I HAVE often wondered if it was possible that a person could exist without a conscience. I think not, if he be a reasonable being. Yet there certainly are many of whom you would judge by their actions that they had none; or, if they have, that conscience is not a mirror to be trusted. In such cases we may suppose that conscience exists in the soul of such a man as well as others, but that it is an erroneous one, not being rightly informed of what sin is, and consequently unable to judge fairly of his actions, by comparing them with the law of God. It is a sad state to be in; for surely there is no condition of soul more wretched than that of the senseless obdurate sinner, the faculties of whose soul seem to be in a state of numbness, and void of that true feeling of sensibility which is her most vital quality.

I was led into this kind of mood to-night by reading a sort of Memoir of the life of Jasper Kendale, alias the Baron St Gio, written by himself, which, if at all consistent with truth, unfolds a scene of unparalleled barbarity, and an instance of that numbness of soul of which we have been speaking, scarcely to be excelled.

Jasper says, he was born at bonny Dalkerran, in the parish of Leeswald; but whether that is in England, Scotland, or Wales, he does not inform us; judging in his own simplicity of heart, that every one knows where bonny Dalkerran is as well as he does. For my part, I never heard either of such a place or such a parish; but from many of his expressions, I should draw the conclusion, that he comes from some place in the west of Scotland.

"My father and mother were unco good religious focks," says he, "but verry poor. At least I think sae, for we were verry ragged and duddy in our claes, and often didna get muckle to eat." This is manifestly Scottish, and in the same style the best parts of the narrative are written; but for the sake of shortening it two thirds at least, I must take a style more con. cise.

When I was about twelve years of age, my uncle got me in to be stable-boy at Castle-Meldin, and a happy man I was at this change; for whereas before I got only peel-aneat potatoes and a little salt twice aday at home, here I feasted like a gentleman, and had plenty of good meat to take or to leave every day as I listed, and as suited my appetite, for it suited my constitution wonderfully. I was very thankful for this, and resolved to be a good, diligent, and obedient servant; and so I was, for I took care of every thing intrusted to me, and, as far as I could see, every body liked me.

Before I had been a year there the old laird died, and as I had hardly ever seen him, that did not affect me much; but I suspected that all things would go wrong about the house when the head of it was taken away; that there would be nothing but fasting, and mourning, and every thing that was disagreeable. I was never more agreeably mistaken, for the feasting and fun never began about the house till then. The ladies, to be sure, were dressed in black; and beautiful they looked, so that wooers flocked about them every day. But there was one that far outdid the rest in beauty. Her name was Fanny, the second or third daughter of the family, I am not sure which, but she was the most beautiful woman I ever saw in the world. There was a luxuriance of beauty about her that is quite indescribable, which drew all hearts and all eyes to her. She was teazed by lovers of every age and description, but I only know what the maids told me about these things. They said her behaviour was rather lightsome with the gentlemen; for that she was constantly teazing them, which provoked them always to fasten on her for a romp, and that her sisters were often ill-pleased with her, because she got the most part of the fun to herself. I know nothing about these things; but this I know, that before the days of mourning were over Miss Fanny vanished-was lost -and her name was said never to have been mentioned up stairs, but

with us she was the constant subject of discourse, and one of the maids always put on wise looks, and pretended to know where she was. Time passed on for some months, until one day I was ordered to take my uncle's pair, and drive a gentleman to a certain great market town. (Jasper names the town plain out, which I deem improper.) 1 did as I was ordered, and my uncle giving the gentleman some charges about me, closed the door, and off we drove. The man was very kind to me all the way, and good to the horses; but yet I could not endure to look at him. He had a still, round, whitish face, and eyes as if he had been half sleeping, but when they glimmered up, they were horribly disagreeable.

We remained in the town two nights, and on the following morning I was ordered to drive through the town by his direction. He kept the window open at my back, and directed me, by many turnings, to a neat elegant house rather in the suburbs. He went in. I waited long at the door, and often heard a noise within as of weeping and complaining, and at length my gentleman came out leading Miss Fanny with both hands, and put her into the coach. She was weeping violently, and much altered, and my heart bled at seeing her. There was no one came to the door to see her into the chaise, but I saw two ladies on the stair inside the house. He then ordered me to drive by such a way, which I did, driving the whole day by his direction; and the horses being in excellent keeping, we made great speed; I thought we drove on from twenty to thirty miles, and I knew by the sun that we were going to the eastward, and of course not on the road home. We had for a good while been on a sort of country road; and at length on a broad common covered with furze, I was ordered to draw up, which I did. The gentleman stepped first out, and then handed out Miss Fanny; but still not with that sort of respect which I weened to be her due. They only walked a few steps from the car riage, when he stopped, and looked first at one whin bush, then at another, as if looking for something of which he was uncertain. He then led her up to one, and holding her fast by the wrist with one hand, with

