NUMBER V. For the said YEAR.
THE ORDINARY of NEWGATE, His ACCOUNT of the Behaviour, Confession, &c.
To the EDITOR of the DYING SPEECHES.
THERE are three duties to which all mankind seem expresly obliged. The first is that which we owe to the Immortal Being, who gave us existence, and honoured us with reasoning faculties. - The next is the reverence and esteem we are obligated to pay to our superiors, who are so constituted, in order to the well-being of the community; since without government, which presumes superiority, it is difficult to conceive how peace and happiness could subsist amongst us. - The last is the duty which we owe to each other, as fellow creatures, which is usually stiled humanity. - This partly springs spontaneous from the soul, and is partly founded on education. Men therefore rarely want this social virtue, until all that is good is eradicated from the heart by evil communications; which gradually corrupt, and in process of time, like the maggot in the nut kernel, destroy its vital bloom.
The first step to the want of humanity, is in forgetting the obligations we are under to our Creator. The next is in being wanting of respect to our superiors, and the last of setting too little value on that part of our selves, which chiefly contributes to make us amiable.
The great and the little equally share in the undervaluing the noblest part of their existence, but attended with very
different consequences. When the great are so unhappy as to forget themselves, the biass of education, and bright examples constantly before them, contribute, if not to set them quite right, yet at least to preserve them from absolute deviation. While the lower sort of people, especially about this town, wanting the same advantages of both education and example; if they once vary from the road of virtue, they are, generally speaking, lost past redemption. But if the case should be, which chiefly engages this letter, that there is a third rank, which, if I may so speak with propriety, are less than the little, that had never any opportunity of knowing the goods things of either heaven or earth; lost from the moment of their birth, and immersed from their cradles in ignorance, stupidity, and misery: I say, if such people there be, and those in multitudes, within the verge of this capacious hive, what sort of creatures are the best of us all, who preach and pray, or cant and talk nonsense, with eminent divine faces, that send missionaries abroad, to convert the Indians, or buy bibles, to make the Welsh and Highlanders Christians, while savages live in crouds under our noses, whom we treat on Popish principles, and convert by hanging, or transporting? Would not a stranger who had heard of our society for propagating the Gospel some thousand miles off, if living here a little time, and seeing the miserable wretches which every day present, conclude all religion a farce, and government a mere jest? If he saw at the same time 20,000 people idle, while a few hundreds travel from the most remote parts to make our hay, or reap our corn; would he not conclude us all infatuated? or could he wonder, if he saw these prey like wild beasts on all they meet, when he sees so vast a disparity between street and street, person and person, one glorious rich and shining, the other miserable, beyond even a sense of misery? Would he not naturally ask why are not the ways of these people more attended to? Does it require so much skill to make the poor industrious here, more than in other places, that human understanding is not capable of reaching the means? And are these your fellow creatures just under your eye of less regard to you, than those who live some thousand miles distant? These and such like would be the natural and obvious reflections of a simple stranger.
It is a general principle here, that charity begins at home. And it may without vanity be said, that the English are not the last amongst the nations, for either generosity or humanity. How happens it then, that these principles are evidently falsified, and that charity, generosity, and humanity seem to be quite banished from amongst us; surely it must arise from the want of understanding the disease, through a defect of the state of things being set in a picturesque light, and placed in the view of all; or such a complaint, such a shocking grievance could not possibly exist.
In the last hard frost I observed all ranks of people extremely generous and humane. They themselves felt the severity of the season. Nature then pictured the hardship, and presented it before them, they evidently perceived it, and acted with a becoming humanity, some
say to an excess. They then thought it their duty to preserve their fellow creatures from starving. But is it less now their concern to keep them from being hanged, or have we more purse than brains?
I take it that the welfare of a state depends on the industry of the people. I likewise conceive that every government has power to make the idle labour; nay I am convinced we have laws sufficient in force for that special purpose, and apprehend that were such laws only so far regulated, as is consistent with our liberties, and the power of them vested in a number of people of the best reputation in each parish, with ample authority to inquire into the lives and manners of the inhabitants, subject to proper appeals in a summary way, before a set of Judges by the Sovereign, specially appointed; on the one side, our liberties would be well preserved by such a check, on the other, roguery and idleness nipt in the bud.
We are very cautious of putting too much power into private hands, which in general is very right; but it is likewise agreed of two evils to choose the least. And can any power, though never so arbitrary, which is not the case intended here, be equal to the evil we now labour under? What signifies my having liberty to affront my superiors, when I have no power to guard myself against thieves and robbers, am neither safe in my person, nor can call my goods my own? This is reasoning for licentiousness, whereon the very evil we complain of is founded, and yet at the same time seem to wonder we can't find a remedy.
