she became able to articulate some short exclamations of horror and despair! Camplin threw himself on his knees before her. He protested the most sincere and disinterested passion, and that, if she would bless him with the possession of so many amiable qualities as she possessed, the uniform endeavour of his life should be to promote her happiness." I think not of thee!" she exclaimed; O Sindall! perfidious, cruel, deliberate villain !" Camplin again interrupted her with protestations of his own affection and regard. Away!" said she, "and let me hear no more! Or, if thou wouldst shew thy friendship, carry me to that father from whom thou stolest me. You will not-but if I can live so long, I will crawl to his feet, and expire before him."

She was running towards the door; Camplin gently stopped her. "My dearest Miss Annesly, said he, "recollect yourself but a moment; let me conjure you to think of your own welfare, and of that father's whom you so justly love. For these alone, could Sir Thomas Sindall have thought of the expedient which he proposes. If you will now become the wife of your adoring Camplin, the time of the celebration of our marriage need not be told to the world. Under the sanction of that holy tie, every circumstance of detraction will be overlooked, and that life may be made long and happy, which your unthinking rashness would cut off from yourself and your father." Harriet had listened little to this speech, but the swelling of her anger had subsided; she threw herself into a chair, and burst again into tears. Camplin drew nearer, and pressed her hand in his; she drew it hastily from him. "If you have any pity," she cried, "I intreat you, for Heaven's sake, to leave me.' He bowed respectfully, and retired, desiring the landlady to attend Miss Annesly, and endeavour to afford her some assistance and consolation.

She had, indeed, more occasion for her assistance than he was then aware of, the violent agitation of her spirits having had such an effect on her, that, though she wanted a month of her time, she was suddenly seized with the pains of child-birth, and they were but just able to procure a woman who acted as a midwife in the neighbourhood, when she was delivered of a girl. Distracted as her soul was, this new object drew forth its instinctive tenderness; she mingled tears with her kisses on its cheeks, and forgot the shame attending its birth, in the natural meltings of a mother.

For about a week after her delivery she recovered tolerably well, and indeed those about her spared no pains or attention to contribute to wards her recovery; but, at the end of that period, an accident threw her into the most dangerous situation. She was lying in a slumber, with a nurse watching her, when a servant of Sir Thomas Sindall's, whom his master had em

ployed very actively in the progress of his designs on Miss Annesly, entered the room with a look of the utmost consternation and horror; the nurse beckoned to him to make no noise, signifying, by her gestures, that the lady was asleep; but the opening of the door had already awakened her, and she lay listening, when he told the cause of his emotion. It was the intelligence, which he had just accidentally received, of Mr Annesly's death. The effect of this shock on his unfortunate daughter may be easily imagined; every fatal symptom, which sudden terror or surprise causes in women at such a season of weakness, was the consequence, and next morning a delirium succeeded them.

She was not, however, without intervals of reason, though these were but intervals of anguish much more exquisite. Yet she would sometimes express a sort of calmness and submission to the will of Heaven, though it was always attended with the hopes of a speedy relief from the calamities of her existence.

In one of these hours of recollection, she was asked by her attendants, whose pity was now moved at her condition, if she chose to have any friend sent for who might tend to alleviate her distress; upon which she had command enough of herself to dictate a letter to Mrs Wistanly, reciting briefly the miseries she had endured, and asking, with great diffidence however of obtaining, if she could pardon her offences so far, as to come and receive the parting breath of her once innocent and much-loved Harriet. This letter was accordingly dispatched, and she seemed to feel a relief from having accomplished it; but her reason had held out beyond its usual limits of exertion, and immediately after, she relapsed into her former unconnectedness.

Soon after the birth of her daughter, Camplin, according to his instructions, had proposed sending it away, under the charge of a nurse, whom the landlady had procured, to a small hamlet where she resided, at a little distance. But this the mother opposed with such earnestness, that the purpose had been delayed till now, when it was given up to the care of this woman, accompanied with a considerable sum of money to provide every necessary for its use, in the most ample and sumptuous manner.

When Mrs Wistanly received the letter we have mentioned above, she was not long in doubt as to complying with its request. Her heart bled for the distresses of that once amiable friend, whom virtue might now blame, but goodness could not forsake. She set out therefore immediately in a chaise, which Camplin had provided for her, and reached the house, to which it conveyed her on the morning of the following day; her impatience not suffering her to consider either the danger or inconvenience of travelling all night. From her recital, I took down the account contained in the following chapter.

CHAP. XXX.

Mrs Wistanly's recital. Conclusion of the First Part.

