t intolerable to his ears, the last moments of a man like Falkland?
It is impossible. There must have been some dreadful mistake in the
train of argument that persuaded me to be the author of this hateful
scene. There must have been a better and more magnanimous remedy to the
evils under which I groaned."

It was too late: the mistake I had committed was now gone past all power
of recall. Here was Falkland, solemnly brought before a magistrate to
answer to a charge of murder. Here I stood, having already declared
myself the author of the charge, gravely and sacredly pledged to support
it. This was my situation; and, thus situated, I was called upon
immediately to act. My whole frame shook. I would eagerly have consented
that that moment should have been the last of my existence. I however
believed, that the conduct now most indispensably incumbent on me was to
lay the emotions of my soul naked before my hearers. I looked first at
Mr. Falkland, and then at the magistrate and attendants, and then at Mr.
Falkland again. My voice was suffocated with agony. I began:--

"Why cannot I recall the last four days of my life? How was it possible
for me to be so eager, so obstinate, in a purpose so diabolical? Oh,
that I had listened to the expostulations of the magistrate that hears
me, or submitted to the well-meant despotism of his authority! Hitherto
I have been only miserable; henceforth I shall account myself base!
Hitherto, though hardly treated by mankind, I stood acquitted at the bar
of my own conscience. I had not filled up the measure of my
wretchedness!

"Would to God it were possible for me to retire from this scene without
uttering another word! I would brave the consequences--I would submit to
any imputation of cowardice, falsehood, and profligacy, rather than add
to the weight of misfortune with which Mr. Falkland is overwhelmed. But
the situation, and the demands of Mr. Falkland himself, forbid me. He,
in compassion for whose fallen state I would willingly forget every
interest of my own, would compel me to accuse, that he might enter upon
his justification. I will confess every sentiment of my heart.

"No penitence, no anguish, can expiate the folly and the cruelty of this
last act I have perpetrated. But Mr. Falkland well knows--I affirm it in
his presence--how unwillingly I have proceeded to this extremity. I
have reverenced him; he was worthy of reverence: I have loved him; he
was endowed with qualities that