to accompany him to Tregunter, the residence of his father.

"I felt," says she, "a severe pang in the idea of quitting my adored mother at a moment when I should stand so much in need of a parent's attentions: my agony was extreme: I fancied that I never should behold her more; that the harshness and humiliating taunts of my husband's kindred, would send me prematurely to the grave: that my infant would be left among strangers; and that my mother would scarcely have fortitude sufficient to survive me. Then I anticipated the inconvenience of so long a journey, for Tregunter. House was within a few miles of Brecon. I dreaded to encounter the scornful vulgarity and the keen glances of Miss Betsy and Mrs. Molly.› I considered all these things with horror; but the propriety of wedded life commanded the sacrifice, and I readily

consented to make it.

With tender regret, with agonizing presentiments, I took leave of my mother and my brother. Such a parting would but mock the powers of lan. guage! My delicate situation, my youth, my af. fection for my best of mothers; all conspired to augment my sorrow.-but a husband's repose, a husband's liberty, were at stake; and, my CREATOR can bear witness, that had I been blessed with that fidelity and affection which I deserved, my heart was disposed to the observance of every duty, every claim which would have embellished domestic propriety.

We set out for Tregunter. On our arrival there, I instantly perceived that our misfortunes had outstripped our speed. Miss Robinson scarcely bade us welcome; and Molly was peevish, even to insulting displeasure.

Mr. Harris was from home when we arrived. But he returned shortly after. His greeting was

harsh and unfeeling. "Well! So you have escaped from a prison, and now you are come here to do penance for your follies! Well! and what do you want?" I could not reply. I entered the house, and instantly hastened to my old chamber, where my tears gave relief to that heart which was almost bursting with agony.

Still Mr. Robinson conjured me to bear his uncle's wayward temper patiently. I did; though every day I was taunted with idle and inhuman questions such as, "How long do think that I will support you? What is to become of you in a prison? What business have beggars to marry?" With many others, equally feeling and highminded!

The mansion of Tregunter presented but few sources of amusement for the female mind. Mr. Harris had acquired a considerable fortune in trade, and however the art of accumulating wealth had been successfully practised, the finer pursuits of mental powers had been totally neglected. Books were unknown at Tregunter, excepting a few Magazines or periodical publications, which at different periods Miss Robinson borrowed from her juvenile neighbours. There was, however, an old. spinnet in one of the parlours. Music had been one of my early delights, and I sometimes vainly endeavoured to draw a kind of jingling harmony from this time-shaken and neglected instrument. These attempts, however, frequently subjected me to insult. I had better think of getting my bread; women of no fortune had no right to follow the pursuits of fine ladies. Tom had better married a good tradesman's daughter than the child of a ruined merchant who was not capable of earning a living." Such were the remarks of my amiable and enlightened father-in-law!"

Vol. 15. No. 60.

C

One day, I particularly remember, Mr. Harris had invited a large party to dinner, John and Charles Morgan, Esqrs. members of parliament, with an old clergyman of the name of Jones, and several others were present. I was then within a fortnight of my perilous moment. One of the company expressed his satisfaction that I was come to give Tregunter a little stranger; and turning to Mr. Harris, added, " you have just finished your, house in time for a nursery."

"No, no," replied Mr. Harris laughing, "they came here because prison doors were open to receive them." I felt my face redden to scarlet: every person present seemed to sympathize in my chagrin, and I was near sinking under the table with confusion. Mr. Robinson's indignation was evident; but it was restrained by duty as well as by necessity.

The manor-house was not yet finished; and a few days after our arrival Mr. Harris informed me that he had no accommodations for my approaching confinement. Where was I to go? was the next question. After many family consultations, it was decided that I should remove to Treveccahouse, about a mile and a half distant, and there give to this miserable world my first born darling.

I removed to Trevecca; it was a spacious mansion at the foot of a stupendous mountain, which, from its form, was called the Sugar-loaf. A part of the building was converted into a flannel manufactory, and the inhabitants were of the Huntingdonian school. Here I enjoyed the sweet repose of solitude: here I wandered about woods entangled by the wild luxuriance of nature, or roved upon the mountain's side, while the blue vapours floated round its summit. O, God of Nature! Sovereign of the universe of wonders! in those interesting moments how fervently di adore thee!

How often have I set at my little parlour window and watched the pale moonbeams darting amidst the sombre and venerable yew trees that shed their solemn shade over the little garden. How often have I strolled down the woody paths, span→ gled with the dew of morning, and shaken off the briery branches that hung about me. How tran

quil did I feel, escaped from kindred tyranny, and how little did I regret the busy scenes of fashionable folly. Unquestionably the Creator formed me with a strong propensity to adore the sublime and beautiful of his works! But it has never been my lot to meet with an associating mind, a congenial spirit, who could, (as it were abstracted from the world,) find an universe in the sacred intercourse of soul, the sublime union of sensibility.

At Trevecca-house I was tranquil, if not perfectly happy. I there, avoided the low taunts of uncultivated natures, the insolent vulgarity of pride, and the overbearing triumphs of a family, whose loftiest branch was as inferior to my stock as the small weed is beneath the tallest tree that overshades it. I had formed an union with a family who had neither sentiment nor sensibility: I was doomed to bear the society of ignorance and pride: I was treated as though I had been the most abject of beings, even at a time when my conscious spirit spared as far above their powers to wound it, as the mountain towered over the white battlements of my then solitary habitation.

After my removal to Trevecca I seldom saw Miss Robinson or Mrs. Molly; Mr. Harris never called on me; though I was not more than a mile and a half from Tregunter. At length the expected, though, to me, perilous moment arrived, which awoke a new and tender interest in my bosom, which presented to my fondly beating heart my child, my Maria. I cannot describe the sensa

tions of my soul at the moment when I pressed the little darling to my bosom, my maternal bosom ; when I kissed its hands, its cheeks, its forehead, as it nestled close to my heart, and seemed to claim that affection which has never failed to warm it. She was the most beautiful of infants! I thought myself the happiest of mothers: her first smile appeared like something celestial-something ordained to irradiate my dark and dreary prospect of existence.

Two days after my child was presented to this world of sorrow, my nurse, Mrs. Jones, a most excellent woman, was earnestly desired by the people of the -manufactory to bring the infant among them: they wished to see the " young squire's baby, the little heiress to Tregunter." It was in vain that I dreaded the consequences of the visit, for it was in the month of October: but Mrs. Jones assured me that infants in that part of the world were very frequently carried into the open air on the day of their birth: she also hinted, that my refusal would hurt the feelings of the honest people, and wear the semblance of pride more than maternal tenderness. This idea decided my acquiescence; and my little darling, enveloped in the manufacture of her own romantic birth place, made her first visit to her kind but unsophisticated countrywomen.

No sooner did Mrs. Jones enter the circle, than she was surrounded by the gazing throng. The infant was dressed with peculiar neatness, and nothing mortal could appear more lovely. A thousand and a thousand blessings were heaped upon the "beiress of Tregunter," for so they fancifully called her a thousand times did they declare that the baby was the very image of her father.

Mrs.

Jones returned to me: every word she uttered soothed my heart: a sweet and grateful glow, for the first time, bespoke the undescribable gratifica