Tragical history of George Barnwell (1821)

by George Lillo

THE

Tragical History

OF

George Barnwell,

THE LONDON PRENTICE.

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FOUNDED ON FACTS.

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FALKIRK:

printed and sold by t. johnston.

1821.

the

TRAGICAL HISTORY

of

GEORGE BARNWELL.

MR BARNWELL, the father of George, was the worthy and pious Rector of Hanworth; an ornament to ſociety and a bleſſing to thoſe amiable beings who formed his domeſtic circle. An illneſs, with which he was ſuddenly attacked, threatened his ſpeedy diſolution:-mortification had nearly advanced to its laſt ſtage and he had heard with placid reſignation the opinion of his Phyſician. Though he felt no pangs of guilt no dread of future worlds and though perfectly content to ſubmit to the will of his Creator, and reſign his ſoul to him that gave it, yet there were attractions whoſe reſiſtleſs force made him yet wiſh for a longer existence. Around that couch from which was never to riſe, knelt object that awakened in his breaſt the feelings of a huſband, father and friend. His amiable wiſe, too deeply affected to ſleep gazed alternately on her expiring huſband and on those who were ſoon to be the orphan pledges of his love, with the piercing ⟨wildneſs⟩ of despair. Their ſon ⟨a⟩ youth of ſixteen held his father's hand claſped between his own and bent his face over it to conceal his tears. A daughter, who was ſomewhat younger with tears and ſwelling ſighs mingled ejaculations to the Almighty, to ſpare a life ſo dear. At the foot of the bed ſtood the benevolent friend and ſkilful phyſician of the Rector, whoſe ſerene countenance he appeared contemplating with pleaſure. "I could have wiſhed ſaid Mr. Barnwell that my brother had arrived; I would have retired from the ſcenes of this life with leſs regret, had I committed theſe my only cares to his kind keeping. But his own good heart will ſuggeſt to him all I could have ſaid"———Sir ⟨James⟩ Barnwell the brother to whom he alluded entered the room as he was ſpeaking. The Knight after a pauſe approached the expiring Rector and an affecting farewell took place. Tears rolled down the pale cheeks of Mr Barnwell; he preſſed Sir James's hand, and caſt a meaning look on his family; then ſunk exhauſted on his pillow "Think of this world no more my brother (ſaid Sir James) from this moment this is my wife theſe are my children, and all I have is theirs."———"My God. I thank thee," exclaimed the Rector, and expired.

The grief of this amiable family for their irreparable loſs, is better felt than deſcribed. Sir James was the firſt to call the attention of his ſiſter-in-law from the tomb, which held her affections, to the duties ſhe owed herſelf, her children, and ſociety. 'I am a lone man (ſaid the Knight) and with the bleſſing of Heaven have acquired by my honeſt endeavours more riches than I ſhall ever ſpend—My brother, I know, accumulated in another way; his was the treaſure of the mind; a proper poſſeſſion, doubtleſs for a clergyman, but for which his heirs are little or nothing the better. After the loſs you have ſuſtained, my dear ſiſter. I am ſure your inclination muſt be to quit this place as soon as poſſible———I inſiſt upon you and yours accompanying me to my old manſion where we ſhall have leaſure to diſcuſs a plan I have in contemplation to make us all happy." A propoſal ſo congenial to their feelings WAS readily accepted by the Barnwells; and as ſoon as the requiſite arrangements were made they ſet off to the ſeat belonging to the benevolent Knight.

Adjoining the Caſtle of Sir James, ſtood the remains of one of thoſe Cementeries for the living called Monaſteries. One of the Aiſles of the Chapel ſtill remained in its original ſtate, and afforded converſation for all the lovers of romance. Spectres of all ſizes and ſhapes, of either ſex had been ſeen by moon or torch light playing ſingular antic in the old Abbey Chapel: At one time was a Nun at others a Monk, and now aſſumed the terrific appearance of a fallen Angel, dancing along the Aiſle in a beauteous form, to notes of delightful harmony. Among other ſubjects which engroſſed the attention of the company was the Knight's ⟨table⟩ a few days after his return from the Rectory, was the haunted Aiſle, which became a great topic of converſation. After ⟨various⟩ ſtories had been related of different appearances Sir James declared that he would not abſolutely belief in all ſtories of this kind, nor would implicitly give credit to all he heard. "What thinks my nephew?" ſaid he, George bluſhed deeply and replid that he muſt confeſs he had been taught to conſider ſtates of this deſcription as ridiculous ———"Ridiculous! (exclaimed Sir James's Chaplain) ridiculous, young gentleman and wherefore, let me aſk you?" Becauſe being irreconcilable to truth and nature they are beneath the dignity of ſerious argument." ⟨Eliza⟩ Barnwell, whoſe modeſty did not permit her to trouble the company with her obſervations, treaſured in her memory all that had been ſaid concerning the Abbey. When ſhe retired to her chamber the windows of which commanded a view of the ruins ſhe queſtioned the ſervant who attended her concerning the ſtory of the haunted Aiſle; the incongruous narrative of Hannah increaſed her credulity, and ſhe reſolved to pay a viſit to the Abbey on the following morning as ſoon ſhe aroſe.

