The Rhode-Island Republican. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1809-1841, 1832-08-07
From the philadelphia, Saturday Courier.
DESTINY.
[Concluded.1

When recovered my senses, found
myself on board the vessel was to sail
in. The sun had already risen; all was
ready for departure indeed the COM
mander had delayed the last hour on my
account, doubtful whether To set me on
shore or to sail with me in my then sit
uation.
"Mr. Walsingham will be so good as
to say" said the captain addressing me,
"whether or not we shall have the pleas
ure of his company in the voyage. !
dare not wait any longer"
took five minutes for reflection. 1t
would be useless to speak of the reasons
that influenced my determination. In
five minutes the ship was under weigh,
and soon lost sight Of the city, wan
derer bound for strange and distant
land.
must again pass over period of ten
years they were years mostly ofprosper-
ity and happiness. ] had married in the
time. My uniou with tile woman to
whom was passionately attached was
blessed with child, boy, who had be-
gan to prattle distinctly at this period.
My affection for the mother and child a.
mounted to adoration. My heart swelled
with gratitude to the giver Of these ines
timable blessings and the perfect, unal-
loyed happiness / enjoyed constituted
these dear objects of my love the most
highly valued of my earthly treasures,
Every good which man in the wilderness
of his untamed desires could ask for
was mine-the cup was full to overflow
ing. Who can believe that thus blest,
could in single day destroy it all could
madly, Of mine own will, destroy this
paradise ofjoy-this foretaste ofheaven
and voluntarily light the fires ofthat hell
which no,c burns, forever must burn with
in me. Ha! ha! ha! the demon who pos
sessed me whispers in my ear some mit-
igation Of anguish of him who has perpe-
trated the most damning ofcrimes. Yes;
there is blood upon my hands--the blood
of all who loved me-the blood of all
who hated me. Ha! ha! ha! I've had my
revenge. My destiny las been fulfilled.
! dm-------a a murderer! How
came so! Whose instrument am II
For what purpose was ! dragged into
madness! Why was destined 10 the COM
mission Of crimes, in the comparison of
which the first murderer will stand be-
fore the Eternal as pure and unsullied!-
it was my destiny. could not escape it.
Mother, wife, child, forgive me, it was
my destiny. And ye, agents of He'll,
who made me your cruel instrument,
double your curses and bowl out your
agony from your place Of torment--I
will listen to them nll. Ifyou made me
the shredder of innocent blood, was
also its avenger. In the moment ofyour
success you met the doom you merited.
The consummation of your hellish de-
sigrs was sealed with your life's blood.
The punishment fell upon you in your
first moment of rejoicing. This shall
mitigate my anguish, and serve me
through the eternal remembrance Of my
CRIME with a subject for exultation. ]
would not escape my doom if could; /
will meet we in that Hell to which have
sent ye; and my curses, my presence,
my wrongs shall prove your greatest tor
ment while eternity lasts. Ha! ha! ha!
we will soon meet, never, no, neuer ia
part again.
again sat alone in the chamber oi
death.-The bodies Of my wife and child
were laid out before me. II was strange
coincldence--but just twenty years be.
fore ] had watched tue corpse Of my
mother, in silence, in darkness, and o.
lone. ! Ind been the guiltiess instru
ment Of my mothers death-was l e.
qually guiltless Of the death of those
much loved ones whose cold and stiffen
ed remains now watched over?-no-l
felt, knew was not, and resolved tha
one grave should receive the bodies o
myself, my wife, and my child. Nj
pistols were loaded had calmly de-
termincd at the hour Of twelve to play
the Roman, to make the only expiuto
ry sacrifice in my power. At twclv,
\ o'clock, suicide would be added to th,
catalogue Of crimes already Of too darl
a dye to be atoncd for by long life o
peniteuce. The clock struck the hour
" Now, Arthur Walsi ngham," | said
aloud, :. the time has come--thou hast
bsde the world good night--finch not
but make thy exit"
Bravely resolved, sweet Arthur,
finch not yet stay thy hand moment
owe thee some explanations which
thou mighiest as well wait to hear"
Was this an illusion of the senses or
did the murderess Of my mother stand
before mo. There was the same dark,
yengeful, withering scowI, which had
lost none Of its vindictivc expression
from lapse Of ten years. The fury
bent her piercing eyes upon me, as il
to leave no doubt Of her indentity, and
filed my eurs with the same horrible