of the worthless wretch who had left her for another. Still she held out against the united attacks of her father and her suitor, until my continued absence,— her despair of my return, and belief in my falsehood at length made her indifferent as to her fate. She yielded to the mingled threats and entreaties of her father, and gave her hand where she could not give her heart.

I need not repeat the many extravagancies I committed on receiving this acconnt of the loss of my first and only love-they were such as to occasion in my mother's mind serious apprehensions for my reason. I should have been somewhat more reconciled to my fate if Bertha's marriage had been productive of comfort to her. It was not so. Her husband, I learned, treated her in the most brutal manner; at times, taunting her with her attachment to me, and at others, even resorting to blows. On my return, his brutality increased, and he would not suffer her to stir abroad lest she should meet with me. Lost as she was now to me for ever, I yet resolved, if possible, to see her once more, to tell her I forgave her, to gaze on the dear features I had loved so, and to bid her a last farewell. I stationed spies in the neighbourhood of her dwelling, to give me notice if she ventured forth. Their watchings were in vain-she never left her home. I had heard that it was her custom to walk in the evening in a particular part of the garden, and I determined to scale the wall and conceal myself until I had an opportunity of accosting her. At the close of a summer's day I accomplished my purpose, and hiding myself behind a large tree, awaited her coming, I had not long been in concealment ere I saw her advancing. Oh, how my frame trembled, and my heart throbbed, as I saw that beloved form move gracefully towards me! Every step, every movement, was as familiar to me as my own. Not a tone, not a look of hers had faded from my memory. I thought of the many times I had pressed her to my bosom, of the thousand kisses I had imprinted on her lips, on those lips which I had fondly deemed would never be kissed by another. All but our former love was forgotten. I sprung from my hiding-place. "Bertha, dearest Bertha !" burst from my lips, and the next moment we were folded in each other's arms. For an instant, she too had forgotten she was another's-it was only for an instant, and then she tore herself from my embrace, and sank, pale and trembling, on one of the garden-seats.

"Why is this?" she murmured. What do you here? Begone, begone, I conjare you. This is no place for you. Wretch that I am-I am married; and I have yielded to your embrace! Oh, fly, fly, if you value your life; if you value my reputation, fly, I entreat you."

"A moment longer," I exclaimed, "a moment longer, Bertha; it is but for a moment. I have sought you for the last time. I shall shortly be on my way to a distant land. I could not depart, without bidding you farewell; I could not depart without one look on her I have loved so long and fervently. Pardon me, I implore you, for we shall never meet again !"

"Is it possible, " said she, whilst agitation almost choked her utterance, "is it possible they can have deceived me? Tell me, oh, tell me, did you not fly with a wanton, did you not say, you spurned my love, and jest with a wicked, worthless woman on my credulity?

"Never, so help me, Heaven! It was a lie, a base, a wilful lie, the coinage of his brain who is your husband; and may curses light upon his perjured soul—” "Hold, hold! whatever may have been his guilt, remember that he is my husband, and I cannot, must not, hear his name reviled."

"Oh, Bertha, will you not hear me then-will you not suffer me to justify myself? As I hope for mercy, I have never loved but you-I have never ceased to think of you. Through all my wanderings, you have been the star that has cheered the surrounding gloom; your arms have been the haven into which I hoped at last to steer my shattered bark, and find repose and peace. I returned, and found you wedded to another! I do not upbraid you, for yon have been deceived, betrayed into this hateful union; but, ob; if you knew the many anxious hours, the sleepless nights, I have passed in the hope of this interview, you would not surely bid me quit you thus, without one kind word at parting!"

As I spoke I gradually approached nearer to her, until my arms were twined around her frame; and when I concluded, she sank in tears upon my bosom. Thus for a few moments did we remain, weeping in speechless agony and blending our tears together. Suddenly she broke from me. "Hark," she exclaimed, "did you not hear a footstep?" I did. I sprang on my feet, and the destroyer of our happiness stood before me. At sight of me, his eyes seemed as though they would have burst from their sockets with rage and astonishment. He shouted for help, and so sudden and unlooked for was his appearance, that, ere I thought of endeavouring to escape, I was seized by his servants. His every limb shook with passion, and turning, with the countenance of a demon to his affrighted wife, with one blow he felled her to the earth. I struggled vainly to free myself from the grasp of those who held me, or I should have taken immediate vengeance on the dastardly oppressor.

66

As I

Fellows," said he, to the servants who held me, "drag this man before a justice, and I will follow you His purpose was to rob the house, I doubt not. live, the rascal swings for it. Away with him, I say!" Surprise at this strange and unexpected speech kept me mute, and casting on him a look of hatred and contempt, I suffered myself to be led away. I was taken before a neighbouring justice, where the miscreant actually swore that he found me lurking about his grounds, with an intent to enter and rob his dwelling. The charge was too absurd, and I was liberated.

