dismay at untimely and early death, caused perhaps by that which bedims all the fairest of earth's gems, blighted affection as mine had been; my attention was arrested by one tomb, of which ruthless time had been careful, his sacrilegious wings having scarcely tainted it; my eye rested upon the inscription, a cold perspiration came over me, I sank upon the earth, that spot was the resting-place of those who had been more than the world to me, and without whom the world was as a blank space for me to roam upon, without hope or purpose, with nought save deep anguish, which increased as reflection and recollection again came across my unhappy mind.

I remember well, that this accident of so suddenly meeting with my parent's grave, when oblivion of all the circumstances regarding them, and their existence, had taken apparent possession of my mind, that I had a long and dangerous illness; and during this period, that I formed a most dreadful, and diabolical project, of murdering the individual who had caused all our misery, and had profited by our misfortunes. It appeared to me, in my starts of mental distress, that this would be a righteous act, and was enjoined by every tie that I deemed sacred; that I was to take every precaution for secretly carrying into sure effect the unhallowed project, and that every exertion should be used to procure the necessary instruments, and to obtain the needful information prior to the attempt being made. This was no very easy task, for I had an attendant who watched me, and the chamber where I was confined was highly situated from the ground below. It is said that cunning, and malice, form striking features, in the characters of insane persons, and those two qualities were almost the only features of mind left me, to work out my purpose. I found it was requisite, first, to ascertain whether the object of my revenge was at the baronial castle, and then, from other sources to discover, which of the sleeping chambers he was likely to occupy. In order fully to inform myself upon these points, some time must necessarily elapse, and in the meanwhile my imagination was madly dreaming, of the glory, of thus satiating my ire upon the whole family, who had so ruthlessly affected our fortunes. Of the persons who visited me, were some of the domestics of the castle, and from them I learned that the Lord of — — intended for some days to take up his abode in the suite of apartments adjoining the small chapel of St., which was at the south portion of the building, and in some degree detached from the more habited part of the residence. The measure of revenge now appeared full to the brim, and it was only necessary to use caution to carry this subtle and horrible plot into certain execution. I remember well the description of evening, as I gazed from my latticed window upon the wide country before me. The air was perfectly still; the

I

voice of no human being breathed; a shade of deep gloom was upon the hills, that deep darkness pervaded, which has been appropriately represented as "darkness visible," and which usually precludes the mercurial moonlight, causing a mysterious solemnity peculiarly adapted for carrying into effect deeds which shun the glare of day, and may therefore be termed the tragic hour of night, and worthy of the poetic crayon of our gifted countrywoman, Mrs. Hemans. I had bruised the field-poppy, and mixed its liquid in the evening potion of my attendant, and consequently she was deadly sleeping in an adjoining room. drew from under the clothes of my bed a twisted line, made by the destruction of one of my blankets, and having fixed it firmly to a bar of the window, I slid gently and silently down to the garden below, and in a few minutes attained a narrow pathway which led in a direct line to the castle walls. The feeling of once more being at liberty did not cause me to lose sight of the object I had in view, in making my escape; nor if, for one moment it had done so, would the dream have been dispelled, for every step I took, was an evidence of my wrongs: there was the mossy bank where I had so often laid me down in childhood; there were the vallies where I had gathered the lovely violets and the early primrose; but sadness and misery were now my portion upon the spot which had been my birthright. The flame within my feverish breast burned more fiercely instead of being subdued, and it prompted me and hurried me onwards to complete my purpose. I crossed a small rivulet in which my tiny fingers had formerly so playfully and happily sprinkled, and it now appeared to flow heavily forward, streaked with red gore, which wound its way sluggishly along, and my eyes gloated upon it with a wildness of feeling, which makes me now shudder to reflect upon. After resting my wearied frame, and having arrived at the ruins adjoining that part of the castle in which I had previously informed myself the Baron aboded, I crept up one of the crevices which I knew would lead me into the main part of the building, and, from being well acquainted with the localities, I could have no difficulty in tracing my way to the chamber where I supposed the object of my revenge would repose. I lighted a candle of rush-grass which I had brought purposely with me, and it was well that I had done so, for, in turning an angle of the foundation of the castle, I had nearly been precipitated into one of the dungeons below, the trapdoor of which had been left open, and upon the brink of the aperture, I just caught a glimpse of my danger, in time to save myself from the dark abyss. I had nearly fainted; but it was no moment for aught but the one purpose of slaughter, and I renewed my energies in the time for reflection which the incident afforded me. I sought first the hall wherein the armour and weapons of past days were deposited; for it was an idea

greedily seized by my mind, that the instrument of destruction
should be one of those which his ancestors had wielded. I
searched for some minutes in vain for that which well suited
me, and I then found a small dark ebony handled dirk, cu-
riously carved and inlaid with gold; a gem studded the end of
the gripe, and it was double edged, and from the condition of
its appearance, it was evidently deemed a relic of much family
value. I grasped it firmly, and held it before me in ecstacy,
and almost with that reverence of feeling with which the soldier
regards the relics of a campaign, or the blade that has served
him in it; but mine was about to be serviceable, while the
veteran's had been the tried and trusty servant of the purpose.
I startled as the glare of the lamp fell upon the dark features of
an old painting, which seemed to frown upon me as I passed on,
and the armour shook at me as if it anticipated a fearful deed,
but
my soul's well-wrought determination was not to be thwarted
with childish fancies. I gloried at the idea that another victim
was about to be consigned to the family obsequies, and to add
his relics to the heaps before me. As I gradually approached
the chamber where my victim reposed, I had some consciousness
of the desperate and bloody deed, for my footsteps at one time
were faltering, and then again they were hurried, feeling, as I
did,

"If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly."

