taining his paternal title, of his having a son, born to his wishes, and of his leading a life of unbounded gaiety and pleasure—-Ah! how different from the one he has doomed me to!
"The attentions of the Count and Countess have been unremitted; could kindness, could compassion have healed the wounds of my heart, they would long since have been closed.
"In their visits to me you are often brought:—Ah! how does my breast heave with mingled pain and pleasure as I clasp you to it, and hear your lisping accents. Fair is the promise of your infancy, but never, my son, will your unfortunate mother see it fulfilled; affliction has undermined my health, I daily, hourly grow weaker; I fade like an early flower, o'er which the desolating blast has past, ere half its beauties are expanded; and long, long before the blossoms of your youth are blown, I shall be laid within my cold grave.
"From that grave, as you peruse this narrative, Oh! think the spirit of your mother
