The next morning, before the sun was in his power, an immense concourse assembled round the place where the gallows had been set up.  Grief and horror were on every face; yet to the last the multitude could hardly believe that the English really purposed to take the life of the great Brahmin.  At length the mournful procession came through the crowd.  Nuncomar sat up in his palanquin, and looked round him with unaltered serenity.  He had just parted from those who were most nearly connected with him.  Their cries and contortions had appalled the European ministers of justice, but had not produced the smallest effect on the iron stoicism of the prisoner.  The only anxiety which he expressed was that men of his own priestly caste might be in attendance to take charge of his corpse.  He again desired to be remembered to his friends in the Council, mounted the scaffold with firmness, and gave the signal to the executioner.  The moment that the drop fell, a howl of sorrow and despair rose from the innumerable spectators.  Hundreds turned away their faces from the polluting sight, fled with loud wailings towards the Hoogley, and plunged into its holy waters, as if to purify themselves from the guilt of having looked on such a crime.  These feelings were not confined to Calcutta.  The whole province was greatly excited; and the population of Dacca, in particular, gave strong signs of grief and dismay.

Of Impey’s conduct it is impossible to speak too severely.  We have already said that, in our opinion, he acted unjustly in refusing to respite Nuncomar.  No rational man can doubt that he took this course in order to gratify the Governor-General.  If we had ever had any doubts on that point, they would have been dispelled by a letter which Mr. Gleig has published.  Hastings, three or four years later, described Impey as the man “to whose support he was at one time indebted for the safety of his fortune, honour, and reputation.”  These strong words can refer only to the case of Nuncomar; and they must mean that Impey hanged Nuncomar in order to support Hastings.  It is, therefore, our deliberate opinion that Impey, sitting as a judge, put a man unjustly to death in order to serve a political purpose.

But we look on the conduct of Hastings in a somewhat different light.  He was struggling for fortune, honour, liberty, all that makes life valuable.  He was beset by rancorous and unprincipled enemies.  From his colleagues he could expect no justice.  He cannot be blamed for wishing to crush his accusers.  He was indeed bound to use only legitimate means for that end.  But it was not strange that he should have thought any means legitimate which were pronounced legitimate by the sages of the law, by men whose peculiar duty it was to deal justly between adversaries, and whose education might be supposed to have peculiarly qualified them for the discharge of that duty.  Nobody demands from a party the unbending equity of a judge.  The reason that judges are appointed