But alas! the bearer
of the blessed message spoke as if the worm that bore, could add grace
to the tidings he conveyed to his fellow-worm. I was got upon a
precipice, but knew it not--that of self-worship and conceit--the
worst creature-idolatry. It was bitterly revealed to me at last.
About the year 1790, at the Assizes for the county of which the town
of C----r is the county town, was tried and convicted a wretch guilty
of one of the most horrible murders upon record. He was a young man,
probably (for he knew not his own years) of about twenty-two years of
age--one of those wandering and unsettled creatures, who seem to be
driven from place to place, they know not why. Without home, without
name, without companion, without sympathy, without sense,--heartless,
friendless, idealess, almost soulless! and so ignorant, as not even to
seem to know whether he had ever heard of a Redeemer, or seen His
written Word. It was on a stormy Christmas eve when he begged shelter
in the hut of an old man, whose office it was to regulate the transit
of conveyances upon the road of a great mining establishment in the
neighbourhood. The old man had received him, and shared with him his
humble cheer and his humble bed; for on that night the wind blew, and
the sleet drove, after a manner that would have made it a crime to
have turned a stranger dog to the door. The next day the poor old
creature was found dead in his hut--his brains beaten out with an old
iron implement which he used, and his little furniture rifled and in
confusion. The wretch had murdered him for the supposed hoard of a few
shillings. The snow, from which he afforded his murderer shelter, had
drifted in at the door, which the miscreant, when he fled, had left
open, and was frozen red with the blood of his victim. But it betrayed
a footstep hard frozen in the snow and blood; and the nails of the
murderer's shoe were counted, even as his days were soon to be. He was
taken a few days after with a handkerchief of the old man's upon his
neck. So blind is blood-guiltiness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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