"That it springs from no bitter feelings of disappointment or rivalry, on my part; but is as disinterested in its nature, as if I had never loved Mary Seaham but as a brother might have loved a sister, God truly knows; but it would be throwing words away, I fear, to attempt to convince one like you--in whose imagination the possibility of any such purity and disinterestedness of motive cannot exist. Well, interpret it as you may--only break off this engagement, which, from what I hear of the sentiments of some of her friends, will not be so very difficult. Break it off, and for what I care, the world may still think me mad; for what I care, you may still retain the position you now hold--so much as it appears, to your own satisfaction and contentment--in the eyes of society. Refuse to do this, and I come forward, and ask the world--ask her friends--ask Mary herself, whether a man who had acted as you have done, is worthy to be her husband; and then, I am much mistaken, if when that delusive veil, which now robes her idol, be thus withdrawn--she, yes, Mary, does not shrink with horror, from what is there revealed. "Spare yourself, Eugene--spare her--spare her pure eyes, her innocent spirit this exposure. You will say, the alternative is as cruel--that her affection is too great to bear the destruction of her hopes, without such pain and grief as none who really loved her, as _I_ profess to do, would willingly inflict. "This may be--her love may be true, and deep. The tears she may shed at its destruction be bitter--time may be required to heal the wound. But were these tears to swell the ocean's tide, or the wound to prove incurable, far better even this, than to live the life--to die the miserable death of your father's wife--of her husband's mother! "And what in your career, Eugene, even setting aside that one crime, with which I am personally concerned, is there, which can ensure her any better destiny? "No; your mode of life during the last five years, I have taken measures to ascertain. Can you deny that it has been one long course of sin, of profligacy? "One dark deed, followed by atonement and remorse, might have been less baneful to her happiness, than the systematic career of vice you now habitually pursue.