the other he pulled a dead body covered with blood out of the midst of the bush, and asked the lady if she knew who that was? Such a shriek, I think, was never uttered by a human creature, as that hapless being uttered at that moment, and such may my ears never hear again! But in one instant after, and even I think before she could utter a second, he shot her through the head, and she fell.

I was so dreadfully shocked, and amazed at such atrocity, that I leaped from the seat and ran for it; but my knees had no strength, and the boots hampering me, the ruffian caught me before I had run fifty paces, and dragged me back to the scene of horror. He then assured me, that if I offered again to stir from my horses, he would send me the same way with these culprits whom I saw lying there; and perceiving escape to be impossible, I kneeled, and prayed him not to shoot me, and I would stay and do any thing that he desired of me. He then re-loaded his pistol, and taking a ready cocked one in each hand, he ordered me to drag the bodies away, and tumble them into an old coalpit, which I was forced to do, taking first the one and then the other. My young mistress was not quite dead, for I saw her lift her eyes, and as she descended the void, I heard a slight moan, then a great plunge, and all was over.

I wonder to this day that he did not send me after them. I expected nothing else; and I am sure if it had not been for the driving of the chaise by himself, which on some account or other he durst not attempt, my fate had been sealed.

He did not go into the chaise, but mounted on the seat beside me, and we drove and drove on by quite another road than that we went, until the horses were completely forespent, and would not raise a trot. I was so terrified for the fellow, that I durst not ask him to stop and corn the horses, but I said several times that the horses were quite done up. His answer was always, "Whip on.

When it began to grow dark, he asked my name, my country, and all about my relations; and in particular about the old coachman at CastleMeldin. I told him the plain truth on every point, on which he bade me

be of good cheer, and keep myself free of all suspicions, for as long as I made no mention of what I had seen, no evil should happen to me; and he added, "I daresay you would be a little astonished at what you saw to-day. But I hope you will say, God forgive you!""

"I'll be unco laith to say ony sic thing, man," quo' I, "for I wad be very sorry if he did. I hope to see you burning in hell yet for what ye hae done the day." (These are Jasper's own words.)

"What! you hope to see me there, do you? Then it bespeaks that you hope to go there yourself," said he.

"If I do not see you there, some will," said I; for by this time I saw plenty of human faces around us, and lost all fear, so I said what I thought.

"If you have any value for your life," said he, "be a wise boy, and say nothing about it. Can't you perceive that there is no atrocity in the deed at least not one hundredth part of the sum which you seem to calculate on? Do you think it was reasonable that a whole family of beautiful and virtuous sisters of the highest rank, should all have been ruined by the indiscretion of one?" "That is no reason at all, sir, for the taking away of life," said I. "The law of God did not condemn her for aught she had done; and where lay your right to lift up your hand against her life? You might have sent her abroad, if she had in any way disgraced the family, which I never will believe she did."

"True," said he, "I could have secured her person, but who could have secured her pen? All would have come out, and shame and ruin would have been the consequence. Though I lament with all my heart that such a deed was necessary, yet there was no alternative. Now, tell me this, for you have told me the plain truth hitherto,-did or did you not recognise the body of the dead gentleman ?"

"Yes, I did," said I, frankly. "I knew it for the body of a young nobleman whom I have often seen much caressed at Castle-Meldin."

He shook his head and gave an inward growl, and then said, "since you say so, I must take care of you! You are wrong; that is certain;

and you had better not say such a thing again. But nevertheless, since you have said it, and may say it again, I must take care of you."

He spoke no more. We were now driving through a large town; but whether or not it was the one we left in the morning, I could not tell, and he would not inform me. We drew up on the quay, where a fine barge with eight rowers, all leaning on their oars, stood ready to receive us. My fine gentleman then desired me to alight, and go across the water with him, for a short space. I refused positively, saying, that I would not leave my horses for any man's pleasure. He said he had a lad there to take care of the horses, and I knew it behoved me to accompany him across. I'll not leave my horses; that's flat. And you had better not insist on it. I'm not in the humour to be teased much farther," said 1.

