then questioned her as to the changes that had taken place at home, the
causes of Adrian's absence, and her secluded life.

The tears that suffused my sister's eyes when I mentioned our friend, and
her heightened colour seemed to vouch for the truth of the reports that had
reached me. But their import was too terrible for me to give instant credit
to my suspicion. Was there indeed anarchy in the sublime universe of
Adrian's thoughts, did madness scatter the well-appointed legions, and was
he no longer the lord of his own soul? Beloved friend, this ill world was
no clime for your gentle spirit; you delivered up its governance to false
humanity, which stript it of its leaves ere winter-time, and laid bare its
quivering life to the evil ministration of roughest winds. Have those
gentle eyes, those "channels of the soul" lost their meaning, or do they
only in their glare disclose the horrible tale of its aberrations? Does
that voice no longer "discourse excellent music?" Horrible, most horrible!
I veil my eyes in terror of the change, and gushing tears bear witness to
my sympathy for this unimaginable ruin.

In obedience to my request Perdita detailed the melancholy circumstances
that led to this event.

The frank and unsuspicious mind of Adrian, gifted as it was by every
natural grace, endowed with transcendant powers of intellect, unblemished
by the shadow of defect (unless his dreadless independence of thought was
to be construed into one), was devoted, even as a victim to sacrifice, to
his love for Evadne. He entrusted to her keeping the treasures of his soul,
his aspirations after excellence, and his plans for the improvement of
mankind. As manhood dawned upon him, his schemes and theories, far from
being changed by personal and prudential motives, acquired new strength
from the powers he felt arise within him; and his love for Evadne became