the face that seemed mine, but was not my own,
bent over me. It was not there, but night had
come on, and the pale silvery moonshine streamed
into my chamber. Some kind hand had opened the
lattice, and placed on its sill a vase full of orange-
flowers: the fresh cool air bathed all my heated
face, and brought with it the pure fragrance of the
flowers. All was silent around me, till, with a
gradual swell, a sweet and solemn music rose from
the organ of the chapel, and the clear liquid voices
of the nuns blended into a rich stream of harmony.
I felt too calm, too happy, and with restless fear I
rose up-I looked round the chamber-the face was
nowhere to be seen. I laid down my head, and a
shower of tears gushed from my eyes. My senses
were soothed, but my soul was not The voice that
was mine, and yet not my own, spake as a friend
speaks who is fearful to disturb one: I am here,'
it said; you shall not miss me long.'

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341

was then strikingly handsome, though I was always too proud to be vain. I soon found that my alliance was courted by many of my noble countrymen, but I never had a thought of marrying, till I beheld a young foreigner, an English maiden of high rank, who had come to Naples for the recovery of her health. I beheld her for the first time sitting in one of the marble porticoes of my own palace, and my heart whispered to me with a tumultuous enthusiasm, that she should become the mistress of the abode she thus graced with her presence. The Lady Gertrude L had accompanied her father and some Italian noblemen to see a celebrated pic ture by Correggio, then in my passession. She had been rather fatigued in ascending the beautiful eminence on which my palace stood, and had sat down in a portico overlooking the glorious Bay. I had never beheld so lovely a being. As I gazed upon her, I could almost have persuaded myself that she was some perfect statue of Parian marble; her delicately slender form--her white garments, flowing over the marble pavement--her fair hands, clasped together and resting on her knees--her pale sweet face, bending downward as if she had been lost in some pleasing day-dream. But there needed not the deep dark blue of her eyes, the wavy hair, many shades darker than that which is called light brown; there needed not the pale rosein peals, which I thought would split the world colour of her parted lips, to tell me that I beheld no around me: but the death I longed for was not statue. saw those eyes turned with the full gaze nigh. The storm cleared away, and the little bark of their soft lustre on nie--I saw the rich, eloquent floated calmly upon the quiet waters. I began to blood flushing her cheek and lip as she spoke to think that the phantom had quitted me, but all sud-me--I heard the voice which gave new sweetness denly I beheld a hand clasped about the side of the to the musical accents of my own sweetest language. boat, and then the phantom climbed up leisurely The Lady Gertrude was not displeased with the atinto it, and sat down beside me. For days we tentions which, from the first moment of our meetdrifted about upon the waveless sea, with a sky of ing, I never ceased to pay to her. dark and cloudless blue above us; the phantom all Not many months had passed away, when I bethe time sitting in silence beside me, with his eyes held the gentle lady sitting again under that marble. fixed on me-never turned from me. At last his portico which looked over the Bay of Naples; and presence was so insupportable that I sprang over- I heard her whisper to me, that I was the dearest board. I was not drowned-I know not how it was, object of her affections on earth. I kissed her pure but the boat came again between me and the waters; lips, for she was my wife, in answer to her expressand the phantom, clasping the side, climbed in, and ions of the tenderest affection that woman ever sat down by me. He broke silence then, and said, felt.-And was it possible, you will say, that I Despair, but not death!" As he spoke, I felt the could be happy? I was not happy; but since my whole face of the sea sinking under me, and with return to Italy, I had seldom seen the phantom. He the sinking of the smooth shining waters, the boat had not left me, but i had almost begun to believe sank also: lower and lower, deeper and deeper it that I had been the victim of some mental delirium, sank, till, at a great distance, a ridge of black rocks and that the being I so dreaded had no actual exiswas gradually revealed, enclosing the waters on all tence. He had only absented himself, to bring sides. The boat itself sank not an inch in the sea, more poignant agony on his return. One evening but the waters continued slowly sinking till the my wife had retired to rest at an early hour, owing dark rocks had risen like the Alps around us; nay, to the still delicate state of her health. I sat down even till I could look up, as from the bottom of a near the open lattice of her chamber, and having narrow well, and see the stars glittering as at mid-seen her sink into a gentle sleep, I took up a volnight. The phantom laughed at the consternation ume of Ariosto, and I began to read. I had read I betrayed. Hell is deeper!' he shouted loudly; but for a few minutes, when a voice spoke to me and his laugh and his words were echoed over and loudly. I looked up, and beheld the form that was over again from the black and stupendous rocks mine, and yet not my own, standing erect before which enclosed us. I knew nothing more, till I me with an attitude and look of insolent defiance: found myself lying amid the shattered planks of the Come with me, I need your presence,' he exboat upon the shore of a foreign land. I started up, claimed, still more loudly; and I looked up to him for a person was lying close beside me. I was for with my finger on my lips, pointing at the same the moment all bewildered, but the person lying at time with the other hand to the bed on which my my feet stretched his limbs, as one awaking from a wife lay sleeping Oh! do not fear,' replied the heavy slumber, and yawning, as he slowly thrust phantom, in a voice even louder than before, 'I away the thick long hair, which had fallen over his shall not disturb her--you know that I do not ineyes, he looked full in my face and said. 'I cannot trude on any other but yourself. We are one,' sleep:-1 recognized at once the voice, the face, he adde, as, unable to resist his commands, I folwhich were mine, yet not my own. lowed him from the room. He led me on in silence, Again I returned to society, but not to the proffi- and we had scarcely passed through the wood of gate companions with whom I had before associated. myrtles behind my palace, when I found myself on was still little changed at heart, but I threw the veil the road from Berlin to the village of Pankow.* of decorum over my public conduct. I furnished The phantom was at my side, but, horror-struck at my long-deserted palace at Naples with simple perceiving whither he was leading me, I stopped magnificence I hung the walls with the finest pic- and stood still, resolutely determined not to proceed tures I could purchase; I adorned the colonnades a step farther. To my astonishment, the phantom with statues of immense price. I bought a valuable did not notice me, and his figure was soon lost library, and devoted much of my time to reading. I among the trees beside the road. My determinasoon gathered around me every intellectual luxury tion was soon changed, when I heard loud and rewhich my immense fortune could command. My peated shrieks; they proceeded from the direction palace was the theme of universal admiration; my in which the phantom had disappeared; they were past excesses began to be forgotten in the contem- so piercing that they thrilled me through and plation of my present manner of life. My family, every one knew, was one of the noblest in Italy. My person (for I had entirely, recovered my health)

