same time they gave strychnine to their only child. The effort failed,
and they were placed on trial for attempted murder. In the Court a
letter was read which the poor wretch had written before attempting his
life:-

MY DEAREST GEORGE,--Twelve months have I now passed of a most
miserable and struggling existence, and I really cannot stand it any
more. I am completely worn out, and relations who could assist me
won't do any more, for such was uncle's last intimation. Never mind;
he can't take his money and comfort with him, and in all probability
will find himself in the same boat as myself. He never enquires
whether I am starving or not. #3--a mere flea-bite to him--would
have put us straight, and with his security and good interest might
have obtained me a good situation long ago. I can face poverty and
degradation no longer, and would sooner die than go to the workhouse,
whatever may be the awful consequences of the steps we have taken.
We have, God forgive us, taken our darling Arty with us out of pure
love and affection, so that the darling should never be cuffed about,
or reminded or taunted with his heartbroken parents' crime. My poor
wife has done her best at needle-work, washing, house-minding, &c.,
in fact, anything and everything that would bring in a shilling; but it
would only keep us in semi-starvation. I have now done six weeks'
travelling from morning till night, and not received one farthing for
it, If that is not enough to drive you mad--wickedly mad--I don't
know what is. No bright prospect anywhere; no ray of hope.

May God Almighty forgive us for this heinous sin, and have mercy on our
sinful souls, is the prayer of your miserable, broken-hearted, but
loving brother, Arthur. We have now done everything that we can
possibly think of to avert this wicked proceeding, but can discover no