This circumstance, and the brutality I had seen him display towards his wife, roused me to madness. I vowed to sacrifice all for vengeance. Day after day, night after night, did I wait for an opportunity of meeting my base rival alone. He was aware of my purpose, and contrived for a while to shun me, chance at length favoured me. I met him in a lonely spot, as he was one night returning from a revel flushed with wine. He started when he beheld me, and endeavoured to pass on, but I effectually opposed his passage. I had waited my opportunity too long to let it slip now he was in my power. "Liar! scoundrel! traitor!" I cried." the hour of retribution hath come at last.

The wrongs and indignities thou hast heaped upon me, shall now be atoned for. I have watched for thee long. It has been my nightly prayer thus to confront thee.

me,

I scarce can brook to treat thee as a man yet I will not play the assassin. Here," said I drawing forth a brace of pistols, which I had of late constantly carried about "here-take a weapon, for by the God that made us, either thou or I must die before we part." He attempted to fly. I seized him, with a firm grasp, by the throat, and stayed his progress. He trembled with fear, and his lips and cheeks were pale as ashes. "Coward!" I articulated, almost suffocated with rage, "take the pistol, and vindicate thy claim to manhood. or, by hell, with one blow will I dash out thy traitorbrains!" Nought could rouse his dastard soul. He dropped powerless from my grasp, and fell grovelling at my feet, shrieking in the most abject terms for mercy, and offering to renounce his wife, to quit the country any thing so I would but grant him life. I was deaf to his entreaties, when in a moment, ere I was aware of his intentions, he sprang up from his couching posture, and fled. Infuriated to desperatiou at the mean and cowardly traducer, I rushed after him and flinging at him one of the pistols, I fired the other at his head. The bullet entered his brain, and he fell dead before me! I stood for several minutes stupified and motionless, gazing on the corpse of my enemy, as it lay in the moonlight, drenched and soaking in the pool of his own black blood. His ghastly eyes were dilated, and seemed to glare upon me with wild and fearful light. Never shall I forget their horrid expression. I fled with speed of lightning-I knew not where. I paused from exhaustion; then my dreadful crime rose before me, in its darkest colours, and, ere morning dawned, I had delivered myself up as murderer.

a

My narrative has now reached its close. I do not seek to justify or palliate my crime, for nothing can justify it-blood should pay for blood. I was tried, and condemned to die; but the disgrace which would fall on my kindred, in the event of my dying on a scaffold, induced me to attempt an escape. My friends furnished me with the means. I cared not for myself,

yet, for the sake of my poor mother. I used every exertion, and I succeeded. I am free. In a short time, a vessel will bear me away in a strange disguise; and I shall end my miserable existence beneath a foreign sky. There was one who might perhaps have even rejoiced at the escape of her husband's murderer; but Bertha sleeps in peace-alas, she died broken-hearted! "The Story Teller.”

The forest wears no clothing now,
There's not a bud upon the bough,
The streamlet cannot flow;
Though all is drear,
Spring-time is near,
And winter soon will go.

And then the sun's enlivening ray
Will chase the dreary snow away;
And winter being o'er,,

The birds will sing

The song of spring-
"Then I shall be no more."

"I bloom upon the wintry snow,
A lesson to the child of woe;
At each rude blast I shake:-
I flourish here

Frail man to cheer,

I bend-but do not break. "In me the man of many woes

-

May see Hope's slender floweret blows Upon the dreariest spot ;Misfortune's blast

Will soon be past,

And soon, like me, forgot."

"Remember, then, when brighter bours Bedeck thy path with pleasant flowers, And all around is gay :

The snow-drop grew
To solace you

In bleak misfortune's day."

MY SISTERS.

THERE are so many minute traits, contributing to form the individuality of a character, that not only do we see amongst men in general the greatest possible diversity of thought and action; but even in members of the same family, born almost at the same epoch-passing through the same routine of education -pursuing similar employments, and acted upon by precisely the same circumstances there exists a diversity, which every day's occurrences more clearly develop. I am not metaphysical enough to account for this fact;-of its existence, I require no stronger evidence than the characters of my three sisters.

The eldest married, very early in life, a widower with a family-contrary to the advice of her friends, more especially of my mother, who very much questioned the possibility of happiness under such cir cumstances. Sophia, however, decided differently: Mr. P. had a very handsome establishment-a suitable equipage a dignified position in society-and an adequate rent-roll. It would be the acme of folly, she argued, to reject all these indisputable advantages, from the dread of a counteracting influence, that might render them available to herself. The fact was, Sophia relied a good deal on her wonderful power over the minds of others; which she judged as applicable in this particular relation, as in those through which she had already passed. So she married; and the accuracy of her calculations were speedily manifested. As soon as her dynasty commenced, it was evident to even casual observers, that her admirable mode of proceeding would render her monarchy absolute. She pursued her course like a steam-boat-preserving a direct line, in spite of wind and current. There was no arrogance of manner, to warn her rivals of the necessity of opposition, and to tempt them to a trial of

