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horrid night guard thy wretched awful lightning. Sabina did not offspring from real and imaginary dare take advantage of those moterrors! in life, dear mother, thou meniary flashes to look on the bed, wert my beloved monitress; though and had still less power to fly. Yet dead, be thou my guardian ange!!! why, 0 why,' said she, should
A heavy groan at no great dis terror so wholly possess me? I never tanre startled her: she listened at- injured any one: and if my dear tentively: all remained profoundly mother's spirit is permitted to appear sileni, till the next peal of thunder to me, why should I dread to behold rattled through the atmosphere. Sa- it? I am sure that will not hurt me.' bina had been taught to disregard She offered up a short ejaculation to the idle tales of the villagers con that Power io whose piercing eye cerning their cottage being haunted, the gloom of midnight and the blaze yet she was sire she had heard a of noon are alike, and awaited in groan.
awsud expectation the next flash to A sudden thought struck her.- illumine the mysterious bed. She Oh my poor Martha !' cried she; did not remain long in suspense: a perhaps you are ill, and want help.' transient but strong one discovered She flew to the stairs, which she as to her aching sight an object which cended with caution. She listened at put to Hight the little courage she the door of the room occupied by had acquired. A human face, from that faithful domestic: all withir whose colourless lip and check the washush as the foot of night. healthful blood had long ceased to She tried the duor : it was fastened. fw, appeared on the pillow. Sabina Undetermined how to act, she at flew from this chamber of horror, last resolved to go to her mother's and from the house, with precipitachamber, and wait the approach of tion. Any place, any scene, was morning
less territic than the one she was As she opened the door of the room, quilting. The thunder, though it its air seemed to affect her. She could suill rolled at a distance, was abating; distinguish the bed by its white dra-. no rain had fallen, and the rising pery, amid the gloom of the cham wind was clearing the air of its ber. Would to God,' said she, murky thickness. Poor Sabina seat'my mother, still living, reposedd ed beiseif beneath the shelter of an there! how glarily would she open apple-tree, and revolved with terror her kind arms to receive her weary and amazement the adventures of child!'
the last few hours. Every tale she As she spoke, she threw herself on had heard in the village was recolher knees by the bed-side; but what lected, and most religiously believed. pen can describe her horror when, as 'Ah! my dear mother and did she raised her hands in prayer to you endure those hurrors in your Heaven for strength of mind and chamber p? said she. "No resignation to its will, an icy hand der your bloom faded : no encountered hers, anal, by its freezing der your spirits were broken.-touch, chilled her whole frame! She But perhaps the dreadful spectre started on her feet-drops of terror was not permitted to alarm a heart stood on her brow--her head swam, so pure as yours by its horrid apand she was only prevented from pearance.' fainting by extreme horror. The Lost in those reflections, she sat till apartment was one montent enve the storm had wholly ahated, and the loped in the thickest gloom, the next moon arose in cloudless majesty. perfecily illuminated by the most The night air had chilled hes, and
to prevent cold she determined to you, my sister, for a preternatural walk till morning amid those sweetly being, How long have you been at shaded walks, where in the morning Crediton ?' of life she had with her beloved Mary
I arrived but this aftercoon, my so often gamboled by her parent's dear girl. After my long silence, side.
and fearing my mother might have She heeded not the path nor sur been displeased with me, I went first rounding objects, till, suddenly lift to our old friend Mrs. Westwood, ing up her eyes, she beheld, at a short thinking to hear a little news about distance from her, the marble monu the dtar cottage before I presented menterected hy her mother to theme myself to its beloved inhabitants : mory of Mrs. Binson. With amaze but she has married a harsh unfeelment too she beheld a tall graceful ing wretch, who told me I had mur. figure, clothed in white, bend over dered my mother, and his wife should the tomb. Its face was concealed not harbour me, nor any such. Shockby iis arms, which encircled the urn. ed and surprised at his behaviour, I Again the most superstitious ideas turned from his inhospitable door, trok possession of Sabina. The moon but had not crossed the field when afforded but a partial light through
poor Jane overtook me.—" Ah! my the thiek branches of the lofty trees, dear young lady," said she, what yet she could clearly distinguish the sad changes have happened bere since motions of the figure, which were you left us! You see what a brute I light and graceful. The profound have got now; you see how unlike sighs and balf stifted groans which my poor dear Westwood: he would issued from it appalled the soul of not have turned you from his door ; Sabina, who stood tixed as though though you have done wrong, as her feet had been rivetied to :he spot. well as I, God help us both! But But greatly was her terror increased you know if we always did right when the spectre, after remaining for we should never do wrong.' •But some time in one position, sıddenly Jane,' cried I, 'what does he mean raised its head, turned round, and, by mentioning my mother to me? I on beholding Sabina, darted with hope she is well--I hope she has not astonishing velocity towards her. fretted for such a worthless girl as Sabina uttered a piercing cry, and me!' The worthy creature burst into Hud; but the seeming phantom a flood of tears “ Your good mogained upa! her footsteps." As she ther is dead.” O Sabina, what were was sinking to i he ground with ter my sensations at hearing those fatal ror, she was clasped to the busom words! You can never know such, of - her longest rary!
