It is as I foreboded. The presage with which I was visited was
prophetic. I am now to record a new and terrible revolution of my
fortune and my mind.
Having made experiment of various situations with one uniform result, I
at length determined to remove myself, if possible, from the reach of my
persecutor, by going into voluntary banishment from my native soil. This
was my last resource for tranquillity, for honest fame, for those
privileges to which human life is indebted for the whole of its value.
"In some distant climate," said I, "surely I may find that security
which is necessary to persevering pursuit; surely I may lift my head
erect, associate with men upon the footing of a man, acquire
connections, and preserve them!" It is inconceivable with what ardent
Teachings of the soul I aspired to this termination.
This last consolation was denied me by the inexorable Falkland.
At the time the project was formed I was at no great distance from the
east coast of the island, and I resolved to take ship at Harwich, and
pass immediately into Holland. I accordingly repaired to that place, and
went, almost as soon as I arrived, to the port. But there was no vessel
perfectly ready to sail. I left the port, and withdrew to an inn, where,
after some time, I retired to a chamber. I was scarcely there before the
door of the room was opened, and the man whose countenance was the most
hateful to my eyes, Gines, entered the apartment. He shut the door as
soon as he entered.
"Youngster," said he, "I have a little private intelligence to
communicate to you. I come as a friend, and that I may save you a
labour-in-vain trouble. If you consider what I have to say in that
light, it will be the better for you. It is my business now, do you see,
for want of a better, to see that you do not break out of bounds. Not
that I much matter having one man for my employer, or dancing attendance
after another's heels; but I have special kindness for you, for some
good turns that you wot of, and therefore I do not stand upon
ceremonies! You have led me a very pretty round already; and, out of the
love I bear you, you shall lead me as much further, if you will. But
beware the salt seas! They are out of my orders. You are a prisoner at
present, and I believe all your life will remain so. Thanks to the
milk-and-water softness of your former master! If I had the ordering of
these things, it should go with you in another fashion. As long as you
think proper, you are a prisoner within the rules; and the rules with
which the soft-hearted squire indulges you, are all England, Scotland,
and Wales. But you are not to go out of these climates. The squire is
determined you shall never pass the reach of his disposal. He has
therefore given orders that, whenever you attempt so to do, you shall be
converted from a prisoner at large to a prisoner in good earnest. A
friend of mine followed you just now to the harbour; I was within call;
and, if there had been any appearance of your setting your foot from
land, we should have been with you in a trice, and laid you fast by the
heels. I would advise you, for the future, to keep at a proper distance
from the sea, for fear of the worst. You see I tell you all this for
your good. For my part, I should be better satisfied if you were in
limbo, with a rope about your neck, and a comfortable bird's eye
prospect to the gallows: but I do as I am directed; and so good night to
you!"
The intelligence thus conveyed to me occasioned an instantaneous
revolution in both my intellectual and animal system. I disdained to
answer, or take the smallest notice of the fiend by whom it was
delivered. It is now three days since I received it, and from that
moment to the present my blood has been in a perpetual ferment. My
thoughts wander from one idea of horror to another, with incredible
rapidity. I have had no sleep. I have scarcely remained in one posture
for a minute together. It has been with the utmost difficulty that I
have been able to command myself far enough to add a few pages to my
story. But, uncertain as I am of the events of each succeeding hour, I
determined to force myself to the performance of this task. All is not
right within me. How it will terminate, God knows. I sometimes fear that
I shall be wholly deserted of my reason.
What--dark, mysterious, unfeeling, unrelenting tyrant!--is it come to
this? When Nero and Caligula swayed the Roman sceptre, it was a fearful
thing to offend these bloody rulers. The empire had already spread
itself from climate to climate, and from sea to sea. If their unhappy
victim fled to the rising of the sun, where the luminary of day seems to
us first to ascend from the waves of the ocean, the power of the tyrant
was still behind him. If he withdrew to the west, to Hesperian darkness,
and the shores of barbarian Thule, still he was not safe from his
gore-drenched foe.--Falkland! art thou the offspring, in whom the
lineaments of these tyrants are faithfully preserved? Was the world,
with all its climates, made in vain for thy helpless unoffending victim?
Tremble!
