A sufficient space having been allowed for this, I rose once more, and retired with haste; the darkness and silence of the night creating deeper and more awful reflections. But it was to no purpose. Nothing could now be undone; no step retraced. The tree had fallen, and so it must lie.

CHAPTER II.

JACOB BROCKBOURN.-WARNINGS.

61.-Mrs. Martin, Mrs. Hudson, the Souths, &c.

ONE afternoon, upon looking over my newspaper which had just arrived from the neighbouring town, I was surprised to see a circumstantial account of a murder reported to have been committed in my parish; and at first I was strongly inclined to doubt the truth of the whole matter, or at least to feel quite sure, that there was an error in the name. Not that my parish did not abound, like others, with persons who were capable of any wickedness; (which I lamented, but could not remedy by any human counsel hitherto devised;) but, when I took so much pains to be acquainted with all occurrences, and so many persons were always ready to communicate every thing extraordinary, and I myself was never out of the way, it seemed incredible that the news of a transaction, so horrible as a murder, should have travelled to the town, have got into the papers, and then come back to me, before it had reached me by any other channel. Besides, there were Brockbourns in the parish, and bad ones too; but I had never heard of any Jacob Brockbourn, as the murderer himself was called. Upon the whole, I trusted, that the pain and the disgrace of so heinous a deed were yet at a distance from us.

However, I sallied forth to make enquiries, and

was very soon disenchanted of my confidence. The story was too true; but it was supposed, that Jacob was a mistake for Joseph; because there was a Joseph Brockbourn, who had well entitled himself to the imputation of a murderer, by his general habits of drunkenness, and stealing, and other depravities. And such a man as Joseph was very likely to have taken up his abode in such a spot as that which was now mentioned to me as the scene of the murder. Thickly peopled as the parish was, yet there were parts of it that were solitary enough; at least, removed from all great roads, and exposed only to the observation of a few of the lowest cottagers. This was one of that description. Towards the remote corner of a wide, extensive, open field, traversed chiefly by foot-paths, there is a small cluster of wretched hovels, with some others detached, and scattered about at various distances. On a Sunday, as I had often been told, this place was usually the resort of the most profligate persons, who brought their liquor and their loose women with them, and pursued their debaucheries, unawed by the appearance of any decent respectable people, or by the fears of beadles and constables. The inhabitants had no communication with any of our hamlets, where the various shop-keepers are collected together; for they were much nearer to a very large village, or rather town, it might be called, in an adjoining parish, where all their daily wants were supplied equally well, and with less inconvenience. So, on the present occasion, the poor sufferer, Brockbourn's wife, was attended by a surgeon from thence, who sent her off, in a very few hours after the calamity, to the nearest hospital; the consequence of which was, that there

was no possibility of inviting me to visit her. I have no doubt but this would have been done under more favourable circumstances; for wicked as these people were, they never failed, if there was time enough, to summon me to the sick-bed; and I have very lately been there day after day, for a long period, to pray with a poor young married woman, who died at length of her lingering disease, after having received the sacrament from my hands. But neither a mournful event like this, nor others much more awful, which I shall, perhaps, have occasion to mention, seemed to have any effect in changing the character of the place. Through all the changes and chances of human affairs, and in spite of a frequent change of some of its inhabitants, it continued uniformly the same. The new-comers either brought with them, or soon acquired the manners of the oldest settlers; and now to crown the rest of their enormities, a husband had murdered his wife. So at least it was believed. The wife died in the hospital in about four and twenty hours; the inquest gave a verdict of wilful murder against the husband; and, in consequence, he was now in prison, awaiting the trial which was to decide upon his character and his life.

This was the result of my first enquiries in my own immediate neighbourhood, and to my great sorrow a splendid opportunity of doing good appeared to be entirely lost. However, I thought it advisable to go, and see what impression had been made upon the rest of the people, and to endeavour to turn this calamity to their improvement. My curate, a young clergyman, zealous in his profession, and anxious for information and experience, together with some

of my children, went with me. They were all indeed desirous of accompanying me upon so unusual an occasion; for they expected, I believe, both to hear and to see many extraordinary things: but it seemed prudent to leave the little girls at home, as it was quite uncertain, whether circumstances might not occur, in the due execution of my office, which might compel me to use language unfit for their ears, and to suggest ideas likely to contaminate the purity of their minds.

On our way to the cottages we met Mr. Markham, and ascertained two or three facts, which were in some measure consolatory to me; that it was not my parishioner, Joseph Brockbourn, who stood charged with this deed of horror; that the newspaper was right in calling the person Jacob; and that both Jacob himself, and the wretched woman, who had fallen a victim to his fury, were strangers amongst us. In short their legal settlement was at a distance; but they had got work in the adjoining parish, and had lately come to dwell in ours.

Having arrived at the place, there seemed to be an uncommon stillness and desolation about it. We walked almost round the whole cluster; not a door was open, not a human creature visible, not a sound heard. Yet it was nearly the hour of dinner, when I might have reasonably have expected to find the entire population of every age and sex assembling together. 'Have these people fled, with one consent, from this scene of blood? I thought with myself. 'Or are they all shut up within their dwellings, ashamed and afraid to look upon each other, occupied in silent reflection upon the warning which God has given them?'