Sleep did not conquer the ſenſes of Eliza with its uſual eaſe. A ſlight ſlumber brought with it the following dream: Eliza imagined that ſhe had just entered the haunted Aiſle when a tomb that ſtood at the entrance, appeared to rock at her approach. It then became enveloped in an aſcending vapour! the Abbey-ruins echoed the groans of one, as if in the agonies of death! and as the vapour diſperſed there appeared, kneeling on a tomb a moſt beautiful female! Her eyes ſwelled with weeping her hair diſhevelled, and blood trickling from her wounded breaſt, while her hands in vain attempted to remove a dagger whoſe point was buried in her boſom. Eliza's attention to this Spectre waſ ſo intenſe that ſhe did not notice the form of a man who ſtood contemplating with ſmiles the agony of the female, until the ſound of a harp which he touched in a rapid manner, arouſed her. He was remarkably handſome, and his voice, which accompanied the harp was melodious But the fair maid ⟨was⟩ ſtruck with horror when ſhe found his verſes were expreſſive of the pleaſure he felt at the heart rending ſcene before her!——Eliza awoke with terror from her dream and troubled for ſome time whether what ſhe had ſeen and heard were not real. Juſt as ſhe had overcome the impreſſions ariſing from ſo horrible a viſion the night-wind wafted by the caſement of her chamber, the tone of an inſtrument ſo familar to that which ſhe had heard in fancy, that, ſtarting up ſhe threw aſide the curtain, under apprehenſion of beholding awake the viſion of her ſleep. The chamber was in total darkneſs but the ſame ſounds were repeated. She left her bed, and opening the caſement ſhe heard them more diſtinctly, and was convinced they came from the Abbey.——In a few moments all was ſilent and ſhe beheld a lighted torch borne along the ruins! but the night was too dark to diſcern the perſon that carried it. That the muſic was not imaginary, ſhe was convinced; but for what purpose any one would ramble among the mouldering tombs, ſhe had yet to learn. In the morning terrifed by the events of the night Eliza dropt her intention of viſiting the Abbey alone; but unburthened her mind to her beloved brother.

"There is (ſaid George) a ſingular coincidence in your dream with the muſic you heard, we will take a ramble to the Abbey this evening and ſhould there be in the old Aiſle a tomb reſembling that in your dream I think we should relate the whole circumſtance to Sir James. Murder (added the youth) is a crime beyond all other offenſive to God, and if, in our days he diſplays a miracle I can conceive nothing more likely to occaſion his interference than the detection of ſo foul a crime."

At dinner they joined a numerous circle of the neighbouring gentry. It was the cuſtom of Sir James to invite them all without exception once a year. At other times he indulged himſelf in a ſelection according to his taſte. On this occaſion he relinquiſhed his prejudices and there were at his table individuals of as various a call as a circuit of ten miles round contained Among theſe viſitors, was one moſt oppoſito to the Knight in his principles and manners; Mr Mental was ſuppoſed poſed to be equally averſe from all kings and all religions. His dreſs and figure were the moſt ſingular to be imagined. He was of a large make, but thin; his face pale, his hair black, and cropped ſhort in his neck; his dreſs always the ſame, a ſuit of plain brown cloth. He would eat nothing that had ever enjoyed life; nothing in which ſugar was an ingredient; and his drink was water. He never ſmiled, and the only pleaſure he appeared to enjoy was the triumph of argument. The evils of ſociety were his dearest topic, and the climax of his felicity was to render diſcontent triumphant. He had been a neighbour of Sir James's for many years, but ſaw no company at his own house and ſeldom accepted an invitation from any other; whenever he did, it was his invariable cuſtom to ſingle out one from the young part of the company with whom he would abruptly enter into converſation. Young Barnwell was ſingled out for this purpoſe: and they entered into a long diſcourſe in which each appeared to take an intereſt. Mental appeared leſs and leſs diſguſting in the eyes of George, and George delighted old Mental, who expreſſed a wiſh that this might not be the laſt of their converſation. "You are an inmate of Sir James's, I preſume," ſaid he "For the preſent, replied Barnwell; but in a few weeks I ſhall quit this place for London." —— "London! (cried Mental) What takes you to that focus of corruption and folly?" —— "My uncle has moſt generouſly entered into a treaty with a merchant there, a ſhare of whoſe concern is to become mine after the uſual initiation." —— "A merchant! (exclaimed Mental) Can you condemn your noble faculties to courſes of Exchange? Have you thought what you are about to undertake? As you value your happineſs for life reflect; now is the important moment, the period of your exiſtence, that will gild with pleaſure or darken with diſcontent, every ſcene as yet behind the veil of time: I feel a lively intereſt in your welfare, and if you can truſt yourſelf with me for an an hour tomorrow, I will venture to ſay you will not regret it."

