You call upon me for a confession of my offences. What a strange fortune
is mine! That a human being, in the present circumstances, should make
this demand, and that I should be driven, by an irresistible necessity,
to comply with it! That here should terminate my calamitous series! That
my destiny should call upon me to lie down and die, in a region so
remote from the scene of my crime; at a distance so great from all that
witnessed and endured their consequences!
You believe me to be an assassin. You require me to explain the motives
that induced me to murder the innocent. While this is your belief, and
this the scope of your expectations, you may be sure of my compliance. I
could resist every demand but this.
For what purpose have I come hither? Is it to relate my story? Shall I
calmly sit here, and rehearse the incidents of my life? Will my strength
be adequate to this rehearsal? Let me recollect the motives that
governed me, when I formed this design. Perhaps a strenuousness may be
imparted by them which, otherwise, I cannot hope to obtain. For the sake
of those, I consent to conjure up the ghost of the past, and to begin a
tale that, with a fortitude like mine, I am not sure that I shall live
to finish.
You are unacquainted with the man before you. The inferences which you
have drawn, with regard to my designs and my conduct, are a tissue of
destructive errors. You, like others, are blind to the most momentous
consequences of your own actions. You talk of imparting consolation. You
boast the beneficence of your intentions. You set yourself to do me a
benefit. What are the effects of your misguided zeal and random efforts?
They have brought my life to a miserable close. They have shrouded the
last scene of it in blood. They have put the seal to my perdition.
My misery has been greater than has fallen to the lot of mortals. Yet it
is but beginning. My present path, full as it is of asperities, is
better than that into which I must enter when this is abandoned.
Perhaps, if my pilgrimage had been longer, I might, at some future day,
have lighted upon hope. In consequence of your interference, I am
forever debarred from it. My existence is henceforward to be invariable.
The woes that are reserved for me are incapable alike of alleviation or
intermission.
But I came not hither to recriminate. I came not hither to accuse
others, but myself. I know the retribution that is appointed for guilt
like mine. It is just. I may shudder at the foresight of my punishment
and shrink in the endurance of it; but I shall be indebted for part of
my torment to the vigour of my understanding, which teaches me that my
punishment is just. Why should I procrastinate my doom and strive to
render my burden more light? It is but just that it should crush me. Its
procrastination is impossible. The stroke is already felt. Even now I
drink of the cup of retribution. A change of being cannot aggravate my
woe. Till consciousness itself be extinct, the worm that gnaws me will
never perish.
Fain would I be relieved from this task. Gladly would I bury in oblivion
the transactions of my life. But no! My fate is uniform. The demon that
controlled me at first is still in the fruition of power. I am entangled
in his fold, and every effort that I make to escape only involves me in
deeper ruin. I need not conceal, for all the consequences of disclosure
are already experienced. I cannot endure a groundless imputation, though
to free me from it I must create and justify imputations still more
atrocious. My story may at least be brief. If the agonies of remembrance
must be awakened afresh, let me do all that in me lies to shorten them.
I was born in the county of Armagh. My parents were of the better sort
of peasants, and were able to provide me with the rudiments of
knowledge. I should doubtless have trodden in their footsteps, and have
spent my life in the cultivation of their scanty fields, if an event had
not happened, Which, for a long time, I regarded as the most fortunate
of my life, but which I now regard as the scheme of some infernal agent,
and as the primary source of all my calamities.
My father's farm was a portion of the demesne of one who resided wholly
in the metropolis and consigned the management of his estates to his
stewards and retainers. This person married a lady who brought him great
accession of fortune. Her wealth was her only recommendation in the eyes
of her husband, (whose understanding was depraved by the prejudices of
luxury and rank,) but was the least of her attractions in the estimate
of reasonable beings.
They passed some years together. If their union were not a source of
misery to the lady, she was indebted for her tranquillity to the force
of her mind. She was, indeed, governed, in every action of her life, by
the precepts of duty, while her husband listened to no calls but those
of pernicious dissipation. He was immersed in all the vices that grow
out of opulence and a mistaken education.
Happily for his wife, his career was short. He was enraged at the
infidelity of his mistress, to purchase whose attachment he had lavished
two-thirds of his fortune. He called the paramour, by whom he had been
supplanted, to the field. The contest was obstinate, and terminated in
the death of the challenger.
This event freed the lady from many distressful and humiliating
obligations. She determined to profit by her newly-acquired
independence, to live thenceforward conformably to her notions of right,
to preserve and improve, by schemes of economy, the remains of her
fortune, and to employ it in the diffusion of good. Her plans made it
necessary to visit her estates in the distant provinces.
During her abode in the manor of which my father was a vassal, she
visited his cottage. I was at that time a child. She was pleased with my
vivacity and promptitude, and determined to take me under her own
protection. My parents joyfully acceded to her proposal, and I returned
with her to the capital.