Thus it will be, so long as unthinking men laugh at all that is serious, and had rather attend to the burlesque foolery of a farce or a puppet shew, than give themselves the least trouble to think by what means either themselves may be safe, or their fellow creatures happy. But as the necessity of things will at last convince them, that the care of others is the foundation of their own welfare; so in the event they will be obliged to know, that what to day hardly seems their interest to regard, will to morrow be found their peculiar business. The famous city of Jerusalem was ruined by idleness and inattention - The rulers sought a remedy when too late. Thieves at last became the governors, and every honest man had his throat cut. I am,
SIR, Your very humble servant,
Brook-Street, Hanover Square, July 19, 1745.
N. B. I am obliged to the above Author, and hope further encouragement by the same canal. - Direct to M. COOPER, at the Globe in Paternoster Row. All the ingenious and humane are desired so to direct.
The Ordinary of Newgate, his Account, &c.
BY virtue of a commission of Oyer, Terminer, and Goal-delivery of Newgate, held at Justice-hall in the Old Bailey, before Henry Marshal Esq; Lord Mayor of the city of London, the Right Honourable the Lord Chief Baron Parker, Mr. Justice Burnet, Mr. Justice Denton, Sir Simon Urling, Knt. Recorder , and other of his Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer for the city of London, and Justices of Gaol delivery of Newgate, holden for the said city, and county of Middlesex, on Wednesday the 10th and Thursday the 11th of July, being the sixth sessions of the present Mayoralty - The following Prisoners were tried and convicted, viz. John Riggleton of Stanmore Magna, in the county of Middlesex, for the Murder of his wife. William Kelly, Thomas St. Legar and Patrick Cave of St. Martin's in the Fields, for a robbery on Thomas Piggot, Esq;
While under sentence of death, I attended them as usual, and ministered unto them with such pious discourses and exhortations, as seemed to me to best suit their present circumstances. On the morning of their execution, I preached unto them from the following text. It is taken out of the Gospel according to St. Mark, chap. ii. verse 17. - I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance. From this I attempted to convince them, that the great end of the Saviour of mankind's appearing amongst us, was to reclaim the wicked, and from thence drew this favorable inference, That if they would lay aside their hardness of heart, and become new men, sincerely repenting of their crimes, look up to heaven for mercy, and set thereby a good example to others, they might yet become the children of grace, and enjoy with the Saints in heaven a happy eternity. I remarked to them the plain difference between minds absorped in vice and infamy, and those who had virtue and purity for their guide: I referred it to themselves whether, during their wicked courses, they had ever rest or peace of mind, whether they were not always disturbed, terrified, and uneasy, sleeping or waking; and whether they did not in the whole find theirs the most miserable state human nature is capable of conceiving. If then, said I, life be so miserable thus pursued, who that have their senses remaining would not heartily desire a change, such a one as might bring them peace, tranquillity, and rest here, and eternal happiness hereafter?
I observed to them that if there was no such thing as a future state, yet there was a moral necessity of their living well, because upon it depended their present good; without that they could have no credit with their fellow creatures, and without credit arising from a regard and good will to one another, society could not subsist; this evidently appeared from the nature and reason of things, since we are able to do very little of ourselves, without the assistance of one another, in the pursuits of an ho
nest industry: By this it is that we daily see men come as it were from nothing, and by justly acquiring wealth, shining amongst their fellow citizens in gilt coaches and nobly attended, while the idle and impatient are daily seen begging their bread, or what is worse, hazarding their lives every moment, by attempting to force from others what might more easily have been acquired by a moderate industry - besides the perpetual cares, fears, and perplexities attending wicked pursuits; troubles unknown to patient, honest men. Therefore, said I, if you are so hardened, as not to hearken to the good tidings of a future state, you cannot be strangers to what is so apparent to your senses, and consequently on considering a moment, must necessarily prefer what is evidently, and in every respect for your good, to what is plainly calculated for your unavoidable destruction; so that take it which way you will, whether your ways regard here or hereafter, it is still your interest as well as your duty to be honest. But as your affairs are now by means of your evil actions brought to this dreadful dilemma, and it is much too late to think of laying new plans of future behaviour, other than in a sincere repentance, let that now be your only study, that in leaving a world wherein you have always lived miserably, you may by the means of grace be entitled to a share in the glories of the heavenly Jerusalem, which God of his infinite mercy grant you may be able to attain. Amen.