A ſummer's day drew towards its cloſe; the well-dreſſed guests of the worthy Knight departed and the family were once more left to themſelves.

Eliza, with a palpitating heart, accompanied her brother to the Abbey. They were at the entrance of the Aiſles; Eliza trembled.——"Stay, (ſaid George), it is dark, and we are far from the houſe; I have little dread of ghoſts, but it is not impoſſible that this retreat may be the rendezvous of beings leſs merciful, and more powerful than mere ſpectres —— Do you wait a moment behind this old column, and liſten attentively: I will go on, ſhould there be any danger, you will hear my cries; then run as faſt as poſſible to the houſe, and procure aſſiſtance." Eliza's remonſtrances on the ſcore of his perſonal danger were in vain, and ſhe clung to the pillar in anxious expectation. A few minutes elapſed; Eliza grew impatient, at length ſhe heard footſteps approaching! —— She left her retreat, thinking to meet her brother, when a form, muffled in a long black cloak, and maſked, met her at the entrance of the Aiſle. She ſcreamed! —— In an inſtant George was at her elbow; but the cauſe of her alarm had vaniſhed. "Surely I cannot be deceived, (ſaid Barnwell), it was a man; I ſaw him diſtinctly, a black cloak and maſk were lying on the tomb, which you deſcribed from your dream; as I approached it, a man, who was kneeling near it, ſtood up, hurried on the diſguiſe and preſenting a piſtol, exclaimed, "I am diſcovered! —— Ere I had recovered from my ſurpriſe, he was gone. —— They walked ſwiftly towards the houſe; the family were aſſembled at ſupper, and the looks of Eliza ſerved as a preface to George's narrative.

I have heard, (ſaid Sir James,) ſtories of this nature frequently repeated; but till now, I own, I never paid a ſerious attention to them; what has now happened, has determined me to take ſome active meaſure towards unravelling the apparent myſtery."

In the morning, the Knight, with the Chaplain and George, ſallied forth, a few armed domeſtics having preceded them. Arrived at the Aiſle, Sir James demanded of his nephew, "Are you ſure that on this tomb you saw a cloak and maſk; that you alſo ſaw a man kneel near it; ſaw him riſe and array himſelf in his cloak? Again I ſay, Are you ſure no part of this ſcene was imagination?" —— "I am certain, (replied the youth) that I beheld all that I have ſtated. Could not this tomb be moved? Were we in the foreſts of Germany, I ſhould be induced to think that it covers the door of ſome ſubterraneous retreat" —— "Aye Sir. (ſaid Joſeph, an aged domeſtic of the Knight's) you are in the right; to be ſure, it is no concern of mine but if I was a Magiſtrate this here monument ſhould be pulled down and dug under, and my life on it, murder lies at the bottom." —— "That cannot be done without the conſent of the owner (ſaid ⟨Sir⟩ James), or ſome better grounds or ſuſpicion than we have at preſent." —— "Do not you own theſe ruins, Sir?" ſaid George. "Not this part of them; all the land on this ſide the elder trees belongs to the next eſtate." George aſked the name of the owner? "Mr. Mental, the cynic whom you ſaw yeſterday at my houſe. What do you start at nephew?" —— "Nothing Sir, (replied the youth, heſitating.) but Mr Mental is a ſtrange man." —— "Ah! God forgive him. ſaid Joſeph.) if all that people ſay be true" —— "God cannot forgive him rejoined the Chaplain) he is an Atheiſt" "He is undoubtedly, a ſingular being, ſaid the Knight) and people will talk, although nobody, it ſeems, knows who or what he is. But I have heard old men, who remember his firſt coming to reſide here, whiſper ſtrange ſtories."

