This incident of the dove, together with the mournful truth of this melancholy observation, filled every eye with tears, except those of her father, who now exhibited a spirit of calm obedience to what he considered an affliction that called upon him to act as one whose faith was not the theory of a historic Christian.

“But how,” added Jane, “can I be unhappy with the Paraclete in my bosom?  The Paraclete—­oh that I were not reprobate and foredoomed—­then indeed, he might be there—­all, all by one suppression of truth—­but surely my papa pities his poor girl for that, there is, I know, one that loves me, and one that pities me.  My papa knows that I am foredoomed, and cannot but pity me:  but where is he, and why does he delay so long.  Hush!  I will sing—­

     The dawning of morn, the daylight’s sinking,
     The night’s long hours still find me thinking
     Of thee, thee—­only thee!”

She poured a spirit into these words so full of the wild sorrow of insanity, as to produce an effect that was thrilling and fearful upon those who were forced to listen to her.  Nay, her voice seemed, in some degree, to awaken her own emotions, or to revive her memory to a confused perception of her situation.  And in mercy it would appear that Providence unveiled only half her memory to reason; for from the effect which even that passing glimpse had upon her, it is not wrong to infer that had she seen it in its full extent, she would have immediately sunk under it.

After singing the words of Moore with all the unregulated pathos of a maniac, she wrung her hands, and was for a considerable time silent.  During this interval she sighed deeply, and after a pause of half an hour arose suddenly, and seizing her father by the breast of the coat, brought him over, and placed him on the sofa beside her.  She then looked earnestly into his face, and was about to speak, but her thoughts were too weak for the task, and after putting her hand to her forehead, as if to assist her recollection, she let it fall passively beside her, and hung-her head in a mood, partaking at once of childish pique and deep dejection.

The doctor, who watched her closely, observed, that in his opinion the consequences of the unhappy intelligence that day communicated to her, had not yet fully developed themselves.  “The storm has not yet burst,” he added, “but it is quite evident that the elements for it are fast gathering.  She will certainly have a glimpse of reason before the paroxysms appear, because, in point of fact, that is what will induce them.”

“How soon, doctor,” asked her mother, “do you think she will have to encounter this fresh and woeful trial?”

“I should be disposed to think within the lapse of twenty-four hours; certainly within forty-eight.”