Tyrants have trembled, surrounded with whole armies of their
Janissaries! What should make thee inaccessible to my fury? No, I will
use no daggers! I will unfold a tale!--I will show thee to the world for
what thou art; and all the men that live, shall confess my truth!--Didst
thou imagine that I was altogether passive, a mere worm, organised to
feel sensations of pain, but no emotion of resentment? Didst thou
imagine that there was no danger in inflicting on me pains however
great, miseries however dreadful? Didst thou believe me impotent,
imbecile, and idiot-like, with no understanding to contrive thy ruin,
and no energy to perpetrate it?
I will tell a tale--! The justice of the country shall hear me! The
elements of nature in universal uproar shall not interrupt me! I will
speak with a voice more fearful than thunder!--Why should I be supposed
to speak from any dishonourable motive? I am under no prosecution now! I
shall not now appear to be endeavouring to remove a criminal indictment
from myself, by throwing it back on its author!--Shall I regret the ruin
that will overwhelm thee? Too long have I been tender-hearted and
forbearing! What benefit has ever resulted from my mistaken clemency?
There is no evil thou hast scrupled to accumulate upon me! Neither will
I be more scrupulous! Thou hast shown no mercy; and thou shalt receive
none!--I must be calm! bold as a lion, yet collected!
This is a moment pregnant with fate. I know--I think I know--that I will
be triumphant, and crush my seemingly omnipotent foe. But, should it be
otherwise, at least he shall not be every way successful. His fame shall
not be immortal as he thinks. These papers shall preserve the truth;
they shall one day be published, and then the world shall do justice on
us both. Recollecting that, I shall not die wholly without consolation.
It is not to be endured that falsehood and tyranny should reign for
ever.
How impotent are the precautions of man against the eternally existing
laws of the intellectual world! This Falkland has invented against me
every species of foul accusation. He has hunted me from city to city.
He has drawn his lines of circumvallation round me that I may not
escape. He has kept his scenters of human prey for ever at my heels. He
may hunt me out of the world.--In vain! With this engine, this little
pen, I defeat all his machinations; I stab him in the very point he was
most solicitous to defend!
Collins! I now address myself to you. I have consented that you should
yield me no assistance in my present terrible situation. I am content to
die rather than do any thing injurious to your tranquillity. But
remember, you are my father still! I conjure you, by all the love you
ever bore me, by the benefits you have conferred on me, by the
forbearance and kindness towards you that now penetrates my soul, by my
innocence--for, if these be the last words I shall ever write, I die
protesting my innocence!--by all these, or whatever tie more sacred has
influence on your soul, I conjure you, listen to my last request!
Preserve these papers from destruction, and preserve them from Falkland!
It is all I ask! I have taken care to provide a safe mode of conveying
them into your possession: and I have a firm confidence, which I will
not suffer to depart from me, that they will one day find their way to
the public!
The pen lingers in my trembling fingers! Is there any thing I have left
unsaid?--The contents of the fatal trunk, from which all my misfortunes
originated, I have never been able to ascertain. I once thought it
contained some murderous instrument or relic connected with the fate of
the unhappy Tyrrel. I am now persuaded that the secret it encloses, is a
faithful narrative of that and its concomitant transactions, written by
Mr. Falkland, and reserved in case of the worst, that, if by any
unforeseen event his guilt should come to be fully disclosed, it might
contribute to redeem the wreck of his reputation. But the truth or the
falsehood of this conjecture is of little moment. If Falkland shall
never be detected to the satisfaction of the world, such a narrative
will probably never see the light. In that case this story of mine may
amply, severely perhaps, supply its place.
I know not what it is that renders me thus solemn. I have a secret
foreboding, as if I should never again be master of myself. If I succeed
in what I now meditate respecting Falkland, my precaution in the
disposal of these papers will have been unnecessary; I shall no longer
be reduced to artifice and evasion. If I fail, the precaution will
appear to have been wisely chosen.
* * * * *
POSTSCRIPT.
All is over. I have carried into execution my meditated attempt. My
situation is totally changed; I now sit down to give an account of it.
For several weeks after the completion of this dreadful business, my
mind was in too tumultuous a state to permit me to write. I think I
shall now be able to arrange my thoughts sufficiently for that purpose.