"WHEN I entered the house, and had got upon the stairs leading to the room in which Harriet lay, I heard a voice, enchantingly sweet, but low, and sometimes broken, singing snatches of songs, varying from the sad to the gay, and from the gay to the sad: it was she herself sitting up in her bed, fingering her pillow as if it had been a harpsichord. It is not easy to conceive the horror I felt on seeing her in such a situation! She seemed unconscious of my approach, though her eye was turned towards me as I entered; only that she stopt in the midst of a quick and lively movement she had begun, and, looking wistfully upon me, breathed such a note of sorrow, and dwelt on it with a cadence so mournful, that my heart lost all the firmness I had resolved to preserve, and I flung my arms round her neck, which I washed with my bursting tears!—The traces which her brain could now only recollect, were such as did not admit of any object long; I had passed over it in the moment of my entrance, and it now wandered from the idea; she paid no regard to my caresses, but pushed me gently from her, gazing stedfastly in an opposite direction towards the door of the apartment. A servant entered with some medicine he had been sent to procure; she put it by when I offered it to her, and kept looking earnestly upon him; she ceased her singing too, and seemed to articulate certain imperfect sounds. For some time I could not make them out into words, but at last she spoke more distinctly, and with a firmer tone.

"You saved my life once, sir, and I could then thank you, because I wished to preserve it ;-but now-no matter, he is happier than I would have him.-I would have nursed the poor old man till he had seen some better days! Bless his white beard !-look there! I have heard how they grow in the grave!-Poor old man!'

"You weep, my dear sir; but had you heard her speak these words! I can but coldly repeat

them.

"All that day she continued in a state of delirium and insensibility to every object around her; towards evening she seemed exhausted with fatigue, and the tossing of her hands, which her frenzy had caused, grew languid as of one breathless and worn out: about midnight she dropped asleep.

"I sat with her during the night, and when she waked in the morning, she gave signs of having recovered her senses, by recollecting me, and calling me by my name. At first, indeed,

her questions were irregular and wild; but in a short time she grew so distinct, as to thank me for having complied with the request of her letter: 'Tis an office of unmerited kindness, which,' said she, (and I could observe her let fall a tear,) will be the last your unwearied friendship for me will have to bestow.' I answered, that I hoped not. Ah! Mrs Wistanly,' she replied, can you hope so? you are not my friend, if you do.' I wished to avoid a subject which her mind was little able to bear, and therefore made no other return than by kissing her hand, which she had stretched out to me as she spoke.

"At that moment we heard some unusual stir below stairs, and, as the floor was thin and ill laid, the word child was very distinctly audible from every tongue. Upon this she started up in her bed, and with a look piteous and wild beyond description, exclaimed, Oh! my God! what of my child!'-She had scarcely uttered the words, when the landlady entered the room, and shewed sufficiently, by her countenance, that she had some dreadful tale to tell. By signs I begged her to be silent. What is become of my infant?' cried Harriet. No ill, madam,' answered the woman, faultering, 'is come to it, I hope.'-'Speak,' said she, ' I charge yon, for I will know the worst: speak, as you would give peace to my departing soul!' springing out of bed, and grasping the woman's hands with all her force.- -It was not easy to resist so solemn a charge.- Alas!' said the landlady,

I fear she is drowned; for the nurse's cloak and the child's wrapper have been found in some ooze which the river had carried down below the ford.' She let go the woman's hands, and wringing her own together, threw up her eyes to heaven till their sight was lost in the sockets. We were supporting her, each of us holding one of her arms.-She fell on her knees between us, and dropping her hands for a moment, then raising them again, uttered with a voice that sounded hollow, as if sunk within her:

"Power omnipotent! who wilt not lay on thy creatures calamity beyond their strength to bear! if thou hast not yet punished me enough, continue to pour out the phials of thy wrath upon me, and enable me to support what thou inflictest! But if my faults are expiated, suffer me to rest in peace, and graciously blot out the offences which thy judgments have punished here!'-She continued in the same posture for a few moments; then leaning on us as if she meant to rise, bent her head forward, and drawing her breath strongly, expired in our arms." Such was the conclusion of Mrs Wistanly's tale of woe!

Spirits of gentleness and peace! who look with such pity as angels feel, on the distresses

of mortality! often have ye seen me labouring under the afflictions which Providence had laid upon me. Ye have seen me in a strange land, without friend, and without comforter, poor, sick, and naked ; ye have seen me shivering over the last faggot which my last farthing had purchased, moistening the crust that supported na

ture with the tears which her misery shed on it! yet have ye seen me look inward with a smile, and overcome them.-If such shall ever be my lot again, so let me alleviate its sorrows; let me creep to my bed of straw in peace, after blessing God that I am not a Man of the World.