She had an only son of my own age. Her design, in relation to me, was
that I should be educated with her child, and that an affection, in this
way, might be excited in me towards my young master, which might render
me, when we should attain to manhood, one of his most faithful and
intelligent dependants. I enjoyed, equally with him, all the essential
benefits of education. There were certain accomplishments, from which I
was excluded, from the belief that they were unsuitable to my rank and
station. I was permitted to acquire others, which, had she been actuated
by true discernment, she would, perhaps, have discovered to be far more
incompatible with a servile station. In proportion as my views were
refined and enlarged by history and science, I was likely to contract a
thirst of independence, and an impatience of subjection and poverty.
When the period of childhood and youth was past, it was thought proper
to send her son to improve his knowledge and manners by a residence on
the continent. This young man was endowed with splendid abilities. His
errors were the growth of his condition. All the expedients that
maternal solicitude and wisdom could suggest were employed to render him
a useful citizen. Perhaps this wisdom was attested by the large share of
excellence which he really possessed; and that his character was not
unblemished proved only that no exertions could preserve him from the
vices that are inherent in wealth and rank, and which flow from the
spectacle of universal depravity.
As to me, it would be folly to deny that I had benefited by my
opportunities of improvement. I fulfilled the expectation of my
mistress, in one respect. I was deeply imbued with affection for her
son, and reverence for herself. Perhaps the force of education was
evinced in those particulars, without reflecting any credit on the
directors of it. Those might merit the name of defects, which were
regarded by them as accomplishments. My unfavourable qualities, like
those of my master, were imputed to my condition, though, perhaps, the
difference was advantageous to me, since the vices of servitude are less
hateful than those of tyranny.
It was resolved that I should accompany my master in his travels, in
quality of favourite domestic. My principles, whatever might be their
rectitude, were harmonious and flexible. I had devoted my life to the
service of my patron. I had formed conceptions of what was really
conducive to his interest, and was not to be misled by specious
appearances. If my affection had not stimulated my diligence, I should
have found sufficient motives in the behaviour of his mother. She
condescended to express her reliance on my integrity and judgment. She
was not ashamed to manifest, at parting, the tenderness of a mother, and
to acknowledge that all her tears were not shed on her son's account. I
had my part in the regrets that called them forth.
During our absence, I was my master's constant attendant. I corresponded
with his mother, and made the conduct of her son the principal theme of
my letters. I deemed it my privilege, as well as duty, to sit in
judgment on his actions, to form my opinions without regard to selfish
considerations, and to avow them whenever the avowal tended to benefit.
Every letter which I wrote, particularly those in which his behaviour
was freely criticized, I allowed him to peruse. I would, on no account,
connive at or participate in the slightest irregularity. I knew the duty
of my station, and assumed no other control than that which resulted
from the avoiding of deceit, and the open expression of my sentiments.
The youth was of a noble spirit, but his firmness was wavering. He
yielded to temptations which a censor less rigorous than I would have
regarded as venial, or, perhaps, laudable. My duty required me to set
before him the consequences of his actions, and to give impartial and
timely information to his mother.
He could not brook a monitor. The more he needed reproof the less
supportable it became. My company became every day less agreeable, till
at length there appeared a necessity of parting. A separation took
place, but not as enemies. I never lost his respect. In his
representations to his mother, he was just to my character and services.
My dismission was not allowed to injure my fortune, and his mother
considered this event merely as a new proof of the inflexible
consistency of my principles.
On this change in my situation, she proposed to me to become a member of
her own family. No proposal could be more acceptable. I was fully
acquainted with the character of this lady, and had nothing to fear from
injustice and caprice. I did not regard her with filial familiarity, but
my attachment and reverence would have done honour to that relation. I
performed for her the functions of a steward. Her estates in the city
were put under my direction. She placed boundless confidence in my
discretion and integrity, and consigned to me the payment, and, in some
degree, the selection and government, of her servants. My station was a
servile one, yet most of the evils of servitude were unknown to me. My
personal ease and independence were less infringed than that of those
who are accounted the freest members of society. I derived a sort of
authority and dignity from the receipt and disbursement of money. The
tenants and debtors of the lady were, in some respects, mine. It was,
for the most part, on my justice and lenity that they depended for their
treatment. My lady's household-establishment was large and opulent. Her
servants were my inferiors and menials. My leisure was considerable, and
my emoluments large enough to supply me with every valuable instrument
of improvement or pleasure.
These were reasons why I should be contented with my lot. These
circumstances alone would have rendered it more eligible than any other,
but it had additional and far more powerful recommendations, arising
from the character of Mrs. Lorimer, and from the relation in which she
allowed me to stand to her.