Great God! how wondrous, how terrible are the events that have
intervened since I was last employed in a similar manner! It is no
wonder that my thoughts were solemn, and my mind filled with horrible
forebodings!
Having formed my resolution, I set out from Harwich, for the
metropolitan town of the county in which Mr. Falkland resided. Gines, I
well knew, was in my rear. That was of no consequence to me. He might
wonder at the direction I pursued, but he could not tell with what
purpose I pursued it. My design was a secret, carefully locked up in my
own breast. It was not without a sentiment of terror that I entered a
town which had been the scene of my long imprisonment. I proceeded to
the house of the chief magistrate the instant I arrived, that I might
give no time to my adversary to counterwork my proceeding.
I told him who I was, and that I was come from a distant part of the
kingdom, for the purpose of rendering him the medium of a charge of
murder against my former patron. My name was already familiar to him. He
answered, that he could not take cognizance of my deposition; that I was
an object of universal execration in that part of the world; and he was
determined upon no account to be the vehicle of my depravity.
I warned him to consider well what he was doing. I called upon him for
no favour; I only applied to him in the regular exercise of his
function. Would he take upon him to say that he had a right, at his
pleasure, to suppress a charge of this complicated nature? I had to
accuse Mr. Falkland of repeated murders. The perpetrator knew that I was
in possession of the truth upon the subject; and, knowing that, I went
perpetually in danger of my life from his malice and revenge. I was
resolved to go through with the business, if justice were to be obtained
from any court in England. Upon what pretence did he refuse my
deposition? I was in every respect a competent witness. I was of age to
understand the nature of an oath; I was in my perfect senses; I was
untarnished by the verdict of any jury, or the sentence of any judge.
His private opinion of my character could not alter the law of the land.
I demanded to be confronted with Mr. Falkland, and I was well assured I
should substantiate the charge to the satisfaction of the whole world.
If he did not think proper to apprehend him upon my single testimony, I
should be satisfied if he only sent him notice of the charge, and
summoned him to appear.
The magistrate, finding me thus resolute, thought proper a little to
lower his tone. He no longer absolutely refused to comply with my
requisition, but condescended to expostulate with me. He represented to
me Mr. Falkland's health, which had for some years been exceedingly
indifferent; his having been once already brought to the most solemn
examination upon this charge; the diabolical malice in which alone my
proceeding must have originated; and the ten-fold ruin it would bring
down upon my head. To all these representations my answer was short. "I
was determined to go on, and would abide the consequences." A summons
was at length granted, and notice sent to Mr. Falkland of the charge
preferred against him.
Three days elapsed before any further step could be taken in this
business. This interval in no degree contributed to tranquillise my
mind. The thought of preferring a capital accusation against, and
hastening the death of, such a man as Mr. Falkland, was by no means an
opiate to reflection. At one time I commended the action, either as just
revenge (for the benevolence of my nature was in a great degree turned
to gall), or as necessary self-defence, or as that which, in an
impartial and philanthropical estimate, included the smallest evil. At
another time I was haunted with doubts. But, in spite of these
variations of sentiment, I uniformly determined to persist! I felt as if
impelled by a tide of unconquerable impulse. The consequences were such
as might well appal the stoutest heart. Either the ignominious execution
of a man whom I had once so deeply venerated, and whom now I sometimes
suspected not to be without his claims to veneration; or a confirmation,
perhaps an increase, of the calamities I had so long endured. Yet these
I preferred to a state of uncertainty. I desired to know the worst; to
put an end to the hope, however faint, which had been so long my
torment; and, above all, to exhaust and finish the catalogue of
expedients that were at my disposition. My mind was worked up to a state
little short of frenzy. My body was in a burning fever with the
agitation of my thoughts. When I laid my hand upon my bosom or my head,
it seemed to scorch them with the fervency of its heat. I could not sit
still for a moment. I panted with incessant desire that the dreadful
crisis I had so eagerly invoked, were come, and were over.