After a fruitleſs ſearch, the party returned home. A variety of conjectures were raiſed in the fertile brain of the youth, all pointing to Mental. He conceived him to be the man he had ſeen at the tomb on the preceding night; he imagined the voice he had heard to be that gentleman's; and built on theſe impreſſions a ſuſpicion to the diſadvantage of his character. Then his heart rebuked him for ſo illiberal a concluſion from a train of mere accidents; he recollected the invitation he had received, and reſolved immediately to viſit him. He kept his intended viſit a ſecret from the family, and merely obſerved, that he was going to take a ſtroll round the village. The reſidence of Mr. Mental was a large old faſhioned houſe, containing many rooms, of which three only were in uſe; one ſerved as a kitchen and chamber for an old woman, his only domestic; a ſecond was the ſitting, eating, and ſleeping room for her maſter; and the third was his ſtudy. George rang at the iron-gate; the aged dame appeared at a window, and demanded his buſineſs Having informed her maſter, the youth was admitted. He was conducted to an apartment, where Sarah (his old domeſtic) told him that Mental would came to him. —— After ſome time ſpent in contemplating the motly furniture of the apartment, George ventured to call Sarah and informed her that if her maſter was then engaged. he would take another opportunity of waiting on him "As for that. Sir, come when you will, you will find him at his ſtudies." —— "Shall I go to him?" ſaid George. "God forbid!" exclaimed Sarah; "I have been here theſe twenty years, and no living ſoul but himſelf has been in that Study——" At this moment Mental entered the room. "Are you really come?" ſaid he. "Has curioſity urged your compliance with my ⟨requeſt⟩? —— Be honeſt, Sir, you doubtleſs wondered how an old fellow like myſelf could at firſt ſight take an attachment to your countenance. Now, tell me Sir, frankly, what kind of a man you think me!" —— "Forming ſoley from appearances, my ideas," replied Barnwell, I ſhould ſuppoſe you a diſappointed man, whom misfortunes had induced to quarrel with the world." —— "The very notions" ſaid Mental, I ſhould have imbibed had I ſeen my preſent reſemblence at your age; for then I viewed mankind through the ſame fairy telescope that you do now; then any delighted fancy ſaw ſuch guests on earth as friendſhip, ſympathy and love. 'Tis deluſion all!——Do I not know it? Have I not felt it? —— Oh!" —— The geſture that accompanied this apoſtrophe, was that of the extremeſt anguiſh. George was affected and Mental perceived the emotions he had caused "Nay, nay," ſaid he, "I mean not to inſinuate that I am peculiarly wretched: it is the common lot, the deſtiny of man.——If the detail would not be thought tireſome, there are particulars in my own experience, that might, perhaps, afford you a leſſon. I have not for years talked of myſelf to others; but if you would like to liſten to my tale, nor hold your time ill ſpent——"

"I ſhould ill deſerve ſo great a favor," interrupted Barnwell, "if I could eſtimate its worth no better."

"You have," ſaid Mental, "a heart of ſenſibility, and a mind ſuperior to your years. Hold! think not I compliment, for in my opinion the poſſeſſing them is a matter that calls for condolence, more than congratulation, But to my ſtory.