This discourse had its due effect, at least on some of them; and I hope as it led them into a sincere repentance, so it has greatly contributed to their eternal happiness.
William Kelly, Thomas St. Legar, and Patrick Cave, of the parish of St. Martin's in the Fields, were indicted for violently assaulting and putting in fear of his life Robert Piggot, Esq; and taking from him his watch and forty guineas, the property of the said Robert Piggot, Esq;
It may not be improper in this place to give some account first of Patrick Cave, notwithstanding his being reprieved for transportation, as the others seem to lay the whole blame on him, was their constant comrade in England, and his transactions during his acquaintance with them, very much interwoven with theirs.
Patrick Cave, about 36 years of age, a native of the kingdom of Ireland, born, as he says, of very honest parents, who brought him up too much a gentleman to work, but having nothing to give him, wherewith to maintain his dignity, he when at years of maturity very modestly condescended to enter himself amongst the Gentlemen of the Livery , and served, as he pretends, various noblemen and gentlemen; but the master he says he served longest was a Lieutenant Colonel in General Armstrong's regiment, whom he calls Le Schelle, and says he was servant to him 12 or 14 years, and usually marched with the regiment; since which service he has been otherwise employed, as will appear in the
sequel. - He set himself up for a thief of consequence, and as it is the fashion with such, he kept what the thieves call a Fence, or Lock; i. e. a place for the reception and disposition of stolen goods. For this purpose it was necessary he should have a woman, which he calls his wife, to take care of it: This woman, who called herself Sarah Cave, was indicted for receiving the goods which her husband, Legar, and Kelly robbed Mr. Piggot of, and convicted as an accessary, consequently is to be transported with her husband: Cave's being reprieved was not owing to his being thought less a rogue than the rest, but because he was the means of taking up the two others. Here we shall leave him for the present, that we may tell the story of his adventures but once over.
Thomas St. Legar, 26 years of age, a native of the kingdom of Ireland, born, as he pretends, of very worthy parents, which we have only this single inducement to credit, he having been educated a good deal superior to what the ordinary people of that Kingdom usually are, being pretty skilful in merchants accompts, &c. His parents he says died when he was young, and some relations who were Papists educated him above being of a trade, so that like Mr. Cave, being a gentleman without wealth, he naturally enough became a footman , that being the usual resource of such gentlemen. However, he says he for some time served several merchants as a book-keeper , but not behaving well, was obliged to leave his places, and for some time employed himself in the fishery on the coast of Ireland in boats of his own, but wanting sufficient industry to conduct such undertakings, he next turned footman, and then thief. He was under terrible apprehensions at the approach of death, and seemed to leave this world in great trouble and disorder of mind.
William Kelly, about 35 years of age, was likewise a native of the kingdom of Ireland, and consequently a gentleman: He came from Ireland some years since, and was received into the service of Dr. Carrol, a physician in Burlington Street, where he says he behaved very honestly, but after leaving that service he returned to Ireland, where he became acquainted with St. Legar, and they two agreed to make the tour of England, where they both became acquainted with Cave, and by his means, as they both pretend, with a variety of thieves and leud women. Kelly was for some time sick in the cells, but recovered, generally behaved very decently, and died in the communion of the Church of Rome.
As the adventures of these three were almost all of a piece after their becoming acquainted together in London, it would have been repeating the same thing three times over, to have related them under the heads of their respective lives.