After an interval of three days, I met Mr. Falkland in the presence of
the magistrate to whom I had applied upon the subject. I had only two
hours' notice to prepare myself; Mr. Falkland seeming as eager as I to
have the question brought to a crisis, and laid at rest for ever. I had
an opportunity, before the examination, to learn that Mr. Forester was
drawn by some business on an excursion on the continent; and that
Collins, whose health when I saw him was in a very precarious state, was
at this time confined with an alarming illness. His constitution had
been wholly broken by his West Indian expedition. The audience I met at
the house of the magistrate consisted of several gentlemen and others
selected for the purpose; the plan being, in some respects, as in the
former instance, to find a medium between the suspicious air of a
private examination, and the indelicacy, as it was styled, of an
examination exposed to the remark of every casual spectator.
I can conceive of no shock greater than that I received from the sight
of Mr. Falkland. His appearance on the last occasion on which we met
had been haggard, ghost-like, and wild, energy in his gestures, and
frenzy in his aspect. It was now the appearance of a corpse. He was
brought in in a chair, unable to stand, fatigued and almost destroyed by
the journey he had just taken. His visage was colourless; his limbs
destitute of motion, almost of life. His head reclined upon his bosom,
except that now and then he lifted it up, and opened his eyes with a
languid glance; immediately after which he sunk back into his former
apparent insensibility. He seemed not to have three hours to live. He
had kept his chamber for several weeks; but the summons of the
magistrate had been delivered to him at his bed-side, his orders
respecting letters and written papers being so peremptory that no one
dared to disobey them. Upon reading the paper he was seized with a very
dangerous fit; but, as soon as he recovered, he insisted upon being
conveyed, with all practicable expedition, to the place of appointment.
Falkland, in the most helpless state, was still Falkland, firm in
command, and capable to extort obedience from every one that approached
him.
What a sight was this to me! Till the moment that Falkland was presented
to my view, my breast was steeled to pity. I thought that I had coolly
entered into the reason of the case (passion, in a state of solemn and
omnipotent vehemence, always appears to be coolness to him in whom it
domineers), and that I had determined impartially and justly. I believed
that, if Mr. Falkland were permitted to persist in his schemes, we must
both of us be completely wretched. I believed that it was in my power,
by the resolution I had formed, to throw my share of this wretchedness
from me, and that his could scarcely be increased. It appeared therefore
to my mind, to be a mere piece of equity and justice, such as an
impartial spectator would desire, that one person should be miserable in
preference to two; that one person rather than two should be
incapacitated from acting his part, and contributing his share to the
general welfare. I thought that in this business I had risen superior to
personal considerations, and judged with a total neglect of the
suggestions of self-regard. It is true, Mr. Falkland was mortal, but,
notwithstanding his apparent decay, he might live long. Ought I to
submit to waste the best years of my life in my present wretched
situation? He had declared that his reputation should be for ever
inviolate; this was his ruling passion, the thought that worked his soul
to madness. He would probably therefore leave a legacy of persecution to
be received by me from the hands of Gines, or some other villain equally
atrocious, when he should himself be no more. Now or never was the time
for me to redeem my future life from endless woe.
But all these fine-spun reasonings vanished before the object that was
now presented to me. "Shall I trample upon a man thus dreadfully
reduced? Shall I point my animosity against one, whom the system of
nature has brought down to the grave? Shall I poison, with sounds the
most intolerable to his ears, the last moments of a man like Falkland?
It is impossible. There must have been some dreadful mistake in the
train of argument that persuaded me to be the author of this hateful
scene. There must have been a better and more magnanimous remedy to the
evils under which I groaned."
It was too late: the mistake I had committed was now gone past all power
of recall. Here was Falkland, solemnly brought before a magistrate to
answer to a charge of murder. Here I stood, having already declared
myself the author of the charge, gravely and sacredly pledged to support
it. This was my situation; and, thus situated, I was called upon
immediately to act. My whole frame shook. I would eagerly have consented
that that moment should have been the last of my existence. I however
believed, that the conduct now most indispensably incumbent on me was to
lay the emotions of my soul naked before my hearers. I looked first at
Mr. Falkland, and then at the magistrate and attendants, and then at Mr.
Falkland again. My voice was suffocated with agony. I began:--
"Why cannot I recall the last four days of my life? How was it possible
for me to be so eager, so obstinate, in a purpose so diabolical? Oh,
that I had listened to the expostulations of the magistrate that hears
me, or submitted to the well-meant despotism of his authority! Hitherto
I have been only miserable; henceforth I shall account myself base!