have ever been dutiful and Fly me not, Sabina--pity me, my
ubedient.' sistér. Thave murdered my mother She said you had written to old Mi have destroyed the best of wo Martha, intorming her of her lady's nen. À parricide, a wreich, a death, but had nor mentined a time cursed !--no wonder my sister be for your return. Poor Marika was holds be with horror!"
insensible to the heavy news, being Mary threw herself on the ground, then speechle-s; and that worthy in a paroxysin of grief.
faiblul woman expired yesterday. dcar Mary'!' cried Sabina in a pre Her sister-in-law performed the last mukus voide, pardun me: the pious office of chusing ber eyes, and, horrors of this night have unsettled, after washing the body, laid it on
tear, my weak season. I even touk 'her late mistress's berl; and there was
obliged to leave it and return home, wanting comfort herself, yet wishing as her brute of a husband would not to calm the agitation of her guilty suffer her to remain any longer.'
sister-exerted her soothing powers, •Oh Heaven !' cried Sabina, then and at length succeeded in persuadit was the harmless hand of our dear ing her to retire to the house, and Martha which terrified me so much endeavour to compose her spirits. that I could not remember her fea The morning was breaking, and tures, as I snatch a look at,her clay- the sun rising with unusual splendour cold countenance,' - Shetheninform- after the late storm, as these children ed Mary of the horrors she had en- of sorrow crossed the lawn to enter dured, of the groan she had heard. that house which for many years had • Alas! interrupted her sister, that been their happy asylum, but which groan was breathed by me: little. a few eventful months had changed did I think my Sabina was so near to the house of mourning--the reme. Jane had offered me the keys sidence of death! of our cottage, which I declined
(To be continued.) taking, and walked on to farmer Wellingbrough's, intending to stay there the night; but my reception was so exceedingly cold, and so many A NIGHT WALK inuendos were levelled at me, that I soon wished them a good night, and they seemed glad to see me depart, never asking me to stop, though you
Dy J. M. L. must remember what a favourite I once was there : indeed I was shock “The shadowy veil of night enwraps the ed, and determined to enter no other
No moon-beam cheers the trav'ller on house, but to pass the night in the deserted melancholy shades of our Loud howls the storm yon aged oaks bedear cottage garden. I passed the
Where brooding Horror seems to hold his parlour door, which opens on the
sway. little lawn behind the house. Bitter
Author's Manuscript Poemse recollections crowded to my memory, and caused the groan which alarmed A WALK at night in the dismal my Sabina. I dared not enter the month of February could not posparlour : guilt makes cowards of the sibly be productive of much pleabravest. I knew the corse of poor The ground was exceedingly Martha lay on my mother's bed. I wet, owing to preceding rains; and as knew her love for her murdered n:is- I went the sharpialling shower was tress, and should almost have ex. impelled in my face by as heavy a gale pected to see her rise and forbid my of wind as I almost ever remen:btr. approach. I turned from the house, It was, indecd, a night when Horrus and sought the monument my mo- might be truly said to hold his sway. ther loved. There, Sabina, my emo- The leatless trees were bent almost tions rose almost to phrensy: de to the ground by the violence of the spair and horror possessed my soul. storm; and, had not necessity comHeaven surely sent you to save pelled me, I should certainly have me from mainess and death.'--Her preferred the comforts of a house eyes glared, her limbs trembled. to the uncomfortableness of the tein: Poor Sabina, liule less terrif:d ihan pest. But I was well defended froin when she thoughi her superliuman— the bitternes of the blast by good
cloathing. Alas! how many thou
Of that to-morrow he shall never see!
In this dread interval, oh, busy thought, sands at the sa ne moment were ex Descend into thyself! posed to the same
with Search deep my heart! bring with thee aw.
ful conscience, searcely enough of dress to answer
And firm resolve! That in the approaching decency's demands, certainly not enough to defend their squalid forms of blood and horror, I may stand unmovid; from the keen air of winter: and Nor fear to strike where justice calls, nor
dare when they seek their miserable ha.
To strike where she forbids ! bitations, penury, cheerless penury, Witress ye pow'rs of Heaven, still stares them in the face, whilst That not from you, but from the murderer's not a smile welcomes them home.
I wrap myself in night! To
I stand The following description is, alas! Revealed in noon-tide day!-Oh! could I too often true.
