I was about, indeed, to realize all that my heart had ever sighed for - to mingle with the elements - to become a part of the pervading spirit of nature. My soul, loathing the dark vil-lanies of man, had even aspired to a higher and holier companionship. The hum of cities was a torture, but the deep yet secret voice of nature was to me-

"A tone, The soul and source of music, which makes known Eternal harmony."

What to me was the sickly glare of illuminated chambers, when the pure blue arch of heaven was hung with a million stars? What the soft thrillings of the lute, or the vain swell of the proud organ, when the breeze melted the heart with its gentle sighings, or the storm poured forth its mighty melody. The tempest and the ocean, the mountain and the sky, the silent star and the still lake, were "deep in my soul with a pure passion," and it seemed to me as if the time was come when I should be permitted to penetrate their mysteries.

I know not how long I had continued in this reverie, but I was at length agitated by a slight motion, an appearance of sinking. After a few seconds, I became again stationary, and from the hollow reverberations around me> I found I had just been deposited within the dark barriers of the tomb!

Of all places in the creation, there is none so fit for sober thought as the grave; and I was now in a situation to receive its fall benefit. Its dews come with a delicious influence, "watering the heart whose early flowers have died." I had here full leisure to look back upon my past existence; to sum up the good or evil I had done or suffered; to strike a balance with the world, and determine who was the debtor; but my mind entered upon no such employment; probably from the consideration of the numbers left behind, who would be generous enough to do it for me. I might have dwelt upon the pure pleasures of my boyhood, or the more intense, yet destructive joys that succeeded them; and I might, too, if my soul had retained a portion of its former enthusiasm, have felt a pang at leaving the glorious cause for which its latest aspirations have been raised, and a bitterness that the funeral knell of its frail tenement had not been the victorious shout of emancipated millions. As it was, no such reflections occupied my thoughts. I was, indeed, quite unincumbered -"With airy images, and shapes which dwell,

Still unimpaired, though old, in the soul's haunted cell."

I was in a very sedate state of existence - the quiet of the place was delicious to me - it was the very perfection of soli, tude. It was a solitude, however, of brief duration 5 for I soon found I was in the neighbourhood of a noisy set of companions, Their voices were of a small, shrill, inhuman character, and seemed mingled in utter confusion. At length, something like order being restored among them, one of the crew, who, 1 found, were a set of Bacchanalians, began the following song - the others, in a kind of impish glee, joining in the chorus: -

"Oho I brother worms, oho! Who is so happy as we? Who lives like the worm below. In his halls of revelry?

No sweeter pleasures we crave, -No, no, brother-worms, no, no, Than those which enliven the grave, -Oho! brother worms, oho!

Vile worms the rose may seek, And rifle its rich perfumes: We delight in beauty's cheek, Though its rose no longer blows.

No feast so pure can we have, -No, no, brother-worms, no, no, As that we find in the grave, -, Oho! brother worms, oho!

Though richly the grave is stored,

Its treasures for ay shall be; Each skull be a banquet board, Each coffin a place of glee.

No sweeter joys can we have,-No, no, brother-worms, no, no, Than those which glow in the grave, -Oho! brother worms, oho!

The fairest of things decay,

To the dust, from whence they came; And the mightiest pass away. But the grave is still the same.

No dearer home can we have, -

No, no, brother-worms, no, no: Care never enters the grave,-Oho, brother worms, oho!"

The sounds died away, and once more I was left to my own musings. It is impossible to describe the nature of my reflections, if, indeed, it is right to designate with such a name, the workings of a spirit, unconscious of almost every thing, saving its ,own existence. It seemed rather remarkable, that I should have lost every other sensation, whilst that of hearing still remained to me; and the circumstance of my being deprived of motion was equally perplexing. I began, too, to feel a sort of shrinking within myself, and to have a less vivid perception of identity of being. For the first time, I felt a kind of dread - a fear of annihilation. I cannot picture the horror with which I contemplated the possibility of my spiritual dissolution. My soul seemed "as a flame unfed, which runs to waste with its own flickering." And is this, thought I, the high purpose of my being? Is this the reward for years of life's endurance? Is it for this that I have suffered its degraded thraldom? Is this the end of all my hopes, the pitiful close of all my glorious visions? Oh! for a voice to tell thee, Nature, how I loathe thy treachery!

"Could I embody and imbosom now

That which is most within me, - could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throwboul, heart, mind, passion, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek,

Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe - into one word, And that one word were lightning, I would speak;

But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword."

I was not, however, allowed to remain long absorbed in this bitterness of spirit - a renewed glow pervaded my being, and, to my delight and astonishment, I heard the sound of distant voices. As they approached, I could hear my name at times repeated, and I at length caught the following words, pro, nounoed in a hollow sepulchral tone:-

"Up, up, from thy dismal shell,-Thus we break Childe Harold's spell! Art thou fond of mystery Come with as and thou shalt see Things not made for mortal eyes. The spell is broke - arise, arise!"