I left the convent when I was strong enough to depart: yet my illness had greatly changed me. My former health seemed gone, I was an altered man, and some said that I was mad I was not mad-but the sins of my former life had taken fast hold on me. The phanton was with me at all hours, though invisible to every eye but mine: II was never at rest, for during his absence my existence soon became one agonizing dread of his appearance. He would bring before me, with minute exactness, every scene of my past life, which I would have given worlds to have forgotten forever. He was always, as I had been, the infamous hero of the scene, acting every look again with a truth that harrowed up my soul. If he did but beckon with his finger, I could not refuse to obey him. I rushed into every sort of dissipation, but he accompanied me; and in the gayest circles of the court, even when the daughters of my sovereign were conversing with me, I have seen the two hands on

* *

*

* Pankow is about ten miles from Berlin, and is much frequented by company.

through. I passed swiftly onward among the Ah! I can never forget my holy and humble
trees, and soon entered a little verdant plain, partly Gertrude I had long ceased to pray for myself,
overshadowed by lofty trees. The moonshine then but when I beheld my young and timid wife alone
made the spot almost as light as it was during the in a strange land with a husband who was too vile
day. A considerable part of this little plain was to be allowed even a corner of this fallen world;
fully revealed, and I saw that the herbage beneath when I beheld her perfect and confiding faith in
my feet had been crushed down, apparently by the me, I shuddered at her danger--I prayed for her,
weight of some burden which had been dragged though I did not then dare to pray for myself.
with difficulty over it. Years seemed to fly back, have lain prostrate on the ground in prayer for her,
and to restore a time which it tortured my soul to heart-broken and speechless, for I seldom presumed
remember. I stopped again, and would have turned to address with words the Being whom I had for-
back, when the shrieks, which had ceased for a lit- saken. I could not weep for myself, but for her
tle while, burst out again close to me; and amid my eyes would become rivers of tears Her calm
them I could distinguish the sound of my own name. unsuspecting affection, the mild humility, the simple
I turned-ah! how can I describe the scene! A truth of her character, the heart that was so evident
tall man stood before me-he looked round on me in all her conduct, endeared her to me--I had never
with a horrid glance, as if furious at the interrup- met with such a person before--yet from the mo-
tion of my presence-I saw my own face-I saw ment that I called her mine, one thought had been
my own arm raised, a hunting-knife was clasped in present with me--that I should lose her. Gradu-
the hand, reeking and dripping with blood-a young ally, every power within me had been drawn over
girl was struggling at the knees of the phantom, to this thought, and hung riveted upon it. The
clinging to him with frantic gestures, and gasping nourishment of every hope I cherished was drawn
and shrieking by turns, as she strove to restrain or from the presence of my wife with me. For a time
to avoid the forceful gashes of the gory knife.-II almost forgot the phantom. Had he appeared, I
sprang forward-I flung myself upon the murder- sometimes thought I should have scarcely needed
ing fiend-with all the strength of my powerful him. The dreaded time drew nigh: my wife was
limbs I tore him from his victim--I wrenched the about to become a mother. I seldom quitted her
knife from his hand-but I myself was in his side, and if I saw her cheek change colour, if I
place--Christina was really struggling with me.--I perceived a slight expression of pain on her lip, 1
felt the knife in my own hand, I felt her soft hands was wretched. How often would she take my
striving with me; and her wild frantic shrieks were fevered hands in her own, and look up in my face
only less appalling than the laugh of the fiend, with her calm sweet smiles, and tell me not to fear
which I heard behind me. All this lasted but a for her! Her look, her words, were but another
few moments-I had fled away--But ere I had left pang for me. I could only see in her a victim, a
the plain, the shrieks had stopped me again-What fair innocent lamb about to be sacrificed. On the
