“She had been left fatherless and motherless. She had devoted herself to the man whom she had been taught, by his ardent professions, to look upon as her only stay, and whom she still loved; he had perjured himself, and abandoned her.
“She had hid her head in shame and misery from her friends, and by incessant toil had sometimes procured herself food: but she became a mother, and could no longer work. She had pined away with her babe in a hovel: at last to see her child daily droop under her eyes, maddened her; she could bear it no longer. There might be a happier lot, she thought, in another world, where at least there were no deceivers, and so resolved to flee from this.
“‘And is the father of your child rich, and able to provide food for it?’ I inquired.
“‘He is,’ she replied.
“‘Recollect,’ I said, ‘that however desperate your condition may be, still you have no right to take away the life of your child. The little innocent has been brought into the world by you, it is, therefore, your duty to devote your life to its care and preservation.’
“She wept.
“I had no money—my coat was scarcely good enough to protect me from the cold—I still had two buckles on my shoes, with which I had not parted because I knew their value would scarcely procure me a meal. I took them off and laid them on the babe. ‘Those may serve to get your child some milk,’ I said. She refused them. I pressed her to accept them for the child, and after having obtained a promise that she would never again attempt to destroy herself I conducted her off the bridge.
“The history of the poor girl had made a deep impression on me; I was agitated, so I retraced my steps, and seated myself down again; but I could no longer study the stars: the mother and child were ever present to my mind. That girl was once happy, I thought. She may have shone in virtue and accomplishments. Now she is loaded with misery. And what has changed her condition thus? was it the visitation of Providence? was it sudden illness? was it her own crime? She had fallen a victim to her own virtues, her own confidence, her own fondness, her own gentleness. The angelic nature of her sex, was worked upon for her destruction, and after having been deceived, she was discarded,—she! nay,—not she alone—but the innocent child—too young to offend, too helpless to be criminal—was also thrown on the wide, unfeeling world. Has one human creature any right thus to load another with misery, to drive another to desperation, to convert the life of another—aye, and by a most villainous method—into a period of enduring suffering and anguish? The man, too, who hast blasted her happiness, is rich, and perhaps, at this moment, when his victim and child are perishing of starvation, is surrounded by his merry minions and lemans, and is squandering away that wealth, of which the thousandth part would save his child from famine. I could no longer restrain myself. ‘Great Ruler of the Universe,’ I exclaimed, ‘canst Thou permit these things? How is it, that thou, who hast filled the space, that confounds human understanding, with such worlds of beautiful worlds; that hast so wisely adjusted their incomprehensible systems, that all revolve and move in perfect harmony, and submit implicitly to the great laws that Thou hast imposed upon them:—how is it that Thou hast given such license to one of thy humble creatures, that he, apparently uncontrolled, can stride in wickedness over this fair world, and blast the life and happiness which Thou, also bestowed?—This, at least, is not wisdom!...’
“Hush! blasphemer, hush,” a spirit seemed to whisper to me.