"My father was a tradeſman, who was unfortunate in the concerns he undertook, for ſome years before his death; and at laſt broken hearted with diſappointments, ſunk poor to the grave. My mother had gone there long before; and at the demiſe of my father, I was their only living deſcendant. Ere I at eight years old I left my native roof, and became a member of the public ſchool at Eton —— Succeſs favored my endeavours, and before I was thirteen years old, I was qualified for the Univerſity and my fancy already placed me as ſtruggling for academical diſtinction.——But a moſt unhappy reverſe took place.———⟨My⟩ father died inſolvent; and before my fourteenth birth-day, a letter from his couſin, and my benefactor. informed me that, in conſequence of a failure in his ſpeculations, his fortune was impaired and that he could not fulfil his promiſe of ſupporting me at the Univerſity: and deſired me to conſider what trade I ſhould like —— {sc|Trade}} my ſoul ſickened at the word —— Apprentice! horror was in the ſound. I repaired to the houſe of my relation, and informed him as reſpectfully as I could of my averſion to trade. He expoſtulated with me on the ſubjcet on ſuch terms, that at length. I yielded my conſent to his plan. which was to bind me apprentice to a grocer, and I was to repair to my future maſter on the next day. And now let me, Mr. Barnwell, conjure you to liſten to me. The thirſt for knowledge is occaſioned by an unquenchable ſpark, and muſt be gratified. or will eonſume.——Imagine not that I approve of ⟨the⟩ morbid senſibility, ſo often miſtaken by its poſſeſſors for heaven born genius but that active principle which neither eaſe nor pain can ſatisfy, which ſoars into the regions of ſublime inquiry; and that creative fancy, gazing with eagle-eye even on the ſource of light. Let him who feels the heavenly guſt obey its ſacred voice; for I who have contended with its power, know that genius is not to be ſubdued. He that ſubmits to ſmother it ſeeks his own miſery and deceives not only himſelf but his friends. Every neceſſary was provided for me at the expence of Mr. Darwell, my benefactor, and I bade him farewell, with a ſigh to my ſchool-companions. I was received by Mr Nutting, the grocer, and his wife, in a little room at the back of the ſhop. They appeared plain ſort of folks, neat in their dreſs, and preciſe in their diſcourſe, but I ſoon found they were bigots to Calviniſm —— ⟨I⟩ paſſed my month of approbation and with an aching heart ſigned my indentures. When the buſineſs of the day was ended, my apartment was the kitehen, my companions an old woman, who was the ſervant, and her friend, a black cat. I might have employed myſelf by reading, but unfortunately the library conſiſted only of the Pilgrim's Progreſs and a volume or two of ſermons, which at that time was little ſuited to my taſte.

"I paſſed my time in this manner till my eighteenth year, when Mr. Nutting was ſent for one evening to viſit a ſtranger, who had lately come to lodge at the next door, and was now at the point of death. This ſtranger was a man, who, having early in life obtained a conſiderable eſtate had indulged in every pleaſure that a vitiated taſte and corrupt principles ſuggeſted. On a bed of sickneſs his heart ſmote him; chance had led him to the houſe he was then in: the landlord was a ſtrict Diſſenter of the ſame perſuasion as Mr. Nutting. whoſe ſanctity and upright conduct had been ſo frequently proclaimed in the hearing of the dying man, that he requeſted to ſee him, and to whom he made an ample confeſſion of his crimes while he derived from this diſcourſe a pleaſing conſolation. There was only one object living for whom in his preſent ſituation, he felt any concern; and that was a daughter, the fruit of an illicit amour in the Weſt Indies. He had brought her up with the true affection of a father, devoted a conſiderable ſum to her education, and ſhe now reſided as a private boarder in the ſame ſchool where ſhe had received her tuition; and ſuch was the confidence he placed in Mr. Nutting that he made a Will, in which he bequeathed an eſtate in Herefordſhire, and conſiderable property in the funds to his daughter, on the expreſs condition of her reſiding with Mr. Nutting till her twenty-fifth year unleſs ſhe married before that time with his conſent. —— Mr. Nutting was his ſole Executor, and was receive the intereſt of her property. The father died: Miſs Elliſon had viſited him at his lodgings, and had heard of his intentions with reſpect to her. A day was fixed for her removal; and I was ordered by my Maſter to take a coach from Hyde Park Corner to Kenſington and bring Miſs Elliſon to the Strand. She was not a beauty, her complexion was rather tinged with an olive hue, but her features were the index of thoſe inmates of the female breaſt, which charm the heart of man ſweetneſs of temper, and conquering ſubmission, while the expreſſion of her eyes indicated a ſuperior mind. I gazed, and received an impreſſion never to be eraſed, no never. —— Miſs Elliſon brought with her a large quantity of Books which had been carefully ſelected for her uſe by Mrs. Herries her late governeſs among them were the works of the immortal Shakeſpeare. —— Theſe Mr. Nutting ſrictly prohibited his ward from reading, as he determined that none but works of a religious tendency, that accorded with his own ideas, ſhould be peruſed by Ellinor; and I was ordered to replace them in a box and convey them to the loft. Here, my dear George, inſtead of retiring to my bed, I paſſed moſt of each night. —— I taſted every diſh of knowledge, and found every diſh a dainty. The ſpring of reaſon, that had been ſtretched to impotence by the bigotry which I had inſenſibly imbibed in this family, ſeemed, by this accident, to have recovered its elaſticity and once more reſumed its operations to the prejudice of ſuperſtition."

