Literary cadet and Rhode-Island statesman. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1827-1829, 1827-10-13
MISCELLANY,

we copy from the LiVcrpooi AlDion,
the annexed pathetic and dreadful story,
entitled 4" The CONFESSIONS OF AN UN-
EXECUTED FEMEclDE" According to
the Albion the talSis declared to be no
fiction, and is published according to
The will o! William M, Esq. of
-, in the county Of Stirling, Scot
land" for tho purpose Of deterring 9TH
ers from the commission Of similar
sin, 10y tho thought, that ifthey escape
the punishment Of the law, they are sure
to meet with that Of racked and har-
rassed conscience The Confessions
are powerfully written, and seldom have
we read more touching narrative than
that which is contained in the work be-
fore us. We insert an extract from the
first part of the CONFESSION"
Should the remaining Confessions be
found to contain the same melancholy
interest tina: this does, we may perhaps
publish them. Although they arc pro-
fcsscdly true, we have some doubts as
to their authenticity, and at any rate
could hope that they were false.
"Twenty years-and the vision still
haunts mo! Yes, it is twenty years since
| pcrpetrated that crime which has pois-
oned my existence, and thrown over it a
cloud of unutterable sorrow. All other
crimes may sleep, but iniquity like mine
never can. The worm that dies not,
preys upon my heart: am the victim of
remorse.
"My house stood in the midst of
plantation Of elm and pine It's situation
was considered romantic by those who
had an eye for the beauties Of nature,
but such never had. 1t was a large
isolated building, white, and airy in its
appearance, and decorated in front with
a portico Of four Ionic pillars. Before
the door was a plat of green ground,
bordered with flowers, and in the centre
Of this fountain Of clear water. Behind
the mansion house there was spacious
garden, and about fifty yards to the right
flowed the little river Of -, muir
muring among rocks, and shaded over
by bowers ofthe birch and chesnut tree.
"Few places were so retired and beau
tiiul, and here, if my miserable tone Of
mind had permitted, mus; have been
happy. had no companion but all only
sister, and heaven assuredly never FORM
ed two beings so completely different as
we. Poor Eliza, she was every thing
that is amiable in woman. Fair, beau
tifuliy proportoned, and graceful in her
movements, beyond even the most gifted
Of her sex-hef light and airy form-her
blue, deep blue eye-her lip ever crossed
with smiles, and her complexion clear as
heaven itself. Ofsll these things could
speak, but it avais not. They are gone,
and nothing save their remembrance re-
mains behind. Memory may do much
to hallow even the divinest beauty, and
Imagination may touch with more deli
cate hues what the former brings up from
the depths time, but their fairy power
were useless here. My sister had form
and mind which fancy never excelled,
even IN her brightest dreams.
"Strange to say, she loved me. / say
strange, for what heart but that of an
angel could bear affection towards be-
ing so malignant-so horribly wicked As
L. can now recall how harshly l re-
turned all her little acts of kindness.-
She would try, by every art, TO bring
from me some deed Of tenderness. She
would smile, and come out with some
mirthiul story. She would sit down be-
fore me, and throw her delicate arms
around my neck in mood Of gaety end
love. She would fatter me, and watch
over my concerns, and anticipate my
wishes--but all in vain. My ungrateful
heart refused to acknowledge her atten-
tions; her fondncss became painful to
me, and l repulsod her. Not when l
was stretched on bed Of sickness did
her tenderness abate. When the burn
ing fever rioted in my veins, and but a
step lay between me and eternity, she
attended me with more than a mothers
care. Night after night she sat watching
over my couch. I have seen her, when
she little thought so remarked, weeping
in my dimly illumined chamber, and
raising her fair hands to heaven, in sup