strength. Her very pleasant voice never ascended to harsh or authoritative tones; her lady-like manners were never animated into roughness or austerity: yet she had the art of carrying her point, in defiance of every obstacle. She possessed an inflexibility of purpose, that distanced all opposition, and triumphed over every persuasion. She approached her object by so many avenues, that it was impossible to keep them all guarded; and her mode of attack was too various ever to be calculated on-or, consequently, to be prepared against. Yet, even in the very act of pursuing her own inclinations, most decidedly against the avowed wishes and hopes of those connected with her, she preserved her winning mildness so perfectly, that all believed her to be on the verge of yielding to their opinions; and were constrained, at length, to admit, that she acted from convictions rather than from feeling. Here, probably, lay the secret of her wonderful power over the understandings of those within her sphere,― an influence which has been confirmed rather than weakened, as far as regards her husband, by the open opposition and insiduous stratagem that have been by turns employed to diminish it. She is a person, who constantly makes for herself some object to be attained; consequently, she secures that happiness of which human nature is capable-the felicity of hope. Her mind also is kept in a continual state of activity; and whether this be effected by new-furnishing a drawing-room, or perfecting systems of political economy, is immaterial: if the necessary excitement be produced, the cause, with relation to the individual, is unimportant, My sister's sphere of action is precisely that best adapted to the calibre of her mind; and I consider her, therefore, one of the happiest individuals of my acquaintance.

My second sister, my dear Grace, may be deemed less fortunate. She is a fine creature, in mind and person. We need not pause over the detail: critics might refuse the palm of beauty to her, but all must acknowledge the magic of her loveliness, Those large lustrous black eyes, animating that marble complexion--how touching, how expressive!--what a speaking record of sorrows past-subdued, but hardly yet forgotten! Her romance of life was painful; and she may be thankful she has so early begun to live, amidst the realities of the world. There is one event certain,

in the life of every woman. Proud-intellectualstrong-minded as she may be, she is predestined, by stern necessity, to experience the inevitable misfortune of loving. Now, a woman's mental power may defend her against the inroads of any other passion, and her principles are excellent auxiliaries.--But this very power aids the influences of the malignant aspect of the planet of her destiny. Her constitutional tenderness-the artificial habits of dependence, given by the blessed system of modern education-her deep sense of the bliss of being loved, or loving-her gratitude to him who makes her the arbitress of his fate-her desire of communicating happiness--are the train of combustibles, to which imagination applies the blazing torch. This creature, full of the endearing sympathies of her nature -with an understanding that gives her an intense consciousness of the elevated sentiment of reciprocal love— resigns herself entirely to its empire. Her soul lives in the bosom of another-she "joys with his joy, and sorrows with his sorrow!"-and the end is, almost always-shipwreck and desolation.

NO. XLVII, VOL, IV.

With regard to Grace, I never could understand the attraction which bound her to Harcourt in the first instance. Perhaps it was habit, or the consciousness that the stability of her character would be a ballast for the vacillation of his: in short, women generally can give very little account of the cause of their attachments, No matter: during the period of their engage. ment, he found equal advantage in the aid of her fine intellect and decisive energy, They furnished that impetus to exertion which his indolence required. Doubtless he felt the benefits he was deriving; and surely every eye perceived his attachment, and doubted not that its durability and fervour would be the one redeeming exception to his general fickleness. But time, that test of all things, that infallible ordeal, which separates the dross from the ore, the false from the true-time abated Harcourt's love-passion-whatsoever he called it. It boots not now to recount, step by step, the progress of his infidelity. My poor Grace-even her admirable, equally-poised mind, changed beneath this disappointment this bitter draught of wounded affection. Her health was affected -her natural seriousness deepened to gloom-her sweet smile shaded by constant efforts at a cheerfulness not within the compass of her attainment. Harcourt was called from our vicinity; and I began to hope that entire estrangement would effect its usual work. But there are always officious friends, ready enough to sound in one's ear a name one wishes to avoid. Somebody had seen Harcourt lately, and described him as absorbed in the very worthy pursuit of fortune-hunting. From a more certain source, we heard that his constant associates were men of dubious gentility, amongst whom wealth is the grand apology for every thing that is vulgar in mind, coarse in manner, and ignoble in principle. And Harcourt, with the fatal facility of his character, had sunk to their lead-was seeking to ally himself with them by the closest ties. "Oh! why,"

said my poor Grace to me for I was the confidante of all her sorrows-" why can I not teach my heart to spurn this abject creature, as the dust beneath my feet. Why does that heart still ache over the loss of that which my judgment disdains-loathes? This is not

the Harcourt I loved-the husband of my hopes? The phantom of my imagination has disappeared for ever! Shall I doat on dust and ashes, when the living soul has filed? What would union with him be now, but of the living with the dead?" But, though esteem and admiration were gone, Grace's tenderness still clung to him. She had suffered her heart to escape from the control of her understanding; and it was not in the power of that poor thing called human reason to effect a triumph which can result only from a higher source. In the first agony of her desolation, she called upon God!-but he was not in the storm, nor the earthquake, nor the fire. And there was no silence in her breast, for the breathing of that small still voice, which comes with peace and assurance to the wounded and broken spirit.

I am not sure whether, after having deserted a feeling woman, the most merciful thing a man can do is not to marry. I suspect there are very few cases, whatever may be the sense of a female, in which there is not that lurking hope of the wanderer's return, which is just sufficient to preserve attachment, that flourishes, perhaps, most luxuriously in an agitated soil. process of time, Harcourt forged his golden fetters,

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