Here Mental propoſed breaking off his ſtory to another opportunity. Barnwell took leave, with many thanks for the confidence he had obtained and returned to his uncle's.

This night George determined to watch among the ruins; and when the reſt of the family were retired, he put on a box-coat, and taking a brace of piſtols repaired to the ruins. At the ſame moment as he entered the haunted Aiſle he heard footſteps, and had ſcarce time to conceal himſelf behind ſome fragments of ſtone, when the ſame maſked figure that he had beheld the preceding evening paſſed along, bearing a lighted torch. Preſently the tones of a harp ſtruck his ear: after a few intereſting moments, a voice accompanied the inſtrument. —— George could no longer reſiſt the impulſe of curioſity. But creeping ſoftly advanced along the Aiſle —— The unknown ſat on a little ſtool near the tomb on which lay his maſk. The verſes which he ſung were deſcriptive of the agony of his mind and plainly portrayed his being the murderer of ſome beautious female. The unknown aroſe ——— Barnwell retired a few paces to a ſpot where he might remain unobſerved. —— "Am I," ſaid the mourner, "ever to endure theſe pangs? O that a blow would end them! Fool that I am, why do I heſitate to try?' He drew a piſtol from his boſom, ſaying. "This in a moment brings me to my ———. would I could ſay my end. —— But no, ſhe did not ceaſe to be when I plunged this ſteel into her breaſt (holding a dagger with a blood-ſtained point.) for ſtill her ruthleſs Spirit haunts her murderer —— ſteals peace from his pillow —— croſſes him in his every path —— and here, even here; while, like an outcaſt wretch, I mourn away my nights, it follows the, and makes a hell!" —— He reclined on the tomb, and covered his face with his hands —— The ſuſpicions of George were juſt, his voice, his his face, proclaimed this murderer to be Mental —— In a few moments he exclaimed, "Away, this dream of horror! Was ſhe not faithleſs as fair? —— O. Phyſician! omnipotent Phyſician! —— Mental art thou turning Monk —— Can interceſſion prevail with the All-powerful more than his own benevolence?" —— Not a ſyllable uttered by this miſerable man, was loſt to George. Three hours paſſed away, during which Mental broke out in ſimilar ejaculations or played on the harp As ſoon as a diſtant bell announced three he removed a large ſtone which lay at ſome diſtance from the tomb, a kind of grave appeared, in which he placed the harp lamp, and the ſtool; then maſked himself, and left the Aiſle. The next morning Gorge contented himſelf with ſaying to the family, that he had been fully ſucceſsful in his reſearch at the Abbey, and that he hoped in a short time to be able to unravel the myſtery.

Various were the emotions that agitated Barnwell, as he ſtrolled to Mental's houſe. When he was introduced into his preſence —— he trembled. —— Mental abruptly began with. 'How diſſimilar the manners of the Nuttings were to thoſe of Ellinor, ſhe ſubmitted without repining or ſullenneſs to their mode of life. But ſhe was no hypocrite ſhe ever avowed her diſſent so their doctrines. Bleſſed with the confidence of this charming woman, my ſituation was changed for the moſt cheerleſs to the moſt delightful In the abſence of the Nuttings we read we converſed together. we wrote and ſubmitted our ⟨performances⟩ to the criticiſms of each other. I looked forward with impatience to the termination of my ſervitude when I imagined I ſhould burſt forth into the world as a prodigy of genius. Having one day wrote ſome verſes in which were theſe words —— "If conſtant my Ellinor prove" &c I unfortunately left it on my maſter's deſk where he found it. —— "Here's going on," exclaimed he. here's attention to trade: Why it is a love elegy, or ſome ſuch ſtuff to ſteal the affections of my ward; but I'll put a ſtop to it If ever I ſee you ſpeak in her or even look at her, I'll——" Choaked with anger, he ſtamped his foot. and threw down three pots of honey, an accident which by no means helped to reſtore him to reaſon. Some time after this the illneſs of a relation cauſed the abſence of Mr and Mrs Nutting for a few days. During this time under a pretence of going to pay Mrs. Herris, the governeſs a viſit, we left the houſe, were united to each other, in bonds which only death could send aſunder. Not to tire your patience, I ſhall merely ſtate that in a few weeks our union was diſcovered: we were both rudely driven from Mr. Nutting's houſe Mr Darnwell, my only friend on earth refuſed to ſee me; and thus were the preceding five years of my life fooled away without advantage either to myſelf or benefactor. Ellinor had, while at Mrs. Herris's formed ſome acquaintance with a Mr. Brookes who was a bookſeller and publiſher in the city and with whom ſhe renewed her friendſhip by the aſſiſtance of the above lady: he found us ſufficient employ in poetry and tranſlations. Ellinor wrote a Novel, which ſucceeded well and competence was the reward of our labor We reſided in a neat dwelling at Wolworth, and only viſited the metropolis occaſionally. At the end of the firſt year, Ellinor bore me a daughter, who took her name. —— But ſee me my young friend to-morrow. — Retire now —— I am not equal to the taſk I have impoſed on myſelf and come prepared to hear a tale of horror."