That word sealed my fate. I was that moment pulled from my seat, gagged by a fellow's great hand, and hurled into the boat by I know not how many scoundrels. There I was bound, and kept gagged by the sailors, to their great amusement. We reached a great ship in the offing, into which I was carried, and cast into a dungeon, bound hands and feet. We sailed next morning, and for three days I was kept bound and gagged, but fed regularly. My spirit was quite broken, and even my resolution of being avenged for the death of the lovely Fanny began to die away. On the fourth day, to my inexpressible horror, the murderer himself came down to my place of confinement, and addressed me to the following purport.

"Kendale, you are a good boy-a truthful, honourable, and innocent boy. I know you are; and I do not like to see you kept in durance this way. We are now far at sea on our way to a foreign country. You must be sensible that you are now entirely in my power, and at my disposal, and that all your dependence must be on me. Swear then to me that you will never divulge the rueful scene which you witnessed on the broad common among the furze, and I will instantly set you at liberty, and be kind to you. And to dispose you to comply, let me assure you that the day you disclose my secret

is your last, and no power on earth can save you, even though I were at the distance of a thousand miles. I have ventured a dreadful stake, and must go through with it, cost what it will."

I perceived that all he had said was true, and that I had no safety but in compliance; and yearning to be above deck to behold the sun and the blue heavens, I there, in that dismal hole, took a dreadful oath never to mention it, or divulge it in any way, either on board, or in the country to which we were going. He appeared satisfied, and glad at my compliance, and loosed me with his own hand, telling me to wait on him at table, and appear as his confidential servant, which I promised, and performed as well as I could. But I had no happiness, for the secret of the double murder preyed on my heart, and I looked on myself as an accomplice. There was one thing in which my belief was fixed; that we never would reach any coast, for the ship would to a certainty be cast away, and every gale that we encountered, I prepared for the last.

My master, for so I must now denominate him, seemed to have no fears of that nature. He drank and sung, and appeared as happy and merry as a man so gloomy of countenance could be. He was called Mr Southman, and appeared the proprietor of the ship. We saw no land for seven weeks, but at length it appeared on our starboard side, and when I asked what country it was, was told it was Carolina. I asked if it was near Jerusalem or Egypt, and the sailors laughed at me, and said that it was just to Jerusalem that I was going, and I think my heart never was so overjoyed in my life.

I

Honest Jasper has nearly as many chapters describing this voyage, as I have lines, and I must still hurry on in order to bring his narrative into the compass of an ordinary tale, for though I have offered the manuscript complete to several booksellers, it has been uniformly rejected. And yet it is exceedingly amusing, and if not truth, tells very like it. Among other things, he mentions a Mr MKenzie from Ross-shire, as having been on board, and from some things he mentions relating to him, I am sure I have met with him.

Suffice it to say, that they landed

at what Jasper calls a grand city, named Savannah, which the sailors made him believe was Jerusalem; and, when undeceived by his master, he wept. The captain and steward took their orders from Mr Southman, hat in hand, and then he and his retinue sailed up the river in a small vessel, and latterly in a barge, until they came to a fine house on a level plain, so extensive that Jasper Kendale says, with great simplicity, "It looked to me to be bigger nor the whole world."

Here they settled; and here Jasper remained seven years as a sort of half idle servant, yet he never knew whether his master was proprietor of, or steward on, the estates. There is little interesting in this part of the work, save some comical amours with the slave girls, to which Jasper was a little subject, and his master ten times worse, by his account. There is one summing up of his character which is singular. It is in these emphatic words,-" In short, I never saw a better master, nor a

worse man."

But there is one thing asserted here which I do not believe. He avers that the one half of all the people in that country are slaves! Absolute slaves, and bought and sold in the market like sheep and cattle! "Then said the high priest, Are these things so ?"

At the end of seven years or thereby, there was one day that I was in the tobacco plantation with forty workers, when a gentleman came up to me from the river, and asked for Mr Southman. My heart flew to my throat, and I could scarcely contain myself, for I knew him at once to be Mr Thomas B——h, the second son at Castle-Meldin. There were only two brothers in the family, and this was the youngest and the best. We having only exchanged a few words, he did not in the least recognise me, and indeed it was impossible he could, so I said nothing to draw his attention, but knowing what I knew, I could not conceive what his mission to my master could import. I never more saw him alive; but the following morning, I knew by the countenance of my master that there was some infernal plot brewing within, for he had that look which I had never seen him wear