could I do but turn back? The same bloody slaugh- evening before the birth of my child, I was, as
ter met my sight: I rushed forward again, and again usual, in the apartment of my wife. She had never
found myself in the place of the fiend, with Christina appeared to me so cheerful, so healthful, so entirely
dying beneath my hands. I tried to escape again, but a creature of hope. I could not help frequently
I strove in vain. I was forced, by some irresistible gazing on her, and saying to myself, It is impos-I
power, to stand close to the murderer, who once sible that she can be suddenly taken from me." It
turned round, looked full on me, and said very will need months to break up, to disunite all that
calinly, We are one. I was forced to see myself intermingled life of mind and body.'-My Gertrude
commit over again the horrid murder which I had seemed on that evening to open all her heart to me.
in fact perpetrated seven years before, at that very With modest and confiding tenderness, she spoke
spot, on a wretched girl, whose fidelity to my illicit of her plans for her child. She told me how she
passion I had suspected. I would not willingly longed to go with her husband and his child, to
dwell on such disgustingly dreadful details, but I her own green, happy England. She spoke of the
will conceal nothing from you.--All that in the days of her childhood. All her conversation seemed
blind, mad fury of my rage, I had before scarcely to breathe of hope, till suddenly observing my grave
perceived, all that I remembered not till I beheld it countenance, she stopped, and the tears rose into
repeated, every look, every gesture of my fury did her eyes. She wept very quietly for a few minutes,
1 behold acted over again by that form which was and then said in a softer and sweeter voice, without
indeed mine--but I saw it all in cool blood-I stood raising up her meek head, Do not think, dearest,
almost as a calm spectator beside Christina and her that I have forgotten the blight which may fall upon
murderer. I saw her white rounded shoulders all my earthly hopes. I do not think a day has passed
gashed with wounds-I saw one of her small hands since I first looked forward to the time which is
split, literally split up from the fingers to the slender now so near, no, not a single day in which I have
wrist, as she struggled to keep back the knife-I not prayed fervently to be prepared for a sudden
saw her flashing eyes shrink and close beneath the call to another world. I think my prayers have
smoking blade; and the dark gore bubble out over been heard, for I only prayed that God's will might
her bosom; and her long hair cling dabbled together be done with me, and I prayed in His name by
in the pool of blood. I saw-No, no-I can write whom alone we can come into the presence of Our
no more of it-And all the while the eye of Him Father. Nay, my own husband, you must not be
who died upon the cross to save my soul, was fixed thus agitated! Indeed, I am never less melancholy
upon me--O! as I write I can scarcely believe that than when I speak of my religion, my hope, my
I have been what I was! O my friend, if your feel-peace I should call it. All my cheerfulness flows
ings are now frozen with horror, if my own soul is from that one purest source,-I am rather wearied
now stupified within me at the recollection of my now,' she added, and would sleep a little while in
infernal guilt, what must that forgiving Saviour your arms; but first,' she said solemn y, dear
have felt, who is of purer eyes than to behold Lorenzo, do kneel down beside me, as I cannot now
iniquity! O branded and miserable Cain, my fel- kneel myself, and offer up a short prayer for me. I
lowship is with thee!-
shall be calmer and happier, as I hear your voice,'
I could not reply to this entreaty. I was silent,
and my wife said timidly, I fear my request has
displeased you, but I thought you would forgive it.
I have never breathed the wish till now.' I felt my
heart melt with tenderness and shame, as I silently
pressed my cheek to that of my gentle Gertrude,
and then knelt down close beside her. Had I been
alone, I think I could have prayed without difficulty
for her; but I now was as one deprived of speech,
I could only cover my face with my hands and
weep like an infant. Nay, my beloved Lorenzo,'
exclaimed my sweet wife, and stooping down, she
kissed my forehead,—' I was wrong to distress you
thus. Rise up: your tears will ascend to heaven