How shall I enter upon this theme? How shall I expatiate upon
excellencies which it was my fate to view in their genuine colours, to
adore with an immeasurable and inextinguishable ardour, and which,
nevertheless, it was my hateful task to blast and destroy? Yet I will
not be spared. I shall find, in the rehearsal, new incitements to
sorrow. I deserve to be supreme in misery, and will not be denied the
full measure of a bitter retribution.
No one was better qualified to judge of her excellencies. A casual
spectator might admire her beauty, and the dignity of her demeanour.
From the contemplation of those, he might gather motives for loving or
revering her. Age was far from having withered her complexion, or
destroyed the evenness of her skin; but no time could rob her of the
sweetness and intelligence which animated her features. Her habitual
beneficence was bespoken in every look. Always in search of occasions
for doing good, always meditating scenes of happiness, of which she was
the author, or of distress, for which she was preparing relief, the most
torpid insensibility was, for a time, subdued, and the most depraved
smitten by charms of which, in another person, they would not perhaps
have been sensible.
A casual visitant might enjoy her conversation, might applaud the
rectitude of her sentiments, the richness of her elocution, and her
skill in all the offices of politeness. But it was only for him who
dwelt constantly under the same roof, to mark the inviolable consistency
of her actions and opinions, the ceaseless flow of her candour, her
cheerfulness, and her benevolence. It was only for one who witnessed her
behaviour at all hours, in sickness and in health, her management of
that great instrument of evil and good, money, her treatment of her son,
her menials, and her kindred, rightly to estimate her merits.
The intercourse between us was frequent, but of a peculiar kind. My
office in her family required me often to see her, to submit schemes to
her consideration, and receive her directions. At these times she
treated me in a manner in some degree adapted to the difference of rank
and the inferiority of my station, and yet widely dissimilar from that
which a different person would have adopted in the same circumstances.
The treatment was not that of an equal and a friend, but still more
remote was it from that of a mistress. It was merely characterized by
affability and condescension, but as such it had no limits.
She made no scruple to ask my counsel in every pecuniary affair, to
listen to my arguments, and decide conformably to what, after sufficient
canvassings and discussions, should appear to be right. When the direct
occasions of our interview were dismissed, I did not of course withdraw.
To detain or dismiss me was indeed at her option; but, if no engagement
interfered, she would enter into general conversation. There was none
who could with more safety to herself have made the world her confessor;
but the state of society in which she lived imposed certain limitations
on her candour. In her intercourse with me there were fewer restraints
than on any other occasion. My situation had made me more intimately
acquainted with domestic transactions, with her views respecting her
son, and with the terms on which she thought proper to stand with those
whom old acquaintance or kindred gave some title to her good offices. In
addition to all those motives to a candid treatment of me, there were
others which owed their efficacy to her maternal regard for me, and to
the artless and unsuspecting generosity of her character.
Her hours were distributed with the utmost regularity, and appropriated
to the best purposes. She selected her society without regard to any
qualities but probity and talents. Her associates were numerous, and her
evening conversations embellished with all that could charm the senses
or instruct the understanding. This was a chosen field for the display
of her magnificence; but her grandeur was unostentatious, and her
gravity unmingled with haughtiness. From these my station excluded me;
but I was compensated by the freedom of her communications in the
intervals. She found pleasure in detailing to me the incidents that
passed on those occasions, in rehearsing conversations and depicting
characters. There was an uncommon portion of dramatic merit in her
recitals, besides valuable and curious information. One uniform effect
was produced in me by this behaviour. Each day I thought it impossible
for my attachment to receive any new accessions, yet the morrow was sure
to produce some new emotion of respect or of gratitude, and to set the
unrivalled accomplishments of this lady in a new and more favourable
point of view. I contemplated no change in my condition. The necessity
of change, whatever were the alternative, would have been a subject of
piercing regret. I deemed my life a cheap sacrifice in her cause. No
time would suffice to discharge the debt of gratitude that was due to
her. Yet it was continually accumulating. If an anxious thought ever
invaded my bosom, it arose from this source.
It was no difficult task faithfully to execute the functions assigned to
me. No merit could accrue to me from this source. I was exposed to no
temptation. I had passed the feverish period of youth. No contagious
example had contaminated my principles. I had resisted, the allurements
of sensuality and dissipation incident to my age. My dwelling was in
pomp and splendour. I had amassed sufficient to secure me, in case of
unforeseen accidents, in the enjoyment of competence. My mental
resources were not despicable, and the external means of intellectual
gratification were boundless. I enjoyed an unsullied reputation. My
character was well known in that sphere which my lady occupied, not only
by means of her favourable report, but in numberless ways in which it
was my fortune to perform personal services to others.