y comfort;
Death is the privilege of human nature,
And life without it were not worth the taking.
Thither the poor, the prisoner, and the mourner
Fly for relief, and lay their burdens down.'

You have forgiven me, Julia; my mother has assured me of her
forgiveness; and what have I more to wish? My heart is much lightened by
these kind assurances; they will be a great support to me in the
dreadful hour which awaits me." "What mean you, Eliza?" said I. "I fear
some dreadful purpose labors in your mind." "O, no," she replied; "you
may be assured your fear is groundless. I know not what I say; my brain
is on fire; I am all confusion. Leave me, Julia; when I have had a
little rest, I shall be composed. These letters have almost distracted
me; but they are written, and I am comparatively easy." "I will not
leave you, Eliza," said I, "unless you will go directly to bed, and
endeavor to rest." "I will," said she, "and the sooner the better." I
tenderly embraced her, and retired, though not to bed. About an hour
after, I returned to her chamber, and opening the door very softly,
found her apparently asleep. I acquainted Mrs. Wharton with her
situation, which was a great consolation to us both, and encouraged us
to go to bed: having suffered much in my mind, and being much fatigued,
I soon fell asleep; but the rattling of a carriage, which appeared to
stop a little distance from the house, awoke me. I listened a moment,
and heard the door turn slowly on its hinges. I sprang from my bed, and
reached the window just in time to see a female handed into a chaise by
a man who hastily followed her, and drove furiously away. I at once
concluded they could be no other than Eliza and Major Sanford. Under
this impression I made no delay, but ran immediately to her chamber. A
candle was burning on the table, but Eliza was not there. I thought it
best to acquaint her mamma with the melancholy discovery, and, stepping
to her apartment for the purpose, found her rising. She had heard me
walk, and was anxious to know the cause. "What is the matter, Julia?"
said she; "what is the matter?" "Dear madam," said I, "arm yourself with
fortitude." "What new occurrence demands it?" rejoined she. "Eliza has
left us." "Left us! What mean you?" "She has just gone; I saw her handed
into a chaise, which instantly disappeared."

At this intelligence she gave a shriek, and fell back on her bed. I
alarmed the family, and by their assistance soon recov