 was also unaccounted for, as none but Watson knew I had

lights there, which in my fright I had forgot to extinguish.
From the time I recovered my reason, though anxious for his fate beyond expression, I never mentioned Mr. Evelyn's name. I concealed all the misery I felt within my tortured boson; nay had that kind of tenderness for Watson, which Macbeth expresses for his wife, when he says, "Be innocent of the knowledge."—The unhappiness of my mind had humbled me so far, as to make me look up with respect to my servant—She was deceived by my outward semblance, and thought that grief for Mr. Harley's shocking and untimely fate was all the woe that preyed upon my heart. She delivered me a letter which had come by post enclosed to her—It was from Henry; it lies before me now; and if my tears will give me leave, I'll copy it.

TO LADY JULIANA HARLEY.
Most loved and most unhappy of your sex, how shall the cause of all your woes dare to approach you? O Julia, could I wash away my crimes with my heart's blood, I would freely let it out.
Yet do not think me worse than I unhappily am—tho' stained with blood, I am not a vile murderer—Heaven knows how earnestly I sought to avoid the fatal contest that has destroyed our every hope of mutual happiness! He called me villain, base adulterer! Impatient as my nature is, I yet forbore to answer him; for conscious innocence disclaimed the opprobrious terms.—He struck me, Julia—I could bear no more, but bad him use the weapons of a gentleman—We

both had pistols; he discharged one, but missed me; I fired one of mine in the air. He again presented at me, swearing with the most dreadful imprecation, that if I escaped his second fire, you should be his victim the next instant.
My calmness left me; your danger roused my passions; we both fired at the same instant—I saw the unhappy Harley fall—I threw myself upon my knees beside him, but soon discovered that all help was vain.—Heaven is my witness! that at that moment, I wished to have been in his situation rather than my own.—But when I thought of what you must have suffered had he lived, it in some measure reconciled me to his death; tho' never, Julia, will my mind know peace, for having been the unhappy instrument of his untimely fate.

I was a thousand times tempted to give myself up to justice, and expiate my crime by