Towards evening on the following day, a packet was delivered to Barnwell: he retired to his chamber, and haſtily broke the ſeal on a ſlip of paper was written theſe lines: "An event which has occurred this day drives me from a retreat, in which I had hoped to die. I ſhall ſee you no more till we meet in London I ſhall diſcover your abode. and will not fail to call on you In the mean time, I have penned for your peruſal the ſequel of my ſtory —— You will perceive what a blank there is in my affections. If the glow of ſocial feeling is ever more to warm my frozen breaſt it muſt be kindled by your's. Adieu. May you never feel the torture that racks the boſom of Mental." The narrative ran thus:

"Among others who viſited at our cottage was & celebrated Painter of that day. He had a perſon of manly beauty and his converſe was captivating. We delighted in the company of Mr Linmore, and he ſeemed to receive an equal ſatisfaction in our's. —— His paintings were the ornaments of our room, and the marks of his favor in our company. We paſſed a year in the utmoſt bliſs I ever ſaw on earth. —— In the courſe of this period Mr. Nutting died and ſmitten with the injuſtice of poſſeſſing a fortune which Elinor's conduct had beſtowed on him. on his deathbed made a will, by which ſhe regained her right, and we became completely independent. —— My little Elinor was now three years old, and my happineſs appeared complete. ———— But clouds ſoon darkened the ſunſhine of proſperity. Know then, that the ſpecious moraliſt, Linmore, proved himſelf a villain. He came to our dwelling and found peace, innocence and love: he ſaw as fond a pair as nature ever deſigned for each other; what then was that principle, that could excite the vile deſign to mar ſuch bliſs? Oh what a void I felt in my breaſt, when ſuſpicion pointed to Ellinor's diſhonour. Start now, my jealouſy was well founded: virtue was ſubdued. and vice triumphant! One fatal day, pretending ſome hours' abſence. I concealed ⟨myſelf⟩ at home. I ſaw her enter the chamber, and in a few monents Linmore followed. All the powers of reaſon fled: my hand inſtinctively graſped a dagger that was near me; I ruſhed into the room. and aiming a juſt reward at the ſeducer's heart, he ſhrunk from my vengeance, and it fell on the poor loſt Ellinor. The coward fled, and I was diſcovered kneeling by the ſide of my bleeding wife, the weapon ſtill buried in her breaſt. I was dragged by force from the body and confined in my own houſe, under the care of ſome phyſicians. In a few days my ſenſes returned, and I was able to give an account of the tranſaction, which being corroborated by the flight of Linmore, the Coroner's jury returned a verdict of accidental death. Though I was not then deemed a madman, my reaſon ſuſtained a ſhock it has never perfectly recovered.

"Ellinor was then in her coffin: I threw myſelf on it nor would I quit it till my ſtrange wiſh was gratified, in preſerving the coffin-lid as a memento. Another was accordingly made. My cottage at Walworth now became frightful: every room reminded me of ſome happy ſcene and brought my Ellinor to view. My child how it chilled my blood to look at her; I could not bear her preſence, I placed her under the care of a reſpectable perſon, made a proviſion for her education and in case of my death, left her the whole of her mother's fortune. I then went to live in America. Even here miſery purſued me. Scarcely had I ſettled in any degree of intimacy, and felt ſomething like humanity reviving in my heart, when thoſe troubles of which the world knows ſo well broke out. My friend was an American by birth and ſided with the Congreſs. My opinions. though they did not coincide with the rulers of England yet compelled me to reſiſt the entreaties of my friend, to take up arms againſt my mother-country. I would have remained ⟨neuter⟩, but that could not be: and ⟨thus⟩ as ſoon as I began to cheriſh love for my friend my arm was lifted up to deſtroy him. It was then I was compelled to uſe the arms you ſaw at my reſidence. One inſtance of retributive juſtice I met with in America, which in ſome degree reconciled me to the notion of a Providence; the villain Linmore, who had made that country his refuge was in priſon when I arrived there, implicated in a charge of murder. He was executed and diſſected. I obtained his ſcull at a large price. Diſguſted at the ſcenes that paſſed before me. I embraced the firſt opportunity of returning to England, and bought the eſtate of the Abbey near your uncle's. Its diſtance from any other dwelling, the romantic ſcenery around it, and the gloomy walks among the Abbey ruins, accorded with my ſoul's ſadneſs. —— The old woman I retained as a ſervant, had lived ſome time in the houſe before I bought it. I depoſited the coffin-lid and the ſcull in my ſtudy; and from that moment the poor woman would never enter the room.