I conquered the irresolution of the moment, and advanced to the door of the fatal chamber; a deep breathing caught my ear, I listened, all was well, my victim was in a sound repose. The flower and chivalry of with its pomp, its unjust power, shall satiate the ire of the injured orphan, thought I. A hideous hysteric laugh was about to burst from me, but I subdued the inclination, and with stealthy steps approached the side of the couch. The light fell upon the pale features of my unconscious victim; his raven hair flowed loosely over the pillow, the neck and bosom lay partially bare, but an infant child in innocent sleep rested in his arms; its little head, clustered with auburn curls, reclining upon the father with its hand upon his breast. I muttered to myself, thou murderer of my parents, thou despoiler of the orphan's portion, dost thou fancy these walls are to you protection against guilt and injuries? do you think to close the gate, and bar the door against the right of the orphan with impunity? could the stony heart but know that eternity yawns but to receive his guilty soul, and that his child in all its loveliness might also be another expiation, and sacrificed for the wrongs inflicted on the powerless and friendless: what is now your dream? is it of ambition, the grandeur of your family, the power of your mind, or the splendour of your name and fame?

All these shall sink, and the film of your departing soul shall overshadow the delusion in the agony of your dissolution. The funeral knell is about to be tolled; the ties of this world are about to be dissolved, and they whom most you love shall shriek upon your mangled corpse, and all this for the orphan's wrong. I raised the weapon high above me, and looked upon the victim, and grinned with demoniacal delight. Now hath arrived the moment long desired and ardently petitioned for in my impious prayers to the Almighty. The parent dies with the child upon his bosom. Oh! this is deep, deadly, revenge! he dies with all he most loves, fondly, and in delusion safely grasped around him. The instrument of death was about to descend, the deed was on the eve of accomplishment, when the poor cherub, in its sympathy for its parent's safety, seemed to clasp him more firmly; it raised one of its little arms to the neck of its father, and drew an infant sigh. An infant's sigh! In that moment my arm was powerless; I was unnerved; I rushed from the room, burst into an overwhelming flood of tears, and the light of dawn found me wretched, weak, and almost paralysed in frame, on the margin of the lake of I awoke as from a deep sleep, with the horrible recollection of the nightly incident as a dream, awfully impressed on my mind. My heart was bursting; my weak body was chilled by the night air, and I had no home, no one to love and to protect me with kindness, I had no friend in the wide world; those whom I formerly possessed have died or deserted me; my family, once honourable and numerous, are now no more, the ties that bound them are all dissolved, the glory of their deeds are now almost forgotten, I am the last of those who have been benefactors to their country; and what am I? Alas! to think that I am a poor maniac, subsisting upon the bounty of others, the slightest return of reason bringing with it the unhappy consciousness of misery, more dreadful than imagination can realize. I have yet much to learn, though experience hath bitterly taught me how futile are the aspirations of youth; but the dissolution of this world's charms may have been a gain to my soul, "I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.'

There is but one refuge left me whither I can flee: the mountain-roe seeketh not the glade; the wounded bird forsakes its mate; and the broken heart hath but one resting place.

Again, with the freshness and energetic spirit of youth, we shift the scene of life, to dissolve the forebodings of an anxious mind, and recall the bright characters of pleasure, which, as by the magic wand of an Ariel, are summoned by the elasticity of genius, or created by the delusive vision of hope. Think of love and beauty; of the union of gentleness and purity; of affection, rekindled by the memory of her whose every word imparts

delight, and whose expression beams as a star in the still hour of night; the world, the whole world excluded from the idea, in fondly contemplating the one object whose light is life. Let the kind reader participate in these my feelings, and he will perceive by what transition of mind the grave tenor of the foregoing pages so suddenly hath yielded to the gay impulses of the heart; by what power unseen, yet ever so predominant and prevailing in almost every action of life, by the exuberance of devotion, we are led on to joyous ecstacy. In thus expressing myself, I have, contrasted my own feelings with those of the reader of the "Maniac Maid," for I again possess the presence and society of her whom I have designated "my beloved Emily."

TRUE HAPPINESS.

By the late EDWARD WILLIAMS.

1.

The wrinkled miser loves to dwell
With Av'rice in her murky cell,

To Care consigns his narrow soul;
Light-hearted youths, in merry vein,
Assemble sportive o'er the plain,

Whilst others quaff the mantling bowl;
We mortals all, in varied scenes, employ
The visionary thought in blind pursuit of joy.

II.

I seek nor wealth, nor youthful play,
Nor sottish Mirth's unmeaning lay,

But, on my native plains, alone,

I walk along the silent mead,
And tune in peace my rural reed,

To all the busy world unknown;

I quit the crowd, fly far from hateful noise,

And feel my thoughtful muse the source of endless joys.

III.

Secluded thus, in calm content,
On close pursuits of nature bent,
I tuneful numbers lead along,

Whilst warm enamour'd thoughts arise;
Come, Virtue, from thy native skies!

Be thou my theme of raptur'd song!
We feel no joy, from sordid Earth refin'd,

But where thy laws illume, and rule the willing mind.