The first adventure they went upon after becoming acquainted together, was in joining their stocks for the purchase of an old landau, and a pair of indifferent horses, which St. Legar, as appearing most like a gentleman, was to be the supposed master of, Cave to be the coachman, and Kelly St. Legar's companion or footman, as best suited
the design in hand. In dark nights they by means of a sham figure turned it into a hackney coach, in which St. Legar and Kelly usually sat until a coach was called; then they got out and kept at a proper distance to observe who took it, and where directed: In this scheme although they committed several robberies, yet as none happened to be of sufficient consequence to answer the great end of their expences, their highest purchase having been five guineas and a silver watch, which they got from a gentleman very much in liquor, and the thing making a noise, and beginning to be enquired into, they dropped this scheme, took off their figure, and Kelly being constituted coachman, they drove away one evening to May Fair in pursuit of adventures; St. Legar and Cave being pretty well dressed, left the coach to the care of Kelly, while they beat about the fair to see what they could meet with; in their rambles they observed two neat genteel girls alone walking arm in arm about the fair, St. Legar made his addresses to the one, Cave to the other; they did not seem very shy, but liking the looks of the men, their dress and pleasant behaviour, they were well enough satisfied with their company, and were with no great difficulty engaged to go into one of the booths to see a shew; Cave and St. Legar were both well enough acquainted with that kind of nothingness in conversation wherewith unexperienced young girls are so readily captivated, which with their talking of their coach, of their horses catching cold, &c. gave the poor girls no little ideas of the importance of their companions, who being fortune hunters, conceived with good management they might now get rich husbands: The two thieves had in their first views only the picking up some cash, but now had talked themselves into other thoughts of the matter, for the girls having a design upon them likewise, gave some distant hints that they were great fortunes, or should be such; which so fired the imaginations of our adventurers, that they lost sight of their main business, and wholly addressed themselves to love. In fine, both sides being on the catch, the affair was soon brought to an issue, the ladies were conducted to the coach, and from thence to the Fleet to be married: The adventurers pretended it was improper to go to either of their homes, and the girls finding themselves married, were willing to do as their husbands desired. The coachman was ordered to drive away to Goodman's Fields Bagnio, where after a short repast they went to bed in two several rooms; in the morning they began to enquire who each other were, and Kelly with some other of their companions coming to wish them much joy, the whole secret came out; the girls wept bitterly, but in vain; they were told they were well off that they did not take their money and clothes from them, since under pretence of being girls of fortune they were only milliners prentices, and consequently had put the cheat upon them; however, as they had done them the favour of a night's lodging, they would not use a husband's power; and as they found they had money enough in their pockets, so it was proper they should pay the reckoning, and then after giving them a very
grave caution to beware of attempting to impose upon men for the future, they very civilly left them to their own reflections, without meddling with any thing they had.
Some time after this adventure St. Legar having differed with his companions fell into the acquaintance of one Tom Williams a printer , as he pretended, who found him a lodging at one H - s in Golden Lane, a remarkable place for the resort of thieves. Tom Williams finding St. Legar very ready at his pen, and it being summer time, and very little business stirring, he recommended him to the proprietor of the Penny Post, to steal and transscribe letters and essays for him out of the publick papers, and articles out of the Sessions Papers and Dying Speeches. St. Legar working very hard, and finding himself but ill paid, and perceiving he had to do with a very ignorant fellow, instead of political papers and essays transcribed the whole Dying Speeches from beginning to end, and making the proprietor believe they were some of Dr. Swift's best writings, and related to great people at the helm of affairs, he readily inserted them. St. Legar immediately blowed this affair about to all the proprietor's acquaintance, and amongst the people who took in the Penny Post, and thus paying himself with a jest, returned to his acquaintance.
St. Legar being reherded again with his old society, and cash being very low amongst them, they took a ramble one day into St. James's Park without any other immediate meaning than to see what accident might throw in their way: Walking along the side of the Mall they observed a very fine fellow walking with two ladies, to both of whom he seemed to make love with an infinite deal of affectation and foppery; and though his person was but very so, so, not to say ordinary, yet he seemed to act as if he imagined both the ladies were in love with him. A thought instantly struck St. Legar how to make a penny of him; he struck over to the footman on the other side of the Mall to enquire who he was, and where he lodged, which having learned, he returned to his comrades and acquainted them with his design, of robbing that gentleman, which he thus executed. He imitated a female hand, and wrote a very genteel letter, intimating that the writer was a young woman of quality, had a very great esteem for him, and would gladly learn his thoughts thereupon. This letter was wrote on gilt paper, folded up in a cover, and left for him at his lodgings, with directions how to answer it, which immediately after receiving was performed with great alacrity: Whereupon St. Legar leaves another letter, wherein the gentleman was appointed an interview on the south side of the Serpentine River in Hyde Park at six the next morning, where he came very punctually; but instead of meeting a Lady he found three men masked, who after diverting themselves for some time at the beaux expence, they desired the favour of his watch, rings, snuff-box, and money, which he very obligingly delivered; they then only civilly desired him, for his own sake to continue his walk a quarter of an hour, by which time they got into Kensington, took thence the road cross the fields to Chelsea
, and so by water to London. This money and effects, together about forty pounds, was fairly divided, and in about a fortnight's time all gone: When necessity calling upon them again to look out, they committed the robbery upon Mr. Piggot, for which they were sentenced.
