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other victim. The worm was in the core, and kept up a ceaseless labour in the bosom of the gentle and too susceptible Harding. CHAPTER XI. Several months had now elapsed since our marriage; and in that time, as might have been expected, my young wife and domestic associations had lost most of their attractions—in my eyes at least. My resources were now always out of doors—carousing sometimes, but frequently solitary and savage. My favorite pursuit—one that had been a passion in boyhood, and which contributed not a little to the sternness of my mood—was to take long walks into the neighboring country, with my fowling-piece on my shoulder, and, with this apology for my wanderings , I had contrived to become familiar with the forests in that neighborhood for fifteen miles round. It was in a ramble of this sort that I had first encountered Emily, and this habit furnished a sufficient reason to others, for those long absentings from home in which my time had been chiefly given up to her. Sometimes, on these excursions, Harding would become my companion; not that he was a sportsman, but simply because of his contemplative character of mind, which luxuriated, and was enthusiastic, in its admiration of the gloomy beauty of the thick woods. His presence did not interfere with my mood; indeed, although the cause was essentially different, his silence was a fitting similitude of mine. We wandered thus from one wood to another, through path and cover, frequently without a word, and living only in our thoughts. It was on one of these occasions, while traversing a dense thicket, girded in by heavy trees, and almost impervious from the undergrowth, that we sat down together upon the trunk of fallen pine, and fell into conversation. The sun was completely shut out from the spot, and the solemn hush of all things about us was such as to make the train of thought in our minds much gloomier than ever. Our dialogue was necessarily prompted by the circumstances of our situation, and, as if impelled throughout the whole scene by an irresistible monitor, I remarked to him thus, in spite my own consciousness of the danger of such a topic— “Harding, this is just the spot, it appears to me, that one would choose in which to commit a murder!” “Horrible!” was his reply,“what could put such a thought in your head? This, is just the spot now which I should select for the inception of a divine poem. The awful stillness—the solemn gloom—the singular CHAPTER X 33 Simms-MFaber final pages:Layout 1 4/10/08 11:50 AM Page 33 and sweet monotony of sound, coming from the breeze through the bending tree tops, all seem well calculated to beget fine thoughts,— daring fancies—bold and striking emotions.” “You talk of taking life, as if it were the crowning crime—it appears to me an error of society by which the existence of a being, limited to a duration of years, is invested with so much importance. A few years lopt from the life of an individual is certainly no such loss, shortening as it must, so many of his cares and troubles; and the true standard by which we should determine upon a deed, is the amount of good or evil which it may confer upon the person or persons immediately interested.” “That is not the standard,” was his reply—“since that would be making a reference to varying and improper tribunals, to determine upon principles which should be even and immutable. To some men, from the operation of circumstances, or from their own improvidence, death would be welcome even by violence; and the feeling with which such a man would submit to the executioner, can surely afford no standard by which to determine upon the fate of others not so situated, and not having the same feeling or condition with himself. Life is a sacred something which we do not venerate enough. It is considered quite too lightly by society, and it appears to me, if we believe for a moment in the immortality of the soul and the doctrine of rewards and punishments , we have not the right, even in the case of the criminal, to doom him to a loss of it. The idea is horrible which conceives the murder of a human being, even according to the standard you suggest; for, leave the choice but a...

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