, the sound of the well-known rookery gave that sentimental
tinge to the varying sensations of my active soul, which only served to
heighten the lustre of the luxuriant scenery. But, spying, as I advanced,
the spire, peeping over the withered tops of the aged elms that composed
the rookery, my thoughts flew immediately to the church-yard, and tears
of affection, such was the effect of my imagination, bedewed my mother's
grave! Sorrow gave place to devotional feelings. I wandered through the
church in fancy, as I used sometimes to do on a Saturday evening. I
recollected with what fervour I addressed the God of my youth: and once
more with rapturous love looked above my sorrows to the Father of nature.
I pause--feeling forcibly all the emotions I am describing; and
(reminded, as I register my sorrows, of the sublime calm I have felt,
when in some tremendous solitude, my soul rested on itself, and seemed to
fill the universe) I insensibly breathe soft, hushing every wayward
emotion, as if fearing to sully with a sigh, a contentment so extatic.

"Having settled my father's affairs, and, by my exertions in his favour,
made my brother my sworn foe, I returned to London. My husband's conduct
was now changed; I had during my absence, received several affectionate,
penitential letters from him; and he seemed on my arrival, to wish by his
behaviour to prove his sincerity. I could not then conceive why he acted
thus; and, when the suspicion darted into my head, that it might arise
from observing my increasing influence with my uncle, I almost despised
myself for imagining that such a degree of debasing selfishness could
exist.

"He became, unaccountable as was the change, tender and attentive; and,
attacking my weak side, made a confession of his follies, and lamented
the embarrassments in which I, who merited a far different fate, might be
involved. He besought me to aid him with my counsel, praised my
understanding, and appealed to the tenderness of my heart.

"This conduct only inspired me with compassion. I wished to be his
friend; but love had spread his rosy pinions, and fled far, far away; and
had not (like some exquisite perfumes, the fine spirit of which is
continually mingling with the air) left a fragrance behind, to mark where
he had shook his wings. My husband's renewed caresses then became hateful
to me; his brutality was tolerable, compared to his distasteful fondness.
Still, compassion, and the fear of insulting h