something to the original splendor of the palace. Paul Hentzner, a foreigner who visited England in 1598, and whose " Itinerary" was translated from the Latin by Horace Walpole, thus describes what then appeared to him the most memorable things at Hampton Court:

In

Of all the royal show palaces in England, Hampton | the presiding genius of the place. Each reign added Court Palace, of which we give above a very finely engraved view, is the most interesting on the score of its historical recollections, and the most profitable to visit on account of the works of art collected there. In that magnificent palace are the Cartoons of Raphael and the Beauties of Charles II.'s dissolute Court. The Palace is comparatively a modern work. It was once a monastery, and is now a show house, and in a few years more it may be an alms-house or a manufactory. It was here that the swelling pride of the haughty Woolsey was displayed. In the most palmy days of his influence-before the passions of his master had developed the fierceness of his will, and the growing tyrant" was young and lusty, disposed all to mirth and pleasure, and to follow his desire and appetite"-he made a bargain with the Prior of Saint John for the manor of Hampton Court. This was in the year 1515. The Lord Archbishop of York very soon changed the character of the place. The poor manor-house was swept away; the rank meadows which skirted the Thames were transformed into curious knotted gardens; a great palace arose, as if by magic, at the bidding of the profuse and tasteful Cardinal; and here, within two years of his purchase of the place, did he surround himself with the pomp of kings, and maintain a state which even the most absolute king had rarely practised.

"The chief area is paved with square stone. its centre is a fountain that throws up water, covered with a gilt crown, on the top of which is the figure of Justice, supported by columns of white and black marble. The chapel of this palace is most splendid, in which the Queen's closet is quite transparent, having its windows of crystal. We were led into two chambers, called the presence, or chambers of audience, which shone with tapestry of gold and silver, and silk of different colors: under the canopy of state are these words, embroidered in pearl: 'Vivat Henricus Octavus.' Here is besides a small chapel, hung with tapestry, where the Queen performs her private devotions. In her Majesty's bed-chamber the bed was covered with very costly coverlids of silk. At no great distance from this room we were shown a bed, the tester of which was worked by Anne Boleyn, and presented by that lovely and accomplished Queen to her husband, Henry the Eighth. All the other rooms, being very numerous, are adorned with tapestry of gold, silver, and velvet, in some of which were woven history pieces, in others Turkish and American dresses, all extremely natural."

It has had a good many princely occupants, since. In the reigns of Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth, Hampton Court was not associated in any remarkable In November, 1838, the noble example was first degree with the regal history. The usual court cere-set of throwing the doors of Hampton Court Palace monies were here enacted, whether the meek Boy-wide open to visitors of every age and rank. This King, the Bigot-Queen, or she of "lion-port," was custom is still continued.

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A MONOMANIAC;

OR

THE VERITABLE HISTORY AND SURPRISING ADVENTURES OF JAMES TODDLEBAR,

COMPRISING THE WHOLE OF HIS EXTENSIVE CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE LITERATI OF THE NEW AND
OLD WORLD, WITH REMARKS UPON AUTOGRAPHICAL DECIMATION OF PERSONAL CHARACTER.
FROM ORIGINAL MSS. NOW IN THE POSSESSION OF THE TODDLEBAR FAMILY.

CHAPTER III.

EDITED BY JOE BOTTOM, ESQ.

[ORIGINAL.]

BUSINESS called me to the South. The mariner that has long left his home, his kindred and his all, after years of toil and privation, returns not back with a sweeter pleasure, than that which I felt, when I left my western home to re-visit the scenes of my early life. Mine was not, however, the joy which inspires the mariner's heart, but it was a fiend-like bliss, clutching at the victim ere revenge is glutted, and as the poison feeds on his life, gloating, as he writhes in the fell destroyer's arms. I left my western home, to go South to do a deed,—and I did not go to do it, that men might talk about it. I had no ambition like this, for the feeling that inspired me onward was the more lofty one of self-approval. My heart willed it, my reason approved it, and I was satisfied that I was right. He who looks to man for the approving smiles of his own actions, revels on the brink of a vortex, that soon swallows him in its whirlpool. The fierce lion that roams over the sandy plains of the desert may be caged, the fiery steed that prances on the prairie may be curbed in his wildness, and the hungry wolf that prowls in the midnight hour may be tamed, but man-despiteful man, with revenge rankling in his heart, breaks the chains which bind him, and, like the sweeping tornado, every thing falls before his relentless wrath. There are no limits to his footsteps, no boundaries confining him.

drops on the parched flowers, they dropped, to cool my feverish brow, many a fragrant tear. Then I was doubly armed-fortified on every side. Conscience approved, and Delia approved-then what had I to fear!