Hitherto, though hardly treated by mankind, I stood acquitted at the bar
of my own conscience. I had not filled up the measure of my
wretchedness!
"Would to God it were possible for me to retire from this scene without
uttering another word! I would brave the consequences--I would submit to
any imputation of cowardice, falsehood, and profligacy, rather than add
to the weight of misfortune with which Mr. Falkland is overwhelmed. But
the situation, and the demands of Mr. Falkland himself, forbid me. He,
in compassion for whose fallen state I would willingly forget every
interest of my own, would compel me to accuse, that he might enter upon
his justification. I will confess every sentiment of my heart.
"No penitence, no anguish, can expiate the folly and the cruelty of this
last act I have perpetrated. But Mr. Falkland well knows--I affirm it in
his presence--how unwillingly I have proceeded to this extremity. I
have reverenced him; he was worthy of reverence: I have loved him; he
was endowed with qualities that partook of divine.
"From the first moment I saw him, I conceived the most ardent
admiration. He condescended to encourage me; I attached myself to him
with the fulness of my affection. He was unhappy; I exerted myself with
youthful curiosity to discover the secret of his woe. This was the
beginning of misfortune.
"What shall I say?--He was indeed the murderer of Tyrrel; he suffered
the Hawkinses to be executed, knowing that they were innocent, and that
he alone was guilty. After successive surmises, after various
indiscretions on my part, and indications on his, he at length confided
to me at full the fatal tale!
"Mr. Falkland! I most solemnly conjure you to recollect yourself! Did I
ever prove myself unworthy of your confidence? The secret was a most
painful burthen to me; it was the extremest folly that led me
unthinkingly to gain possession of it; but I would have died a thousand
deaths rather than betray it. It was the jealousy of your own thoughts,
and the weight that hung upon your mind, that led you to watch my
motions, and to conceive alarm from every particle of my conduct.
"You began in confidence; why did you not continue in confidence? The
evil that resulted from my original imprudence would then have been
comparatively little. You threatened me: did I then betray you? A word
from my lips at that time would have freed me from your threats for
ever. I bore them for a considerable period, and at last quitted your
service, and threw myself a fugitive upon the world, in silence. Why did
you not suffer me to depart? You brought me back by stratagem and
violence, and wantonly accused me of an enormous felony! Did I then
mention a syllable of the murder, the secret of which was in my
possession?
"Where is the man that has suffered more from the injustice of society
than I have done? I was accused of a villainy that my heart abhorred. I
was sent to jail. I will not enumerate the horrors of my prison, the
lightest of which would make the heart of humanity shudder. I looked
forward to the gallows! Young, ambitious, fond of life, innocent as the
child unborn, I looked forward to the gallows! I believed that one word
of resolute accusation against my patron would deliver me; yet I was
silent, I armed myself with patience, uncertain whether it were better
to accuse or to die. Did this show me a man unworthy to be trusted?
"I determined to break out of prison. With infinite difficulty, and
repeated miscarriages, I at length effected my purpose. Instantly a
proclamation, with a hundred guineas reward, was issued for apprehending
me. I was obliged to take shelter among the refuse of mankind, in the
midst of a gang of thieves. I encountered the most imminent peril of my
life when I entered this retreat, and when I quitted it. Immediately
after, I travelled almost the whole length of the kingdom, in poverty
and distress, in hourly danger of being retaken and manacled like a
felon. I would have fled my country; I was prevented. I had recourse to
various disguises; I was innocent, and yet was compelled to as many arts
and subterfuges as could have been entailed on the worst of villains. In
London I was as much harassed and as repeatedly alarmed as I had been in
my flight through the country. Did all these persecutions persuade me to
put an end to my silence? No: I suffered them with patience and
submission; I did not make one attempt to retort them upon their author.
"I fell at last into the hands of the miscreants that are nourished with
human blood. In this terrible situation I, for the first time,
attempted, by turning informer, to throw the weight from myself. Happily
for me, the London magistrate listened to my tale with insolent
contempt.
