Suppose that you have, undesignedly and without her consent, imposed maternity on your wife. On discovering the fact, it becomes most repulsive to her nature. She is not prepared to bear the cross and endure the crucifixion. Instantly, her soul is filled with murderous intent. She resolves to nip and crush the opening bud of life,—to procure abortion,—that is, to commit the deed of ante-natal child-murder. She does not feel that it is _her_ child. She may regard it as _yours_, but she cannot acknowledge it as her own; and though it must receive its gestational development in her organism, she cannot tenderly and lovingly cherish and guard it, as bone of her bone, flesh of her flesh, and soul of her soul. It is so _in fact_, but not in her _feelings_. She asked not for it; her soul repels it as an intruder, thrust upon her without her consent, and in contempt, it may be, of her earnest remonstrance,—for thus it often is. The child, she feels, has no right to an existence at her expense, and who shall say it has? An uninvited and hated intruder is exhausting her vital energies, and robbing her of that which no earthly treasures can ever restore or recompense. Through her physical suffering and mental anguish, an unbidden and loathed guest is feeding and thriving on her heart’s blood. Desperation, and the bitterness of death, are in her heart. MURDER fills her soul towards your unconscious and innocent babe. Who is responsible? On whom rests the guilt? It is your work. You forced that heavy burden upon her, and compelled her to bear it. You thrust your child, as an intruder, into the sacred domain of her life, to derive existence through her organism and at her expense, knowing that she was not prepared to welcome it, and to bend the forces of her nature to its growth and support; and contrary, it may be, to her earnest entreaties that she might be spared this pain and anguish till she was ready joyfully to welcome them. But you heeded not her prayer; you assumed the right to decide for her when she was prepared to endure these trials, and under what circumstances she should be a mother. You must have your stated gratification; you have abused your manhood and your wife, till this indulgence, as you think, has become as essential a want of your life as your daily food,—as the drunkard feels that alcohol is as essential as air to his existence and happiness; and so you impose on her a maternity which her soul abhors. You horribly tax her vital energies, “_without her consent_.” Murder is in her heart towards the uninvited and hated intruder you have introduced into the sanctuary of her life.