dewed his feverish cheek, no sound issued from his divided lips! We again knelt before him, when, starting wildly from his knees, he motioned us to retire; and finding that I still retained the hand of Adeliza, he struck his clenched fist against his forehead, and wildly cried, "Heaven itself forbids the unhallowed union-it denounces its bitterest curses against the incestuous passion? Netterville, she is thy sister! - -Yes! thy father humbles himself before his children; the Almighty has visited him with retributive justice !-He chastens with a heavy hand! I heard no more Adeliza had sunk senseless to the ground; my curdling blood mounted into my boiling brain; torrent after torrent appeared to rush forward, and oppress my aching heart; my straitened veins threatened instant annihilation; and my distended faculties were were strained to such a violent degree of tensity, that every fibre of my frame appeared ready to snap asunder; my heated imagination conjured up a thou→ sand horrid phantoms to appal me: I felt as if pursued by myriads. of furies During these moments of agony, my once loved Adeliza lay on the floor, in a state of insensibility, and I dared not lift a hand to her assistance; I gazed on her with a sort of composed astonishment, mingled with horror; I looked at Mr. Campbell, my father!--a father only known in misery, only acknowledged in wretchedness! his countenance was the faithful index of his heart, terror, anguish, shame, and a confused mixture of undefinable sensations were there assembled: Reason in these com plicated terrors tottered on her throne→→ I quitted the apartment, and rushed with precipitation out of the house; I wandered wandered all that long night, over mountain, heath, and plain; the rain drenched my cloaths, the wind whistled around my uncovered head; the storm raged with violence, but by me it was unheeded. Alas! I had that within which bade defiance to this elemental strife, and I continued to wander until totally exhausted, "tired nature" sank into forgetfulness, in which state I was discovered the following morning, at the door of a cottage, on the lofty summit of Moncrieff, extended at my length, stiff, cold, and insensible.—I lay many weeks after this confined to my bed, in the delirium of a fever, from which youth, and a good constitution, gradually restored me. The solitude of a sick chamber presented to my imagination the transitoriness of all sublunary enjoyments, and I endeavoured to arm my mind with fortitude, to bear the part assigned me with pa tience and resignation: the languor which illness had left on my frame, insensibly calmed the impetuosity of my temper, and I flattered myself I should soon think of Adeliza with composure, and true brotherly affection: I strove to subdue my irritable feelings-I endeavoured to look beyond this world for consolation, and support; but, alas! as the body gained strength, the effervescence of the mind returned, and with it returned also, the painful remembrance of lost happiness. The good inhabitants of the cottage were venerable for their years, and more so for their virtues; they were both far advanced in life--yet my worthy host of fered himself to be the bearer of a letter to my family; "For they must," said he," be necessarily alarmed at your long and unaccountable absence." In compliance with the good man's advice I attempted to pen a letter to those those friends I had determined never more to behold, at least, for many years; and that this last effort might afford them consolation, it was necessary that it should be written with coherency and composure. Ah! vain was the hope of attaining composure whilst writing to Adeliza!-to Mr. Campbell my father! What could P say? my hand trembled, my heart palpitated, my ideas were confused, my aching head throbbed with spasmodic convulsions-yet the effort must be made, and after many alterations, and much hesitation, I wrote as follows: Adeliza, my sister, my friend! in what language shall I address thee? separated as we are, by an awful, and insurmountable barrier, how shall I speak peace to thy fainting spirite?— Shall I tell thee I am happy and resigned?—Alas, no! I will not, I dare |