When my wife opened her eyes, she beheld me still sitting near the open lattice, with the volume of Ariosto in my hand; but dark clouds had gathered over the moon, and my features were not visible.

I believe that my gentle wife never discovered the cause of my wretchedness. Her health was so extremely delicate, that the bare idea of her being acquainted with the state of my heart was anguish to me. Had she known that the stem round which she had entwined so closely, to which she clung with every fibre of her devoted affection; had she known how deadly, how cankered that stem was, surely she would have withered there at once!

for me: they have a better eloquence with God than the best words. Oh! my Heavenly Father,' ---as she spake she raised her soft eyes towards heaven, What a happy wife I am!' I rose up, humbled in my soul, humbled to the dust, feeling the deep bitterness of my own heart, my face all crimsoned with shame. I felt then ashamed of even the height of my figure. I felt that my head was too near the throne of Him whom I had insulted and despised. I heard something move behind me in the dead silence-I looked round-The fresh evening breeze had merely overset a crystal vase too full of flowers. Again I started, for I thought I could distinguish the phantom approaching from the farther end of the chamber-I gazed steadily-I had merely seen my own shadow on the wall.

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My wife slept for some hours very calmly; but before she awoke, I observed her whole countenance change, and at last she started from her sleep, and cried out with the pangs which had already overtaken her. I called hastily to some of her attendants who were in the antechamber; and resigning my place to her nurse, I stole softly from her room. Hour after hour passed away, and I was at times obliged almost to rush from the antechamber, to conceal from my wife the bursts of passionate grief which overwhelmed me. At last I heard them move about quickly in the chamber: I distinguished low and shivering groans; once I heard the voice of my wife: Oh, do not think of me,' she cried faintly, save my child! Think only of your lady-of saving my wife! I called out with a low but firm voice. At that moment a piercing shriek thrilled through my whole frame: I heard only'She is safe,' and rushed wild with joy from the room. I soon returned again, I stole on tiptoe into my wife's chamber, she seemed asleep, her face was turned towards me. The nurse looked at me, and raised her hands, as if to say, 'There is now no hope.' gazed again on the pallid and exhausted sleeper; once or twice she attempted to open her eyes, but she was too feeble. I whispered who was near her, and something like a smile faintly flickered over her features, and disturbed their fixed repose. I whispered to her again. I laid my face close to the pillow. On my knees I remained I know not how long, watching for a stirring of life upon her face. Sometimes I thought I could perceive a light breathing between her lips, a twinkling in the lustre of her half-closed eyes. At last I touched her lips with mine, they were cold and stiff. My child had lived only a few minutes.

Many days had passed over me before I awoke from this last affliction; awoke in soul, I should say, for to all appearance I suffered little. I gave orders for the funeral of my wife and child with a calmness that astonished those about me; I followed their lifeless bodies to the grave; I gave directions to an artist of great celebrity for their monument. I sketched the figures which I determined should be placed over the tomb; my wife in almost the same simple attitude as when I first beheld her sitting in the portico of my palace, except that her little infant was lying in her arms. I paid an immense price to the artist on the condition that the monument should be erected in a few weeks. I saw the tomb finished, and placed above the bodies. just as I had directed, with the few words, Thy will be done,' graven deeply into the cold hard marble, and I was satisfied. I then determined to leave Italy. I gave a general order that my palace in Naples and all my other property should be sold. I had locked up the chamber of my wife as soon as they had removed her beloved corpse; and having arranged every thing for my departure, I resolved to spend my last evening in that apartment; I ordered that every visiter should be refused admittance to me, and I then entered that dear chamber: the very air within it seemed still to breathe of her presence,-it seemed yet fragrant with that delicate purity which had been as peculiar to her person as to her mind. The loose dress of white muslin, which she had last worn, lay as when it had been carelessly thrown off, on a low sofa. I remembered that she had been sitting on that same sofa the evening before her death: that she had risen from it as I appeared. I sat down there and wept, for

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