My hand with pow'r! Then, like to you, See yonder shiv'ring wretch so meanly clad,
array'd The pallid son of penury and pain;
In storm and fire, my swift-avenging thunder
Should blast this tyrant. But since face Whose lodging shelters not, whose food is
denies bad; Food hardly earn'd! for small the poor
That privilege, I'll seize on what it gives;
Like the deep-cavern'd earthquake, burst man's gain:
beneath him, Alas! too oft his tamish'd offspring claim
And whelm his throne, his empire, and him The promis'd bread he has not got to give;
self, Though poor, perchance he scorns the bread
In one prodigious ruin!' of shame, And rather dares to die than so to live! The only fire his humble hearth can boast I proceeded hastily along. Neither The scanty produce of the neighb'ring
moon nor stars afforded a single ray street, Glean'd by his children, some few chips at to guide me in my way; no sound
cheered me, save the dreary bark of These are the woes sad want is doona'd to
a distant dog;
• Or where from yon' ancient tower, As I walked, my mind insensibly Perch'd on ivy-tangled throne, caught the gloom of the season, and
Breaking through night's silent hour,
Wisdom's bird repeats her moan.' reverted to the many calamities which the unfortunate campaign, at As I went, the violence of the gale the close of last year, had produced rather increased; and, as is very nato the wretched in habitants of the tural in such cases, my ideas wancontinent of Europe. Oh Heaven! dered to the scene of shipwreck. of thy infinite mercy, long avert How superlatively awful must be the such dreadful scenes from the fair situation of men in a night like this, vales of my beloved country! Long contined to the fragile vessel that grant us to be an example to the bears them on the deep; every thread whole world of unanimity and pa- of canvas taken in; the helm totally triotism! These ideas brought to useless; whilst the tempest drives my recollection the celebrated solilo- them over the surgy surface of the quy of Selim in the play of Barba-, ocean, and horror pictures to their rossa, at the end of the third act, fevered minds the rock that they when the conspirators and himself every instant expect will burst the have determined on the destruction vessel's bottom; the only defence, of the tyrant.
and small it is, that now intervenes
between them and eternity! To that • Now sleep and silence
Power who suffers not a sparrow to Brood o'er the city. The devoted centinel Now takes his lonely stand, and idly dreams perish without bis will offer up
your fervent prayers; his arm alone can save you.
SONNET. Thus imagination mournfully beguild my way:
On being cautioned against wnlking on a head Imagination! ever-varying pow'r!
la:ld overlooking the sea, because it was grea Receive the tribute of a thoughtful mind; qented by a lunatic. Thou, sio canst add to horror's awful hour, Or make thy vot'ry pleasing moments find. • Is there a solitary wretch who hies
To the tall cliff, with starting pace, or slow, When anguish bids the nightly mourner And, measuring, views, with wild and hollow treep ,
eyes, Tis thine to shew to sorrow's streaming Its distance from the waves that chide beeve
low; The seiniin, storm-driv’n on the surgy deep; Whise fancy hears his last sad ship
Who, as the sca-born gale, with frequent wreck'd crri'
sighs, Author's Manuscript Poems,
Chills his cold bed upon the mountai: turt, With hoarse hali-utter'd lamentation lics,
Murinuing responses to the dashing surf? Hoy suited methought was such
"In moody sadness, on the siddy brink, a night as this to the being over
I see him more with envy than with fear: whelmed with misery! every thing He has no nice filicities, that shrink was in unison with the ideas one From giant horrors wildly warring there.
He seems (uncurs’d with reason) not to know inay suppose predominant in such a
'I he depth or the duration of his woe.' mind. «No bird of night noir ventur'd on the wing,
I now reached the outskirts of Ner prowing animal dar'd wander forth. London ; for the metropelis was at Nature appear'd to feel the season's sting, this time my resting place, and the And droopd beneath the venom-u-aged buildings in some degree sheltered North.' Author's Manuscript Pocirs.
me from the blast. It was late, and
the streets were comparatively empty. Too trne, alas! it is, that when
Here and there a drowsy watchman despair bas grasped th: soul of man, going his round, and sleepily mumhe finds a gloomy pleasare in whai, bling out the hour, in a tone that at a time when his mind was the
set at detiance every attempt to disabode of peace, would have caused
cover what he said; or a wretched, him to shudder;
outcast female, in drenched gar• For the sad mind where sorrow rule su
ments, wandering about, scarcely preme
seeming to know or care whither, Will find the storm congenial to its doom: and whose shocking appearance must The darkest night despair will ever deem
rather tend to dispel than to excite Light, when compar'd with grief's heari. reading gloom.
the impulse it was her horrid proThe pensive wand'rer dearly loves to stray, fession to stimulate. Oh woman! When night and solitudo attend his way.' Author's Manuscript Pecins.
lovely solacer of the hours of man!
how is the mind affected by seeing A late pensive authoress, Mrs. thee in this degraded situation! Alas! Charlotte Smith now gone to seek my pen seenis to shudder as I write, in a better world the justice denied to this thou art almost always brought to ber in this, has in many of her byibe' baseness of my own sex. Dissonnels described night-scenes like honoured be the memory of that the present, mourníully yet beau man, who, by plausible pretences, tifully: one that now occurs to niy draws a lovely female into ruin, remembrance will, I am confident, and then casts the withering blosneed no apology
som from his polluted arms, to seek