effort, I felt relieved to see the gaoler enter.  He was used to such scenes; and with an air of commiseration, but in a tone which lacked none of the firmness with which he habitually spoke, he asked the unhappy man some question of his welfare, and seemed satisfied with the head-shake and inarticulately muttered replies of the again drooping wretch, as if they were expected, and of course.  Having directed the turnkey to place some wine and slight refreshments on the table, and to trim the light, he told me in a whisper, that my friends would be at the prison, with the clergyman, at the hour of six; and bidding the miserable convict and myself, after a cheering word or two, “good night,” he departed—­the door was closed—­and the murderer and I were finally left together.

It was now past the hour of ten o’clock; and it became my solemn duty to take heed, that the last few hours of the dying sinner passed not, without such comfort to his struggling soul as human help might hold out.  After reading to him some passages of the gospel, the most apposite to his trying state, and some desultory and unconnected conversation—­for the poor creature, at times seemed to be unable, under his load of horror, to keep his ideas connected further than as they dwelt upon his own nearing and unavoidable execution—­I prevailed upon him to join in prayer.  He at this time appeared to be either so much exhausted, or labouring under so much lassitude from fear and want of rest, that I found it necessary to take his arm and turn him upon his knees by the pallet-side.  The hour was an awful one.  No sound was heard save an occasional ejaculation between a sigh and a smothered groan from the wretched felon.  The candle burned dimly; and as I turned I saw, though I scarcely noticed it at the moment, a dim insect of the moth species, fluttering hurriedly round it, the sound of whose wings mournfully filled up the pauses of myself and my companion.  When the nerves are strained to their uttermost, by such trifling circumstances are we affected.  Here (thought I) there has been no light, at such an hour, for many years; and yet here is one whose office it seems to be to watch it!  My spirit felt the necessity of some exertion; and with an energy, for which a few moments before I had hardly dared to hope, I poured out my soul in prayer.  I besought mercy upon the blood-stained creature who was grovelling beside me—­I asked that repentance and peace might be vouchsafed him—­I begged, for our Redeemer’s sake, that his last moments might know that untasted rapture of sin forgiven, and a cleansed soul, which faith alone can bring to fallen man—­I conjured him to help and aid me to call upon the name of Christ; and I bade him put off life and forget it, and to trust in that name alone—­I interceded that his latter agony might be soothed, and that the leave-taking of body and soul might be in quietness and peace.  But he shook and shivered, and nature clung to the miserable straw of existence which yet floated upon