. Family secrets; or, Hints to those who would make home happy. urniture, soanxious was he to spare me any painful effort, and tomake my new abode look capable of cheerfulness, andcomfort; and I began almost to think, that when thecurtains were let down, and a cheerful fire was blazing,the little parlour might not be altogether horible; but ofcourse, this could only be when he came to spend hisevenings with me, as I doubted not he often would. The day arrived when I was to leave the keys of allthe doors of the parsonage behind me; to look my lastinto my fathers study ; and to tread, for the la


. Family secrets; or, Hints to those who would make home happy. urniture, soanxious was he to spare me any painful effort, and tomake my new abode look capable of cheerfulness, andcomfort; and I began almost to think, that when thecurtains were let down, and a cheerful fire was blazing,the little parlour might not be altogether horible; but ofcourse, this could only be when he came to spend hisevenings with me, as I doubted not he often would. The day arrived when I was to leave the keys of allthe doors of the parsonage behind me; to look my lastinto my fathers study ; and to tread, for the last time inmy life, along the passage to his chamber, where it seemedto me, that I still heard the light step of my sister Lillah. If I were to study how to picture in one scene, all thatimagination conjures up, and all that heart-warm recol-lections embody in our national word—home, it would bea representation of that old parsonage, within and without;its carved oak, its deep recesses, its wide bow-windows,embowered in wreathing plants; and then the garden,. CONFESSIONS OF A MANIAC. 121 with the beds of flowers that my father and Lillah lovedso much ; the green walk behind the yew-trees, leading tothe church; the old steeple, clothed with ivy, gleamingout amongst the elms; and the path to the porch, onwhich my father never would allow a weed to grow—allenclosed together, like a boAver of beauty, and shut infrom the public road by a neatly-clipped hedge, throughwhich the same gate, open ever to the needy and the jDOor,led both to the church and to the pastors door. Oh, wasit not a scene to wring the heart of a lonely wretch likeme, as I stood outside this gate, leaning my arm upon it,looking towards my home, and knowing that I nevermore should call it mine ! I wished at that moment that I had chosen anptherland, another nation, for my residence. But then, howshould I have seen Emile ? —and to dwell near him; tosee him every day ; to hear him speak to me; to knowwhen he was


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