same time conciliate the admiration of the pitying spectator.  Lest what I have said should be misunderstood, it is right distinctly to say, no want of consideration for the feelings of the criminals was evinced.  The officers who pinioned them, when their work was done, shook each by the hand with an appearance of sincere commiseration.  The matter-of-course way in which they acquitted themselves offended me, but I had no right to expect that in performing what to them were but common-place labours, they should study my fastidious notions of fitness and effect.  But a still greater contrast to the awful character of the preparations presented itself.  When I drew near the table on which the ropes lay, and by which the miserable being who had most engrossed my attention then stood, I perceived on that very table the materials for gambling.  Lines, passing across it, had been indented to prepare it for a game, I believe the same as that which king Henry VIII. took some trouble to put down, under the name of “Shove-groat.”  The strange variety thus placed before me—­the mingling symbols of dissipation and misery, of pastime and of death, caused my mind, already sufficiently excited, to experience a sudden emotion which I know not how to convey to another.

The third criminal entered.  This was a young man of prepossessing exterior, who had recently moved in a higher sphere than either of his companions in suffering.  His cheek was flushed when he entered, and he staggered forward, writhing in agony, and scarcely able to sustain himself.  He looked at those who surrounded him as if he feared to discover some who had known him in the day of his pride.  It was necessary to support him while his irons were being removed.  He was attended by a benevolent person who commonly assists criminals in their last moments, and who, though no ecclesiastic by profession, seemed equal to the duty of imparting religious consolation.  His voice now contributed to soothe his unhappy charge, and in a few moments all that was necessary there to be done had been performed.  The hands of the culprits were secured, and the halters by which they were to perish were thrown round their shoulders.

The fortitude of the young man first brought in had, till this moment, enabled him, though not unmoved, to look with calmness on the appalling scene.  But now when he saw that but one more ceremony intervened between him and the grave, his resolution suddenly failed him.  He burst into tears, and a wild shriek of “O my mother—­my poor mother,” embodied in speech a portion of the agony which raged in his bosom.  He was conducted to a bench, on which his fellows had just been seated.  A glass of water was handed to him, with which he moistened his fevered lips, and the voice of devotion again claimed attention, and commanded silence.

In that moment few, if any, of the spectators remembered the crimes of those they looked upon.  Every mind was solely occupied with the terrible punishment about to be inflicted.