"I soon, and long, repented of my rashness, and rejoiced in my
miscarriage.
"I acknowledge that, in various ways, Mr. Falkland showed humanity
towards me during this period. He would have prevented my going to
prison at first; he contributed towards my subsistence during my
detention; he had no share in the pursuit that had been set on foot
against me; he at length procured my discharge, when brought forward for
trial. But a great part of his forbearance was unknown to me; I supposed
him to be my unrelenting pursuer. I could not forget that, whoever
heaped calamities on me in the sequel, they all originated in his forged
accusation.
"The prosecution against me for felony was now at an end. Why were not
my sufferings permitted to terminate then, and I allowed to hide my
weary head in some obscure yet tranquil retreat? Had I not sufficiently
proved my constancy and fidelity? Would not a compromise in this
situation have been most wise and most secure? But the restless and
jealous anxiety of Mr. Falkland would not permit him to repose the least
atom of confidence. The only compromise that he proposed was that, with
my own hand, I should sign myself a villain. I refused this proposal,
and have ever since been driven from place to place, deprived of peace,
of honest fame, even of bread. For a long time I persisted in the
resolution that no emergency should convert me into the assailant. In an
evil hour I at last listened to my resentment and impatience, and the
hateful mistake into which I fell has produced the present scene.
"I now see that mistake in all its enormity. I am sure that if I had
opened my heart to Mr. Falkland, if I had told to him privately the tale
that I have now been telling, he could not have resisted my reasonable
demand. After all his precautions, he must ultimately have depended upon
my forbearance. Could he be sure that, if I were at last worked up to
disclose every thing I knew, and to enforce it with all the energy I
could exert, I should obtain no credit? If he must in every case be at
my mercy, in which mode ought he to have sought his safety, in
conciliation, or in inexorable cruelty?
"Mr. Falkland is of a noble nature. Yes; in spite of the catastrophe of
Tyrrel, of the miserable end of the Hawkinses, and of all that I have
myself suffered, I affirm that he has qualities of the most admirable
kind. It is therefore impossible that he could have resisted a frank and
fervent expostulation, the frankness and the fervour in which the whole
soul is poured out. I despaired, while it was yet time to have made the
just experiment; but my despair was criminal, was treason against the
sovereignty of truth.
"I have told a plain and unadulterated tale. I came hither to curse, but
I remain to bless. I came to accuse, but am compelled to applaud. I
proclaim to all the world, that Mr. Falkland is a man worthy of
affection and kindness, and that I am myself the basest and most odious
of mankind! Never will I forgive myself the iniquity of this day. The
memory will always haunt me, and embitter every hour of my existence.
In thus acting I have been a murderer--a cool, deliberate, unfeeling
murderer.--I have said what my accursed precipitation has obliged me to
say. Do with me as you please! I ask no favour. Death would be a
kindness, compared to what I feel!"
Such were the accents dictated by my remorse. I poured them out with
uncontrollable impetuosity; for my heart was pierced, and I was
compelled to give vent to its anguish. Every one that heard me, was
petrified with astonishment. Every one that heard me, was melted into
tears. They could not resist the ardour with which I praised the great
qualities of Falkland; they manifested their sympathy in the tokens of
my penitence.
How shall I describe the feelings of this unfortunate man? Before I
began, he seemed sunk and debilitated, incapable of any strenuous
impression. When I mentioned the murder, I could perceive in him an
involuntary shuddering, though it was counteracted partly by the
feebleness of his frame, and partly by the energy of his mind. This was
an allegation he expected, and he had endeavoured to prepare himself for
it. But there was much of what I said, of which he had had no previous
conception. When I expressed the anguish of my mind, he seemed at first
startled and alarmed, lest this should be a new expedient to gain credit
to my tale. His indignation against me was great for having retained all
my resentment towards him, thus, as it might be, to the last hour of his
existence. It was increased when he discovered me, as he supposed, using
a pretence of liberality and sentiment to give new edge to my hostility.
But as I went on he could no longer resist. He saw my sincerity; he was
penetrated with my grief and compunction. He rose from his seat,
supported by the attendants, and--to my infinite astonishment--threw
himself into my arms!