John Riggleton of Stanmore Magna, in the county of Middlesex, was indicted for the wilful murder of Margaret his wife, by giving her one mortal wound with a knife in the throat, of the depth of four inches and a half, and the depth of half an inch, of which she instantly died, July 9.
John Riggleton, about 30 years of age, a native of the town of Stanmore Magna, born of good honest parents, who put him to school, and had both will and abilities not only to have given him a good education, but also to have brought him up to business; but he was from his childhood, through a natural defect in his understanding, incapable of either; he therefore when of a proper age only followed labouring business , drove cattle to and from London, or otherways as occasion required, and sometimes applied himself to sowing and reaping: after some time spent in this way, he married a wife who had one natural daughter, and with whom he always lived in great discord; he was married to her ten or twelve years, and had by her several children, two whereof are still living, and were in the same room when the murder was committed, as was also her natural daughter. On the 9th of July, the day of the murder, he and his wife came to London together, at the instance of the wife, in order as it seems to see Stephens executed for the murder of his wife; after which execution they went home together very peaceably, but after they were a bed quarrelled, and then this fatal disaster followed. He was a man of very strong passions, and his wife, if report says true, of much the same unhappy turn; the man was really at intervals quite a lunatic, the woman mistress of no degree of prudence, so that their state together was perfectly miserable. He was in one of the worst of his fits on this fatal night, and the fire of his spirits not a little increased by the fuel of his wife's ill tongue, and worse behaviour: she wanted to shove the poor man out of bed, but he not being in a state of mind capable of bearing ill usage, he took out his knife from his coat pocket, and therewith first cut her throat, then drew his knife down her breast, opened her stomach, and ripped up her belly; he cut and mangled her face and body in such a manner as is hardly to be conceived. His wife's natural daughter, who was the eldest, got out of the room and ran away to the neighbours for help, while the poor young children that remained, hid themselves in the room as well as they could. The neighbours met the poor wretch, a little way from the house, with his bloody knife in his hand, and himself all over in goar blood, with a wildness and terror in his looks not to be described. He made no manner of resistance, but in a confused manner owned the
murder, which indeed was so obvious as not to need any confession. When they asked him why he did it, he only told them an incoherent story about the devil, and such stuff as naturally enough occurs to ordinary minds on the like occasions. His behaviour during his continuance in Newgate was generally wild and inconsistent, and but now and then capable of giving a rational answer. I asked him if he intended to murder his children, or his wife's daughter, he answered plainly, no. At chapel his behaviour was quite extravagant. The first time he was there he sat upon the end of the Communion table with his face towards me as I was praying at the desk, staring for some time very hard at me; at length he rose up on a sudden, and putting his mouth close to my ear, made a most horrible outcry; I threatened to call the keepers, and then he desisted. After service was over I asked him the cause of such irregular behaviour; he said there was a man behind the grates stared him in the face, and he could not bear it. His appearance at chapel was really very frightful, his face had all the dried clotted blood remaining on it, and his breast being open a great quantity of the gore remained between his shirt and his breast. He from being extravagant, grew quite stupid and insensible, and left this world in a very miserable and deplorable way. If he was not mad, I know not how to account for his behaviour, he not seeming to have an understanding capable of acting it to so much perfection; but whether he was so before the murder, his neighbours are best able to determine.
At the Place of EXECUTION.
THAT morning I went to attend in chapel about six o'Clock, but none of the three attended save only the miserable murderer John Riggleton, who indeed was more regular in making some responses, and being attentive to prayers and exhortations than I or any other body expected. The other two, St. Legar and Kelly, would not come to chapel upon any account whatsoever, having been so indoctrinated by the Popish Priests, that they would not attend to the Protestant service, but rather willing to stay in the dungeon cells than to go up to the chapel of Newgate, where they would have had the benefit of good and free air.
St. Legar confessed to me that he had been concerned in the smuggling trade for some time while he was master of some boats, and by this method of life he said he was always afraid of punishment, and it may be doubted whether it was not at last the occasion of his coming over to England; for though he parted with his boats and went to Dublin, and took upon him to serve gentlemen in the capacity of a servant ; yet, by what I could gather from him about the reason of his entering himself into place, it was to serve him as a disguise, by which he was in great hopes of evading the law.
Kelly told me he had been butler to the Lady Ross, and served her faithfully, but could not forbear acknowledging, that, in support of his extravagancies, he was much inclined to evil: And St. Legar, just before he died, cleared Cave their companion from being the particular occasion of this their misfortunes, saying, that they were all equally guilty, having together drunk themselves to a proper pitch for this diabolical deed. St. Legar and Kelly were unmarried men, and this they said made them the easier, for they left no family to inherit their misfortunes.
