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Elizabeth alone had the power to draw me from these fits; her

gentle voice would soothe me when transported by passion and

inspire me with human feelings when sunk in torpor. She wept with

me and for me. When reason returned, she would remonstrate and

endeavour to inspire me with resignation. Ah! It is well for the

unfortunate to be resigned, but for the guilty there is no peace.

The agonies of remorse poison the luxury there is otherwise

sometimes found in indulging the excess of grief.

Soon after my arrival my father spoke of my immediate marriage

with Elizabeth. I remained silent.

"Have you, then, some other attachment?"

"None on earth. I love Elizabeth and look forward to our union

with delight. Let the day therefore be fixed; and on it I will

consecrate myself, in life or death, to the happiness of my

cousin."