now rests all her hopes; she forgets the world around her; she
sees, hears, desires nothing but him, and him only. He alone
occupies all her thoughts. Uncorrupted by the idle indulgence of
an enervating vanity, her affection moving steadily toward its
object, she hopes to become his, and to realise, in an everlasting
union with him, all that happiness which she sought, all that bliss
for which she longed. His repeated promises confirm her hopes:
embraces and endearments, which increase the ardour of her desires,
overmaster her soul. She floats in a dim, delusive anticipation
of her happiness; and her feelings become excited to their utmost
tension. She stretches out her arms finally to embrace the object
of all her wishes and her lover forsakes her. Stunned and bewildered,
she stands upon a precipice. All is darkness around her. No
prospect, no hope, no consolation -- forsaken by him in whom her
existence was centred! She sees nothing of the wide world before
her, thinks nothing of the many individuals who might supply the
void in her heart; she feels herself deserted, forsaken by the
world; and, blinded and impelled by the agony which wrings her
soul, she plunges into the deep, to end her sufferings in the broad
embrace of death. See here, Albert, the history of thousands; and
tell me, is not this a case of physical infirmity? Nature has no
way to escape from the labyrinth: her powers are exhausted: she
can contend no longer, and the poor soul must die.

"Shame upon him who can look on calmly, and exclaim, 'The foolish
girl! she should have waited; she should have allowed time to wear
off the impression; her despair would have been softened, and she
would have found another lover to comfort her.' One might as well
say, 'The fool, to die of a fever! why did he not wait till his
strength was restored, till his blood became calm? all would then