was deeply affected and shed tears—­but Gibbs gazed with a steady and unwavering eye, and no sign betrayed the least emotion of his heart.  After his condemnation, and during his confinement, his frame became somewhat enfeebled, his face paler, and his eyes more sunken; but the air of his bold, enterprising and desperate mind still remained.  In his narrow cell, he seemed more like an object of pity than vengeance—­was affable and communicative, and when he smiled, exhibited so mild and gentle a countenance, that no one would take him to be a villain.  His conversation was concise and pertinent, and his style of illustration quite original.

Gibbs was married in Buenos Ayres, where he has a child now living.  His wife is dead.  By a singular concurrence of circumstances, the woman with whom he became acquainted in Liverpool, and who is said at that time to have borne a decent character, was lodged in the same prison with himself.  During his confinement he wrote her two letters—­one of them is subjoined, to gratify the perhaps innocent curiosity which is naturally felt to know the peculiarities of a man’s mind and feelings under such circumstances, and not for the purpose of intimating a belief that he was truly penitent.  The reader will be surprised with the apparent readiness with which he made quotations from Scripture.

“BELLEVUE PRISON, March 20, 1831.

“It is with regret that I take my pen in hand to address you with these few lines, under the great embarrassment of my feelings placed within these gloomy walls, my body bound with chains, and under the awful sentence of death!  It is enough to throw the strongest mind into gloomy prospects! but I find that Jesus Christ is sufficient to give consolation to the most despairing soul.  For he saith, that he that cometh to me I will in no ways cast out.  But it is impossible to describe unto you the horror of my feelings.  My breast is like the tempestuous ocean, raging in its own shame, harrowing up the bottom of my soul!  But I look forward to that serene calm when I shall sleep with Kings and Counsellors of the earth.  There the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary are at rest!—­There the prisoners rest together—­they hear not the voice of the oppressor; and I trust that there my breast will not be ruffled by the storm of sin—­for the thing which I greatly feared has come upon me.  I was not in safety, neither had I rest; yet trouble came.  It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth to him good.  When I saw you in Liverpool, and a peaceful calm wafted across both our breasts, and justice no claim upon us, little did I think to meet you in the gloomy walls of a strong prison, and the arm of justice stretched out with the sword of law, awaiting the appointed period to execute the dreadful sentence.  I have had a fair prospect in the world, at last it budded, and brought forth the gallows.  I am shortly to mount that scaffold, and to bid adieu to this world, and all that was ever dear to my breast.  But I trust when my body is mounted on the gallows high, the heavens above will smile and pity me.  I hope that you will reflect on your past, and fly to that Jesus who stands with open arms to receive you.  Your character is lost, it is true.  When the wicked turneth from the wickedness that they have committed, they shall save their soul alive.