THE MALEDICTED. 539 



her clasped and uplifted hands. In an instant, the obedient girls com- 

 plied. I saw my beloved Marian kneeling by her mother her eyes 

 streaming with tears,- and her thin white hands trembling in the air ; 

 but whether in an agony of remorse or supplication I knew not. My 

 heart died within me ; I turned from the appalling spectacle and fled ! 



There was not one word of this fearful malediction that did not sink 

 like lead upon my soul. Pale and trembling, I passed through the 

 streets like the spectral perpetrator of some ghastly murder. Men 

 seemed to avoid me as if by an instinct that should say, " come not into 

 collision with the accursed \" I entered my chambers I turned the 

 key with feverish precipitancy I threw myself upon my couch, buried 

 my face in my hands, and wept long and bitterly. 



When I next came forth among mankind, I was scorned ; remonstrance 

 or refutation was of no avail. I was loathed and shunned by all who knew 

 me. I thought my heart would break as I returned once more to the 

 solitude of my chamber, to ascertain if I might devise a mode of 

 relieving my soul from the incubus which dwelt in fiend-like authority 

 over it. I sought relief in books in silent communings with the 

 master-minds, whose very words have been termed sparks of immor- 

 tality. I sought to forget the real world in the throned grandeur of the 

 ideal. But the books in which I formerly delighted had lost their 

 charm; or rather, I had lost the relish which made those charms 

 engaging. I saw that books contained but records of oppression and 

 histories of wrongs; huge catalogues of crime, and infamy, and perse- 

 cution, which made the cheek blush and the heart sick for the share 

 they had in humanity. But, above all, I was constantly reminded 

 alas ! I stood in no need of remembrancers ! of him with whom these 

 books had been perused ; and that was enough to turn every enjoyment 

 to the bitterness of gall. 



I had risen from my fruitless occupation, and had stepped to the 

 window. The busy world was moving on as if there were neither grief 

 nor duplicity, nor oppression known amongst men. The common 

 labourer bore his burden happily, and the humble artizan held up his 

 head with an air of cheerfulness. But they were unstricken the shaft 

 had not reached them ; the iron had not entered their souls. They had 

 not been maligned like me oh ! agony and frenzy they had not been 

 cursed like me ! How unhappy is the heart which even the apparent 

 felicity of others render wretched. I was turning in disgust from the 

 living world, when my attention was arrested by the approach of a 

 funeral. " Ah !' I said, tf thou art happy, whoever thou art ! The last 

 pang is over ; and if even disgrace should attach to thy memory, thou 

 must still remain in deep unconsciousness of the appalling fact." It 

 drew more near it was the funeral of a female. It came nearer she 

 must have been beloved nay adored ; the very attendants were in tears 

 they buried their faces in their handkerchiefs, and their solemn steps 

 and heaving bosoms told that they were not feigning a sorrow which 

 they did not feel. 



I was interested. Perhaps she was snatched away in the bloom of 

 beauty and innocence, when life and hope was in her eye, and health 

 and vigour in her step. Perhaps she had lingered till release became a 

 blessing. The procession was suddenly impeded by the approach of 

 some vehicles ; and the bearers paused beneath my window the wind 