The way was a long one, more than a thousand miles in length, yet I wearied not in the journey, but hurried on. On the tenth day, after leaving home, a few minutes before I stopped for the night, I felt a suffocating sensation at the heart, a dizziness on the brain, and a chilly sensation creeping slowly along the viens. What did it mean, I asked myself, but no responsive echo replied. The inn at which I had intended staying all night was yet some two miles ahead, and it was impossible I thought to reach it in my present situation. My head still continued to swim, the weight on the heart increased, and I became uncomfortably cold. I met a small boy in the road, and asked him, as I found it quite impossible to go any further, if there was any house near at hand. He pointed to one not a hundred yards distant. It was with difficulty I reached it. The only thing I recollect, after reaching the house, was standing in the portico with a very venerable looking gentleman beside me-and of falling into his arms.

It was about three weeks after stopping there, which I learned afterwards, that I awoke one morning as from a deep and long sleep, and on gazing around the room, my bewildered senses failed to identify a single object with which the mind was familiar. Every thing was strange. The room was about twenty teet square, with a lofty ceiling, and very richly furnished. A Turkish carpet encompassed the entire floor, a richly carved dressing glass was suspended in a frame in one corner of the room, while in the other stood a splendid ottoman. The windows were all curtained by dark crimson silk, fringed and tasselled, through which the rich beams of the morning sun dimly passed to shed their rich hues on my bed. I lay there, but half awake, wondering at every thing around, and divining the meaning of these things.Every thing around was a mystery to me. I had probably lain in this dreamy wakefulness some ten minutes, when I heard the faint footfalls of something tinkling on the tufted floor. Without moving my po

It was a cold day, in the month of February, in the year 18, that I left my home, chuckling in my heart that at least one would be made soon as miserable as myself. The snow was on the ground, and as the frozen surface cracked beneath the horse's hoofs, the sound that reached my ears told in a language not to be misunderstood, that my revenge was nastening to its consummation. This was a delicious joy, though eventually it would become poison to my soul, it was the food that then sustained it. I left the little village of J- at the early hour of daylight, none knowing my designs, and none knowing my destination. These were secrets too sweet to be divulged-too sacred for any heart to participate in their glowing and rapturous joys. The Nicean barques, that of old returned with the rich merchandise from their long protracted voyages in the golden seas of the East, were not greet-sition in the least, I looked in the direction in which ed with a more hearty welcome on their arrival, by their the sound was heard, and saw a young woman, of friends on the shore, than was I by the spirit of Delia beautiful proportions, looking over some prints which as it smiled upon me on the morning which I left to lay scattered about over a marble centre table, that I revenge her wrongs. As a fleecy cloud, floating on had not before noticed. She stood with her side to the azure concave of heaven, her shadowless hand, me, and the long curling locks shaded almost entirewhite as the driven snow, waved me onwards, and ly the part of the face towards me. Her form was her liquid eyes, as twin-stars, sent down in long rays beautiful,-and seemed to have that soft, voluptuous of effulgence their approving beams, and as the dew-cast, in which the virgins of the South are so richly

It was the third day that I again saw her. My strength had rapidly improved, so much so that I could sit up in the bed without any great fatigue. To the many questions which I had asked the servant, I had received no answer, for he had, invariably, to all of them, shook his head, and with a meaning look, smiled in my face. I had almost concluded that I was bewitched by the faries, or had been taken captive by the genii, and for my offences had to do penance in the presence of my dumb waiter. Easily could I have borne a long servitude in the presence of the maiden, though her voice spoke never a word, but it was be coming painful to endure the eternal silence of the servant. I was in this mood, when, one evening, I think it was the third one since she had left me, I thought I heard her fairy footsteps on the carpeted floor, and on looking up, discovered that I was right in the conjecture. She approached the bed-side, and after taking a seat in the cushioned chair, gazed into into my eyes with the fondness of an old acquaintance. She spoke, and the soft intonations of her voice were like the liquid cadences of the river flowing on a bed of pearls. Never had I heard a voice so full, and yet so soft. She informed me that I had been attacked more than three weeks ago by a brain fever, and that my case for a long time refused to be reached by the skill of the physician. The regular physician had called in two others on consultation, but they gave no encouragement to hope for my recovery. During my sickness she told me that I had raved almost continually, often threatening some one with the severest penalty, and then calling on the name of Delia so

