If, unaffected by the scene he had witnessed, William sat down to dinner
with an appetite, let not the reader conceive that the most distant
suspicion had struck his mind of his ever having seen, much less
familiarly known, the poor offender whom he had just condemned. Still
this forgetfulness did not proceed from the want of memory for Agnes. In
every peevish or heavy hour passed with his wife, he was sure to think of
her: yet it was self-love, rather than love of _her_, that gave rise to
these thoughts: he felt the lack of female sympathy and tenderness to
soften the fatigue of studious labour; to sooth a sullen, a morose
disposition--he felt he wanted comfort for himself, but never once
considered what were the wants of Agnes.
In the chagrin of a barren bed, he sometimes thought, too, even on the
child that Agnes bore him; but whether it were male or female, whether a
beggar in the streets, or dead--various and important public occupations
forbade him to waste time to inquire. Yet the poor, the widow, and the
orphan, frequently shared William's ostentatious bounty. He was the
president of many excellent charities, gave largely, and sometimes
instituted benevolent societies for the unhappy; for he delighted to load
the poor with obligations, and the rich with praise.
There are persons like him, who love to do every good but that which
their immediate duty requires. There are servants who will serve every
one more cheerfully than their masters; there are men who will distribute
money liberally to all except their creditors; and there are wives who
will love all mankind better than their husbands. Duty is a familiar
word which has little effect upon an ordinary mind; and as ordinary minds
make a vast majority, we have acts of generosity, valour, self-denial,
and bounty, where smaller pains would constitute greater virtues. Had
William followed the _common_ dictates of charity; had he adopted private
pity, instead of public munificence; had he cast an eye at home before he
sought abroad for objects of compassion, Agnes had been preserved from an
ignominious death, and he had been preserved from--_Remorse_--the
tortures of which he for the first time proved, on reading a printed
sheet of paper, accidentally thrown in his way, a few days after he had
left the town in which he had condemned her to die.
"_March the_ 12th, 179-
"The last dying words, speech, and confession; birth, parentage, and
education; life, character, and behaviour, of Agnes Primrose, who was
executed this morning, between the hours of ten and twelve, pursuant
to the sentence passed upon her by the Honourable Justice Norwynne.
"AGNES PRIMROSE was born of honest parents, in the village of Anfield,
in the county of ---" [William started at the name of the village and
county]; "but being led astray by the arts and flattery of seducing
man, she fell from the paths of virtue, and took to bad company, which
instilled into her young heart all their evil ways, and at length
brought her to this untimely end. So she hopes her death will be a
warning to all young persons of her own sex, how they listen to the
praises and courtship of young men, especially of those who are their
betters; for they only court to deceive. But the said Agnes freely
forgives all persons who have done her injury, or given her sorrow,
from the young man who first won her heart to the jury who found her
guilty, and the judge who condemned her to death.
"And she acknowledges the justice of her sentence, not only in respect
of the crime for which she suffers, but in regard to many other
heinous sins of which she has been guilty, more especially that of
once attempting to commit a murder upon her own helpless child, for
which guilt she now considers the vengeance of God has overtaken her,
to which she is patiently resigned, and departs in peace and charity
with all the world, praying the Lord to have mercy on her parting
soul."
"POSTSCRIPT TO THE CONFESSION.
"So great was this unhappy woman's terror of death, and the awful
judgment that was to follow, that when sentence was pronounced upon
her, she fell into a swoon, from that into convulsions, from which she
never entirely recovered, but was delirious to the time of her
execution, except that short interval in which she made her confession
to the clergyman who attended her. She has left one child, a youth
about sixteen, who has never forsaken his mother during all the time
of her imprisonment, but waited on her with true filial duty; and no
sooner was her fatal sentence passed than he began to droop, and now
lies dangerously ill near the prison from which she is released by
death. During the loss of her senses, the said Agnes Primrose raved
continually on this child; and, asking for pen, ink, and paper, wrote
an incoherent petition to the judge recommending the youth to his
protection and mercy. But notwithstanding this insanity, she behaved
with composure and resignation when the fatal morning arrived in which
she was to be launched into eternity. She prayed devoutly during the
last hour, and seemed to have her whole mind fixed on the world to
which she was going. A crowd of spectators followed her to the fatal
spot, most of whom returned weeping at the recollection of the
fervency with which she prayed, and the impression which her dreadful
state seemed to make upon her."
No sooner had the name of "Anfield" struck William than a thousand
reflections and remembrances flashed on his mind to give him full
conviction whom it was he had judged and sentenced. He recollected the
sad remains of Agnes, such as he once had known her; and now he wondered
how his thoughts could have been absent from an object so pitiable, so
worthy of his attention, as not to give him even a suspicion who she was,
either from her name, or from her person, during the whole trial!
But wonder, astonishment, horror, and every other sensation was absorbed
by--_Remorse_:--it wounded, it stabbed, it rent his hard heart, as it
would do a tender one. It havocked on his firm inflexible mind, as it
would on a weak and pliant brain! Spirit of Agnes! look down, and behold
all your wrongs revenged! William feels--_Remorse_.