The Litchfield County post. [volume] (Litchfield, Conn.) 1826-1829, 1827-10-18
From the liverpool Albion, Aug. 90.
CONFESSION OF AN UNEXECUTED
FEM1CIDE.

CONFESSlON VI AIN UNEAECU1ED
FEM1CIDE.
A deeply affecting narrative, under the a.
bove title, has just issued from the Glasgow
press. 1t is declared to be "no felton," 1t
is published according to the will of evil
liam MET, ESQ. Of, in the county of
Stirling, Scotland" for the purpose of deter
ring others - from the commission of SINH
lar sin, by the thought that ifthey escape the
punishment of the law, they are sure to meet
with that ofa racked and harrassed conscience
The Con tessions are powerfully written and
seldom have we read more touching nara
tive than that, which is contained in the work
before us. We insert. an extract from the
first part of her confessions.
"Twenty years-and the vision still haunts
me Yes, it is twenty years since | perpe-
trated that crime which has poisoned my ex-
istence, and thrown over it cloud of unut-
terable sorrow. All other crimes may sleep,
but iniquity like mine never can. The
worm that dies not preys on my heart /: am
the victim of, emorse.* ~ ******"***
My house stood in the midst of pIanta-
ton of elm and pine. Its situation was con-
sidered romantic by those who had an eye
for the beauties of nature, but such l never
had. 1t was large isolated building, white
and airy in its appearance, land decorated with
portico of four Ionic pillars. Before the door
was plot 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 o.
murmuring among rocks, and shaded over
by bowers of the birch and chesnut-tree.
Few places were so retired and beautiful,
and here, if my miserable tone Of mind had
permitted, must have been happy. l had
no companion but an only sister, and Heaven
assuredly never formed two beings SO COM
pletely different as we. Poor Eliza, she was
every thing that is amiable in woman. Fair,
beautifully prOportiOned, and graceful in her
manners, beyond even the most gifted OF her
sex-her light and airy form-her blue, deep
blue eye-her lip ever crossed with smiles.
and her complexion clear as heaven itself.
Of all these things could speak, but it avas
not They are gone, and nothing save their
remembrance remains behind. Memory may
do much to halow even the divinest beauty,
and imagination may touch with more deli
cate hues what the former brings up from the
depths of time, but their fairy power were
useless here. My sister had form and a
mind which fancy never excelled in her bright
est dreams.
Strange to say she loved me. I say strange,
for what heart but that of an angel could bear
affection towards being SO malignant
and so horribly wicked as / ! can
now recall how harshly returned all her lit
tie acts of kindness. She would try. by eve
ry art, to bring from me some deed offender
ness. She would smile. and come out with
some mirthful story. She would sit down be.
fore me, and throw her delicate arms around
my neck in mood of gaiety and love.-She
would fiatter me, and watch over my con-
Germs, and anticipate my wishes, but. all in
vain. My ungrateful heart refused to acknowl-
edge her attentions: her fondness became
painful to me, and repulsed her. Nor when
was stretched on bed of sickness did hel
tenderness abate.-When the burning fever
rioted in my veins, and but step lay between
me and eternity, she attended me with more
than mothers care. Night after night she
sat watching over my couch. ! have seen her
when she little thought so remarked, weep.
iBg over my dimly iIlumined chsmber. and