'This poor young creature continued to bewail the disgrace she anticipated--her lamentations pierced my soul! I recalled to my remembrance your emphatic caution. I foresaw that, with the loss of her character, this simple girl's misfortune and degradation would be irretrievable; and I could, now, plainly distinguish the morality of _rule_ from that of _principle_. Pursuing this train of reasoning, I entangled myself, for my views were not yet sufficiently clear and comprehensible! Bewildered, amidst contending principles--distracted by a variety of emotions--in seeking a remedy for one vice, I plunged (as is but too common), into others of a more scarlet dye. With shame and horror, I confess, I repeatedly tried, by medical drugs, to procure an abortive birth: the strength and vigour of Rachel's constitution defeated this diabolical purpose. Foiled in these attempts, I became hardened, desperate, and barbarous! 'Six weeks before the allotted period, the infant saw the light--for a moment--to close its eyes on it for ever! I, only, was with the unhappy mother. I had formed no deliberate purpose--I had not yet arrived at the acme of guilt--but, perceiving, from the babe's premature birth, and the consequences of the pernicious potions which had been administered to the mother, that the vital flame played but feebly--that life was but as a quivering, uncertain, spark--a sudden and terrible thought darted through my mind. I know not whether my emotion betrayed me to the ear of Rachel--but, suddenly throwing back the curtain of the bed, she beheld me grasp--with savage ferocity--_with murderous hands_!--Springing from the bed, and throwing herself upon me--her piercing shrieks-- '_I can no more_--of the rest you seem, from whatever means, but too well informed! I need not say--protect, if she survive, the miserable mother!--To you, whose heavenly goodness I have so ill requited, it would be injurious as unnecessary! I read, too late, the heart I have insulted! 'I have settled the disposal of my effects--I have commanded my feelings to give you this last, sad, proof of my confidence.--_Kneeling_, I entreat your forgiveness for the sufferings I have caused you! I found your heart wounded--and into those festering wounds I infused a deadly venom--curse not my memory--_We meet no more_. 'Farewel! first, and last, and only, beloved of women!--a long--a long farewel! 'MONTAGUE.' These are the consequences of confused systems of morals--and thus it is, that minds of the highest hope, and fairest prospect, are blasted! CHAPTER XXVII