Let any one who is fond of sublime sensations take his hat and staff, and climb a high hill by a moonlight midnight. There is apart of that dust of earth, which gathers so sadly upon our spirit during our daily commune with this sordid world, cast off at every step. The very act of climbing has something ennobling in it, and the clearer air we breathe, the elevation to which we rise, all gives the mind a sensation of power and lightness, as if it had partly shaken off the load of clay that weighs it down to the ground. But still more, when with solitude--the deep solitude of night--we rise up high above the sleeping world, with the bright stars for our only companions, and the calm moon for our only light--when we look through the profound depth of space, and see it peopled by never-ending orbs--when we gaze round our extended horizon and see the power of God on every side,--then the immortal triumphs over the mortal, and we feel our better being strong within us. The cares, the sorrows, the anxieties of earth seem as dust in the balance weighed with mightier things; and the grandest earthly ambition that ever conquered worlds and wept for more, may feel itself humiliated to the dust in the presence of silence, and solitude, and space, and millions of eternal suns. The cool night air playing round his brow calmed the feverish headache which anxiety and excitement had left upon Edward de Vaux; and as he walked forth from the park, and climbed the high hill towards Morley Down, with the stars looking at him from the clear heaven, and the moon glistening on every pebble of his path, it is wonderful how much his mind felt soothed and tranquilized, how small the cares of earth became in his sight. So much so, indeed, was this the case, that although, as he mounted the steep ascent, he heard distinctly two several shots fired, apparently, a great deal too near his aunt's preserves--a sound which, at any other time, might have roused his indignation in a very superabundant degree--he now only paused for a moment, and turned round to listen; and, hearing no more, walked on, regarding the destruction of some hares or pheasants as a matter of but small consequence. When he reached the common, the beauty of the moonlight scene, with its broad lights and shadows, and the solemn effect of silence, and solitude, and night, again made him halt in his advance, to gaze upwards into the depth, and feel the mightiness of the universe around him; and that, too, sunk all human cares so low by comparison, that he began to think he could bear any disclosure with calm tranquillity.