dressed. It was not long, however, in moving about | servant waited on me during the balance of the day, the table, before her face was fully turned toward me and I saw no more of her for several days. -and O God! never was so much loveliness seen centred before in one being. The first thought that struck me, was, that the spirit of Delia was hovering about me, but, no, this could not be, for the creature that stood before me, though beautiful as Delia, was unlike her in form, unlike her in every thing, save the surpassing loveliness of her charms. My heart fluttered as I saw her put down the print on which she had been gazing, and come towards the bed. She approached it, and I shut my eyes. I felt the soft touch of her hand, as she placed it on my brow. A thrill of some unutterable sensation, like an electric spark, darted quickly through my soul. I was bewitched-I felt that I was. I heard the heavy footsteps of some one coming into the room. He approached the bed-side, and I heard his voice speak to the maiden. He asked how I was. I heard her call him doctor, and say that I had rested well through the past night. And this I thought was my nurse. O how I would like to be sick again to be nursed by such hands. I felt the doctor feeling my pulse, and I heard the ticking of his watch, and knew that he was counting their pulsations. Long did he feel them, and when he finished, I heard him tell the maiden that the fever had entirely subsided, and that I would be in my senses when I again awoke. Then I had been delirious-been raving perhaps as a madman. I felt that this was so, and thought that in my ravings I had betrayed all of my secrets. This was gall and wormwood to my soul. I heard both of them leave the room, and was again left alone. It was then that I opened my eyes, and every thing looked exactly as they did before I shut them. I half raised my-piteously, that there would not be a dry eye in the self in the bed, but felt so weak that I fell back again on the pillow quite exhausted with the effort. My head swam round, and it was several moments before I again became composed.

It was more than half an hour that I lay endeavoring to collect my scattered senses, before any one again appeared in the room. I could recollect nothing -every thing was dark after the evening on which I first became sick. I could not account for my weakness, for it seemed that I had been only, one night sick. That same almost noiseless footstep was again heard, and on looking in the direction in which the sound was heard, I saw the same form approaching my bed-side. Again I shut my eyes, determining in my own mind, however, to open them before she again left, and find out something about my sickness, and to whose hospitality I had been indebted during my confinement. I again felt the silken touch of her fingers on my brow, and so soon as she took her hand away I opened my eyes, and in full gaze met the dark and liquid lustre of the maiden's. A soft and beautiful tint of carnation suffused her cheeks, and a sweet smile, as beautiful as the first ray of morning, blushed upon her lips, and spreading itself over her face, left its softness in dimples on her cheeks. I endeavored to speak, but she placed her finger on her lips, in token that I should not. She left the room, but returned in a few moments with a small China bowl of chicken broth, out of which she gave me a few spoonfuls, and left with the injunction that I must be quiet until she returned. In about an hour she returned, and after giving me a few spoonfuls more of the broth, retired, as she had come, without speaking a single word. A

room. After telling me this much, she arose and was about leaving the room, when I beseeched her to remain a little longer, as I had some questions which I wished to ask her, but she told me she would gladly answer them at some other time, but that she would not now. She left the room, and I was again left to solitude and my own reflections.

On the tenth day after my convalescence, I was enough restored to leave the sick room. On leaving it, and looking out on the broad face of nature, 0! what a change had been wrought in the appearance of every thing since my confinement. Instead of the cold, wintry sky, and trees bare of their foliage, I looked upon the warm azure of the heavenly concave, and upon the young buds of the trees expanding into life. The rich blossoms of the peach-tree, the plum, and apricot, were shedding their fragrant breath around the beautiful mansion of that hospitable roof, and the young violets were peeping out with modest looks on the soft prospect around. Every thing was delicious-every thing was bright and charming.

I took a seat in the portico, and was fast merging into that soft dreaming quietude which comes upon the senses ere they sink into forgetfulness, when, of all other persons in the world the one whom I most desired to see, approached me, and took a seat by my side. The person was none other than the beautiful maiden that had been my nurse during my looking sickness. She congratulated me on my improved looks, and welcomed me to the hospitalities of the house. She informed me that her father had left more than two weeks before, for New Orleans, on some pressing business, but that he had given instruc

tions to the family that every attention necessary to | No particular sorrow preys upon my heart-—no unmy comfort, during my sickness, should be given. I told grief is fostering melancholy, and yet I am sad thanked her kindly and most heartily for her atten- very sad, yet know not why. But there are hours tions for I was truly grateful-and, through her, most of melancholy which steal upon me, which often poscordially extended my gratitude to the absent father. sess with a demon-like grasp this gay and thoughtess During that evening's conversation I learned some- heart. I am sad to-night, too sad to wield the penthing of their history. General Willoughby (the too sad to weep, nor can I shake this feeling off. name of the father) had long been a member of Congress from the district in which he resided, but had at the last election declined suffering his name to come before the people as a candidate. He had been a very prominent member in the House, and by his amenity of manners had won golden opinions from almost every one. His wife, who was in low health, a son and daughter (the beautiful Sulma Willoughby), were the only members of his happy family. His son was at College, and the only members of the family at home were the mother and daughter.

