For this offence he was brought to trial at the Old Bailey, on the 22d April 1746, when he pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to be hanged on the following Monday, the 25th of the same month. On the night before his execution he made a confession of his crime, from which the following particulars are taken:--Having called the Almighty to witness the truth of his assertion, he proceeded to enter into a history of his early life, alleging that he had always been well treated by his master and mistress, for whom he entertained the most sincere respect. On the evening of the 25th March 1746, all the other servants having quitted the house, he proceeded to bed in the apartment which was appropriated to his use. He had pulled off his shoes, and had tied up his hair with his garter, when suddenly the thought came into his head that he would kill his mistress. He directly went into the kitchen in search of an instrument to effect his object, and he took a small iron cleaver; but, returning to his chamber, he sat during a period of twenty minutes, considering whether he should commit the murder or not. His heart relented when he remembered that his mistress had been so kind to him; but then he thought that there was no one in the house who could hear him, and he determined upon perpetrating the deed. Impelled by a feeling which he could not control, he rushed up stairs as far as the first landing-place, but there he tarried, and in his alarm returned to his bed-room. Again he felt determined upon the course which he had originally proposed, and again he had ascended the stairs on his way to his mistress's room, but once more he felt irresolute. To use his own expression, he had now determined not to commit the murder, but "the devil was so busy within him," that, in an agony of emotion, he was unable to prevail against an inward feeling, which drove him again towards his lady's room. Once he retired,--but once again he advanced,--and he had now reached the door, by which only he was separated from the object upon which he was about to commit the foul crime, of which in the sequel he was guilty. Had that door been locked all would have been well,--but no, the latch turned easily in his hand, and he stood within a yard of his victim. Still he could not kill her, and in trepidation and alarm he crept back as far as the stair-head. Again he felt the devil at work, and once more he was driven onwards to his fate. He entered the room a second time, and could distinctly hear the respirations of the unfortunate lady; he opened the curtains softly, and fancied he could see the outline of her figure. Had he had a light, he was convinced he could never have killed her. At length, however, urged by an irresistible impulse, he raised the cleaver, and yet, hesitating, he made as many as thirteen or fourteen motions in the air before he could determine to strike her,--but then he let the murderous instrument fall with redoubled force upon her head. The unhappy lady