These words were no sooner pronounced than, to my utter amazement, the whole of my faculties were restored, and I stood forth, once more, an animated being. I was considerably astonished to find, that the companions which stood in my pre, sence were all skeletons! A small dim lamp hung from the roof of the vault, and afforded sufficient light to show me their bony countenances; an involuntary shudder crept through my veins. But I was soon relieved by the voice of some invisible agent, which bade me follow the party, and, at the same time, as if to conduct me, I felt my hand pressed by fingers which, though unseen, were cold and deathly. We soon quitted the vault, and proceeded along a narrow dark passage. My invisible conductor explained to me, as we went on, that

I was in the territories of Death; that the inhabitants were all such as those which accompanied us; and that we were approaching the palace of their Omnipotent Monarch. - We had not proceeded far, when a vivid light burst upon my view, at the extremity of the passage; on reach, ing which, we entered a splendid vestibule, every part of which seemed carved from the purest marble. At the extremity of this vestibule were a pair of large folding-doors, formed of silver, through which we passed into a hall of indescribable magnificence, brilliantly illuminated. At the upper end, upon an elevated throne, sat Death, waving his arrowy sceptre, as if to command order among the immense group of grisly subjects that surrounded him. There was evidently considerable in, subordination among them, and the movements of their almost shadowless substances, and the waving in the air of their spiral arms, as they seemed to testify their approbation or displeasure at those who harangued them, had an appearance, the terrific horrors of which I should want words to describe in the language of mortals.

From this scene of confusion we passed on through several other chambers, silent, brilliant, and beautiful. Not a sound disturbed the quiet of the place, save now and then the foot-fell of some solitary skeleton. At length, we reached a kind of outer hall, from which we again passed into a long dark avenue; here I was loosed from the icy grasp of my companion. The word "Farewell" broke upon my ear, and, in an instant, I was left in gloom and solitude. - I attempted to return, but found my passage obstructed by a barrier of earth; in this dilemma I had no alternative but to wander on, and in a few minutes I reached the extremity of the passage, and found myself upon the sea-shore. The heavens were black, and the thunder raised its mighty voice, and the lightning broke upon the ocean's bare and desolated bosom. - How unlike was this to the soft music of the hour when last my eye dwelt with intensity of passion upon the mellowed glories of the parting day: -

"The sky is changed! and such a change! oh, night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength."

Overcome with the variety of conflicting feelings I had undergone, I reposed myself upon a rock, by the side of a flashing mass of falling waters. I continued in this situation, in almost a state of insensibility, till the tempest had subsided: the winds slumbered, and the sea-bird raised his note of joy as he hovered above the becalmed ocean. A gentle glow enlightened the horizon, from whose distant verge ascended "a magnificent array of clouds," They were of the most gorgeous description, and rose in one immense unbroken body. Instead of ascending the heavens, their glorious volumes floated across the rippling deep. As they approached me, they began to separate, and discovered to me a scene of overpowering splendour. In the centre there arose a temple, far surpassing any thing my mind had ever contemplated in the vastest stretch of its imaginings - its gorgeous and colossal columns and towering domes shone with an intensity of light - a sound as of many harps broke upon my ear - and from a splendid portico of the temple there came forth a vast assemblage of persons, clad in the garbs of various ages. The countenances of many of them were familiar to me, and they were lit as if by the mind's purest illuminations. They were indeed spirits of the olden time - bards of every clime and age. They advanced to the very verge of the glorious canopy which floated like beautiful mystery around them: - in front, stood a lovely female, the goddess of the temple; in one hand she held a golden wreath, in the other a trumpet, and in accents the sweetest I had ever heard, thus she spoke -

"Harold, thy dream is done, The troubles of thy wanderings are o'er! No more shall passion prey upon thy heart, And, like a serpent coiled around its core, Sting thee into madness. Life's dream is past, With all its treacherous enchantments; - past Are the high aspirings of thy lofty soul, The hope and glory of thy early visions;-Past, too, is life's heart-withering bitterness; We come to hail thee to our holy fane; A thousand kindred spirits welcome thee;-Bright souls of other days, whose glowing lay Severed the mind's inglorious chains, and roused The world to liberty. Long we have watched Thy noble spirit, and the general voice Hath long decreed to thee this glorious wreath, Our temple's richest gift."

As soon as she had thus spoken, she descended, with the grace and lightness of an angel, to place the ever-living leaves upon my brow; and the assemblage, with one accord, exclaimed -"The wreath is Harold's."(Book of spirits.