now

to meet at the altar the chosen of my heart. I ap- | since! Now, every thing is bright before me! The proached the altar, conducted by a kind and priestly notes of the wild-bird, that I loathed to hear, have in father, trembling, doubting, almost fainting with the them all that is sweet and musical. The sunshine, agony of suppressed emotion, and stood, unable to as it played through the ruffled leaves of the trees, raise my eyes from very fear-fear that they might making trembling shadows on the plaited grass below, not rest upon you, and O God! I thought if he was which once had scarcely a charm for me, not here if he has thus trifled with this heart (O! looked upon with delight and pleasure. The muffled the agony of that moment-though a dream, I can stream, as it spouted its crystal waters from some never forget it). I stood alone where I had thought coral cave, had no more of beauty in its looks, nor to meet you—yes, alone! I felt, though I dared not music in its voice than the slimy water in the ditch, look up to ascertain for a certainty, until I caught the is now blessed with the charms of brightness and glimpse of an approaching figure, and then I raised the voice of the siren. These changes all have been my eyes-but O, upon what an object did they rest! effected in a few short weeks-and I am happy, very A masked figure!-so closely enveloped that I could happy. The name of Delia has almost passed away not distinguish whether it were a man or woman. like a something which has scarcely left a memory. My heart was chilled to freezing, and life seemed But she shall be revenged, not by an assassin, but an about to depart from my pulseless bosom, as that honorable man, meeting man in deadly feud. The mask and cloak were suddenly dropped, and the figure villain that insulted her I know is not entitled to of a woman, with a glittering dagger, gazed upon me these courtesies, yet I will extend them to him. He with the malignant smile of triumph and revenge. I must and shall fall, but not by the hand of an assassin, tried in vain to speak, to move-I could not. My but in a combat recognized by the laws of honor. head grew dizzy, and was about to fall, when with a When this is done, the spirit of Delia being revenged, shriek that penetrated my very soul, she exclaimed, on the wings of LOVE I will hasten to the bower of “He is mine, and this shalt thou wed;" and with Sulma, and in her find all that I have lost in the dethose dreadful words the fatal dagger rested in my parted Delia. bosom, and kneeling beside me, she smiled to see the heart she had pierced send forth its deep current upon the bridal robes. O what a dream!

I was telling you my dream of last night, and did not get through, when my paper gave out-but yet I don't believe I will say any more about it. I am afraid you will laugh at me, indeed I know you will, but I could not help it, and do not conceive why I should have such a strange dream. I know you will laugh at me, and chide me for remembering it, or thinking that it can possibly mean any thing. But if you should ever smile at any foolish words of mine you read, never tell me of it, for I should be wretched indeed. O never laugh at me for any thing I say or do,-promise me this, and never wound the heart that loves you so deeply, that is yours so unreservedly, and I will be so happy! Will you promise this, and pardon me for asking you. I know you will always have much to forgive, the natural result of a nature so impulsive and thoughtlessly frank, but O, when I do wrong, tell me of it kindly, and I will bless you with the prayers of a grateful heart. Hoping that you have entirely recovered from your late indisposition, I am,

Very affectionately yours, ever and ever,
SULMA WILLOUGHBY.

This letter made me very happy. To be blest by the love of one as beauteous as a Hebe and graceful as a Venus, was a something more priceless than wealth. I could not contain myself; as the bounding roe, I leaped for very joy. What strange causes bring to man's heart strange effects. A few weeks ago there was nothing in life that promised any thing for which I could live, but O! how changed is the scene

CHAPTER IV.

In the batch of letters received on the day on which I received the one from Sulma Willoughby, were three others, from three of the most distinguished poets in America. The first one which I opened was from Professor Longfellow, of Cambridge, Massachusetts. This gentleman is the professor of modern languages in the college at that place, and stands deservedly high as one of the most accomplished and ripe scholars in that literary institution-the Harvard University. Professor Longfellow has travelled much on the European continent, especially in the Germanic confederation, and from the peculiar people there, he caught something of their manners and their affectation. This, however, is more in their tone rather than in any servile imitation. He has too many resources of his own (mentally) to need those of others. The charges that have been brought against him, of stealing the finest ideas of his works from German authors, are so unfounded as to need no replication in this place. His letter was as follows:

CAMBRIDGE, MARCH 17, 1842.

MY DEAR SIR.-Your favor of February 28th ult. did not reach me till yesterday. I beg you to accept my thanks for your expressions of regard. I feel sincerely happy when I hear that anything I have written from my own heart finds a response in another's. I feel this to be the best reward an author can receive; as his highest privilege is to speak words of sincerity to those who in sincerity will hear them. Reciprocating your good wishes,

thely your

Henry

w.

Dongfellow