About eight o'Clock, the Sheriff demanding their bodies, they were all three put into one cart, and, through a great number of spectators, were carried to the fatal tree. When they came there, St. Legar appeared to be much frighted, Kelly was not quite so much affected, and poor Riggleton, being almost stupid, did not alter in his behaviour. They had nothing to add to their confessions; St. Legar and Kelly died Papists, and they with Riggleton, cried unto God to receive their souls.
This is all the Account given by me,
I conceive the Reader will not be displeased, if instead of treating him with imaginary letters, I present him with a collation of thoughts on the subject of Murder, which can no where be more properly introduced, than on this fatal and barbarous occasion.
THE two great principles which divest men of their humanity, are passion and resentment, while these are suffered to live in the breast of man, reason and social love are banished from his soul, and he degenerates into a being for which we have no regular appellation; some name it a fury, some a devil; but as neither of these terms are connected with, or relate to any visible objects, whereby to constitute any fixt idea, we shall only consider the man who is not master of his passions, but suffers them to break out into acts of violence, as a Being too wicked for words to express.
Those who examine history find, that all mankind in every age or time, whether Heathens, or Christians, have concurred in esteeming a murderer, as the most profligate of all villains, and have generally adapted the punishment to the crime: It is the same case with many nations at this day, particularly in France; why they are treated in the same manner in England as other criminals, is owing to our being boun down to the letter of the law, th natural abhorrence we have to cru and bloody executions, and to the legislature's conceiving it hardly possible for a fellow creature to be guilty of a crime so barbarous and unnatural, more especially on those
whom by all laws divine and human, we ought in a more particular manner to love and cherish; but as instances of this kind grow upon us, the law will by degrees in course become more severe, lest for want of a stop being put thereto in time, the government subject themselves to improper reflections, and we become the butcherers of one another with impunity.
All mankind are so far capable of reasoning as to know the distinction between right and wrong in this particular case, however defective some may be in many others: And while we are allowed to have reason and to judge, there is not the least shadow of an excuse for the committing of so atrocious a crime, the true causes whereof are, as I said above, passion, and resentment, sometimes exercised hastily, but too often with deliberation, which is owing to pride, wilfulness, and inhumanity. The same man who beats another, for what he thinks some little affront to his dignity, would, if not for his own sake, as conceiving his destruction must follow, as readily murder him; and one is generally committed on the same principle as the other. Therefore the first guard upon one's self against murder, is to prepare against taking any seeming affronts.
In the married state most quarrels arise from trifles, and the man is more usually affronted because the woman is impertinent, or won't condescend to think him her King or her God, than for any other crimes she can possibly be guilty of. Man vainly enough sets a very great value upon his power and understanding, and whoever affronts his mightiness in either of those particulars, he immediately conceives his worst enemies; when did he but reflect a moment on his own worthlessness, he would presently apprehend, that those who so treat him, contribute to give him the best light into himself, and consequently are his best friends whether they design it or no: While the charms of flattery, which only tend to the making of him mistake his real value, throw him into raptures, and cause him to esteem those his real friends, whom he ought to think of and treat as his worst enemies. Now the married woman by constant conversation knowing her husband much better than generally speaking he knows himself, and being too much his friend to deceive him, in the fulness of her heart vents her real thoughts of the matter; for as she is a being not capable of containing what she knows, nor perhaps studying human nature enough to be a little discreet, out it must come, and then she is a lit
tle easy: Her Lord resents this, and thereupon according as he is blest with understanding, or has power to govern his passions, he either beats or murders her; the consequence whereof is, that in case of murder, he immediately recovers himself from one passion, and falls into another; astonishment, terror, and desperation immediately seizes the whole man; and as his pride and resentment in some measure crazed him before, he then grows quite distracted; he sees nothing about him but ghosts and devils; his optic nerves transform every object that presents, into horrid appearances, and those things which gave him before the utmost joy and delight, are changed into scenes of the utmost terror. Thus the beauties of nature and all its shining glories instantly vanish from his sight, and human thought is incapable of fully describing what is substituted in their stead: No man can possibly conceive the misery, that has not tasted it, and he who has, can never return to relate it. But from what we see outwardly we may in some measure judge, what kind of terrors are the reward of wickedness, the rest let no man in his senses know; and the sure way not to know it, is to carefully guard against suffering our passions and resentments, thro' pride and wilfulness, rising into a flame that consumes ourselves, and finishes our destruction.