"Williams," said he, "you have conquered! I see too late the greatness
and elevation of your mind. I confess that it is to my fault and not
yours, that it is to the excess of jealousy that was ever burning in my
bosom, that I owe my ruin. I could have resisted any plan of malicious
accusation you might have brought against me. But I see that the artless
and manly story you have told, has carried conviction to every hearer.
All my prospects are concluded. All that I most ardently desired, is for
ever frustrated. I have spent a life of the basest cruelty, to cover one
act of momentary vice, and to protect myself against the prejudices of
my species. I stand now completely detected. My name will be consecrated
to infamy, while your heroism, your patience, and your virtues will be
for ever admired. You have inflicted on me the most fatal of all
mischiefs; but I bless the hand that wounds me. And now,"--turning to
the magistrate--"and now, do with me as you please. I am prepared to
suffer all the vengeance of the law. You cannot inflict on me more than
I deserve. You cannot hate me, more than I hate myself. I am the most
execrable of all villains. I have for many years (I know not how long)
dragged on a miserable existence in insupportable pain. I am at last, in
recompense for all my labours and my crimes, dismissed from it with the
disappointment of my only remaining hope, the destruction of that for
the sake of which alone I consented to exist. It was worthy of such a
life, that it should continue just long enough to witness this final
overthrow. If however you wish to punish me, you must be speedy in your
justice; for, as reputation was the blood that warmed my heart, so I
feel that death and infamy must seize me together."
I record the praises bestowed on me by Falkland, not because I deserved
them, but because they serve to aggravate the baseness of my cruelty. He
survived this dreadful scene but three days. I have been his murderer.
It was fit that he should praise my patience, who has fallen a victim,
life and fame, to my precipitation! It would have been merciful in
comparison, if I had planted a dagger in his heart. He would have
thanked me for my kindness. But, atrocious, execrable wretch that I have
been! I wantonly inflicted on him an anguish a thousand times worse than
death. Meanwhile I endure the penalty of my crime. His figure is ever in
imagination before me. Waking or sleeping, I still behold him. He seems
mildly to expostulate with me for my unfeeling behaviour. I live the
devoted victim of conscious reproach. Alas! I am the same Caleb Williams
that, so short a time ago, boasted that, however great were the
calamities I endured, I was still innocent.
Such has been the result of a project I formed, for delivering myself
from the evil that had so long attended me. I thought that, if Falkland
were dead, I should return once again to all that makes life worth
possessing. I thought that, if the guilt of Falkland were established,
fortune and the world would smile upon my efforts. Both these events are
accomplished; and it is now only that I am truly miserable.
Why should my reflections perpetually centre upon myself?--self, an
overweening regard to which has been the source of my errors! Falkland,
I will think only of thee, and from that thought will draw ever-fresh
nourishment for my sorrows! One generous, one disinterested tear I will
consecrate to thy ashes! A nobler spirit lived not among the sons of
men. Thy intellectual powers were truly sublime, and thy bosom burned
with a god-like ambition. But of what use are talents and sentiments in
the corrupt wilderness of human society? It is a rank and rotten soil,
from which every finer shrub draws poison as it grows. All that, in a
happier field and a purer air, would expand into virtue and germinate
into usefulness, is thus concerted into henbane and deadly nightshade.
Falkland! thou enteredst upon thy career with the purest and most
laudable intentions. But thou imbibedst the poison of chivalry with thy
earliest youth; and the base and low-minded envy that met thee on thy
return to thy native seats, operated with this poison to hurry thee into
madness. Soon, too soon, by this fatal coincidence, were the blooming
hopes of thy youth blasted for ever. From that moment thou only
continuedst to live to the phantom of departed honour. From that moment
thy benevolence was, in a great part, turned into rankling jealousy and
inexorable precaution. Year after year didst thou spend in this
miserable project of imposture; and only at last continuedst to live,
long enough to see, by my misjudging and abhorred intervention, thy
closing hope disappointed, and thy death accompanied with the foulest
disgrace!
I began these memoirs with the idea of vindicating my character. I have
now no character that I wish to vindicate: but I will finish them that
thy story may be fully understood; and that, if those errors of thy life
be known which thou so ardently desiredst to conceal, the world may at
least not hear and repeat a half-told and mangled tale.
THE END.