sedative influence of gentle manners, and regular habits in her attendants. He induced Mary, in whose judiciousness and zeal he placed implicit confidence, to undertake the execution of his plan; but after a faithful experiment of a few months, they were obliged to relinquish all hope of restoring the mind to its right balance. Mary said, when the weather was dull, she was as quiet as any body; but if the sun shone out suddenly, it seemed as if its bright beams touched her brain. A thunder-storm, or a clear moon-light, would throw her back into her wild ways. "The poor thing," Mary added, "had such a tender heart, that there seemed to be no way to harden it. If she sees a lamb die, or hears a mournful note from a bird, when she has her low feelings, she'll weep more than some mothers at the loss of a child."
No cure could be effected; but Mary's house continued to be the favourite resort of the interesting vagrant. Her visits there became more frequent and longer protracted. Mary observed, that the excitement of her mind was exhausting her life, without Bet's seeming conscious of decay of strength, or any species of suffering.
The last time Mary saw her, was a brilliant night during the full harvest moon; she came to her house late in the evening; the wildness of her eye was tempered with an affecting softness; her cheek was brightened with the hectic flush that looks like 'mockery of the tomb'—Mary observed her to tremble, and perceived that there was
