“‘Her face is in keeping with her body and limbs,’ said my merry friend; ’she was a perfect beauty.  I have seen her in Chestnut Street every fair day for the last six months, until she got drunk and fell in the fire.’

“I now proceeded to business, but my flesh quivered as my knife penetrated the smooth fair breast of the subject.  Soon the skin and the flesh were removed, and the saw grated harshly as it severed the ribs.  When the heart was exposed, all bent forward instinctively, scanning it minutely, and seemingly with a curiosity to ascertain if it differed from those of others whose lives were different.

[Illustration:  It was Laura, the loved, adored Laura!—­P. 221]

“When the operation was over, my anxiety to see her face returned.  After an ineffectual effort to untie the cord, I became impatient, and seizing the knife that lay on the table, ripped open the muslin that hid her features!  My God!  The knife dropped from my hand, and penetrating the floor, quivered upright at my feet, while every member of my body trembled in unison with it!  I raised my hands with my fingers spread out to the utmost tension.  My mouth fell open, and my eyes felt as if they were straining to leap from my head. It was Laura—­the loved, adored Laura—­my Laura!  My friends heard me repeat the name, and marked with surprise and concern my inexplicably miserable condition.  They gathered round me, and endeavoured to divert my attention from the dead and now gory body.  It was in vain.  I heeded not their words, but gazed steadfastly at the sad features of Laura, with my hands still uplifted.  I was speechless, deaf, and immovable.  No tear moistened my eyes, but burning thoughts rushed through my brain.  My heart was cold, cold.  Ah, I remembered how I had loved her once!  I thought of the time when I was happy to bow down at her feet, and in good faith attribute to her many of the pure qualities pertaining to risen angels.  And this was her end!  The beautiful and innocent—­the loving and beloved—­the high born and wealthy—­the light and joy of fond and indulgent parents—­had been beguiled by the infernal tempter to make one step aside from the straight and narrow-path of duty—­and this was the result!  The sensitive and guileless girl became an incarnate fiend, callous to every modest and virtuous impulse—­scorned by the honest and good, and hating and undermining the redeeming principles of her species—­rushing from the high station which her ancestors had arduously laboured for generations to attain, and voluntarily taking up her abode in the dens of squalid misery and indelible pollution—­closing her eyes to the might and majesty of a merciful God, beckoning her to his eternal throne in heaven, and giving heed to the fatal devices of the enemy of mankind, till she was dragged down, down to the innermost depths of a raging and roaring hell!  Such was the fate of Laura.  Such is the fate of thousands who willingly err, though it be ever so slight, for the sake of enjoying an impious gratification.  Poor Laura!  Oh, how I loved her!  But it is bootless to think of her now.