"I flew for amuſement to chemiſtry, electricity, and anatomy; but grew tired of each. I in general kept cloſe at home all day, and walked among the ruins when others ſlept. Among a few other memorandums of former bliſs, I had reſerved my dear Ellinor's harp —— it had been her delight. Annexed to theſe memoirs you will find ſeveral pieces of poetry, which I compoſed at midnight in the Abbey, they all relate to my dear Ellinor. Let this memorandum ſometimes claim a place in your thoughts. (It was a miniature of Mental, done in his youth; ah, how unlike to his preſent appearance! —— George placed it in his boſom, and reſumed Mental's narrative.)——Now papers, and various publications, ſhewed me the buſtling ſcenes of life in which I gazed an unconcerned ſpectator. Yet there was ſtill one object for whom my heart felt an intereſt: my daughter often ſtarted to my memory, and pained me for her fate in ſuch a world of treachery and woe. I heard frequently from her governeſs, but could never bring myſelf to her. The accounts I received were ſatisfactory till her eighteenth year, when a letter came with tidings that without any known cauſe ſhe had eloped. A ſevere illneſs that threatened my diſſolution followed this intelligence; every effort to diſcover her was unavailing. Thus miſery weighs down my declining years; and I live in torturing doubt as to my child my Ellinor. Laſt night I was diſcovered by ſome peaſants at my favorite occupation in the Abbey-ruins. I will not be a theme for babbling tongues: I have taken an old domeſtic with me and I quit this place, perhaps for ever. —— Will you then, pity a miſerable old man, and commiſerate his fate. Talk of him as little as poſſible; but when his name is mentioned, do that juſtice to his memory, which theſe memoirs enable you. —— Thy breaſt is pure thy ſlumbers are ſweet! may they ever be ſo —— Farewell." Barnwell's uncle mother and the tender-hearted Eliza, to whom he communicated the melancholy tale, united in commiſerating the ſuffering of a man whoſe life almoſt from his infancy, had been marked with diſappointment and ſorrow.

In a few days, George quitted his uncle's hoſpitable roof which ſtill remained the aſylum of his mother and Eliza Sir James had given his nephew three thousand pounds and a further ſeven thouſand was to be given at the expiration of the time for which he was articled on condition of his being admitted into a ſhare of the concern. Mr ⟨Freeman⟩, the elder partner in the firm, resided wholly in the country with his lovely daughter the ⟨amiable⟩ Maria; he was a widower, and not being bleſſed with this child till a late period of his age ſhe was the darling of his ſoul. He committed his affairs to the management of his two partners, Mr. Emery and Mr. Drudge.

For the firſt time George entered the metropolis. From the account he had received from Mental, of the meanneſs and avarice of traders, he was not a little ſurprised at the elegant appearance of Mr. Emry's reſidence. His aſtoniſhment increaſed, when, upon his admiſſion into the hall, he was ſurrounded by four or five ſtout fellows in blue and ſilver liveries. The youth was confuſed, and felt ſome difficulty in perſuading there gentlemen of the ceremonies to procure him an audience of Mr. Emery.

Some months paſſed away unmarked by any event of conſequence. Mental had not viſited him, though George conſtantly expected him. But it was his misfortune to fall in with a beautiful young woman who went under the name of Millwood, but turned out to be Ellinor, the daughter of Mental, who pretended to be deeply in love with him. She got him adviſed to murder his uncle, and ſhe, by the aſſiſtance of an Italian, called Zelotti with whom ſhe formerly cohabited. poisoned her father, that they might obtain poſſeſſion of their riches. —— For which they were all apprehended George was tried. condemned, and executed. Millwood went diſtracted in priſon broke a blood veſſel in her rage and died; and Zelotti poiſoned himſelf.

FINIS.