noon.

The painful details of the separation and disposal of the parts are then described by Professor Webster,-the body dismembered; the head, viscera, and some of the limbs thrown into the fire of the furnace, ' and fuel heaped on;' and the remainder of the body put in two cisterns with water, one of which was under the lid of the lecture-room table, and the other in the lower laboratory, into the latter of which a quantity of potash was at the same time thrown.

The

In continuation of this ghastly narrative, Professor Webster says:-When the body had been thus all disposed of, I cleared away all traces of what had been done. I think the stick with which the fatal blow had been struck, proved to be a piece of the stump of a large grape-vine-say two inches in diameter, and two feet long. It was one of several pieces which I had carried in from Cambridge long before, for the purpose of showing the effect of certain chemical fluids in coloring wood, by being absorbed into the pores. grape-vine, being a very porous wood, was well adapted for that purpose. Another longer stick had been used as intended, and exhibited to the students. This one had not been used. I put it into the fire. I took up the two notes either from the table or the floor; I think the table, close by where Doctor Parkman had fallen. I seized an old metallic pen lying on the table, dashed it across the face, and through the signatures, and put them in my pocket. I do not know why I did this rather than put them in the fire, for I had not considered for a moment what effect either mode of disposing of them would have on the mortgage, or my indebtedness to Doctor Parkman and the other persons

It was on Sunday that Professor Webster, according to his own assertion, for the first time made up his mind what course to take, and what account to give of the appointed meeting between him and Doctor Parkman; that on the same day he looked into the laboratory but did nothing; on Monday, after the officers' visit of search to the college, he threw the parts which had been under the lecture-table into the vault, and packed the thorax into the tea-chest; the perforation of the thorax was made by the knife; and at the time of removing the viscera on Wednesday, he put on kindlings, and made a fire in the furnace below, having first poked down the ashes; some of the limbs were consumed at this time. This, he says, was the last he had to do with the remains. The fish-hooks, tied up as grapples, were to be used for drawing up the parts in the vault. On the very night of the murder, he and his family made a neighborly call at Professor Treadwell's, passing the evening in social conversation and playing whist! It was that baneful feature in American society-extravagance - which alone brought Webster to calculate the life of his creditor and benefactor, and which, in so many other eminent examples, like those of Huntington, Ketchum, Edwards, Schuyler, and Gardiner, took the shape of gigantic frauds and peculation.

So plain were the facts involving Professor Webster's terrible guilt, however, that no efforts to palliate his atrocious crime had the least effect upon the public mind in lightening the crushing weight of infamy from his name, nor did the arm of retributive justice for a moment swerve or falter. Upon a scaffold, in the same quarter of his native city where he and his victim first breathed the breath of life, and

owed his appointment at Harvard University to the influence of Doctor Parkman and the eminent and honored Dr. Caspar Wistar, of Philadelphia, president of the American Philosophical Society.

No such deep and wide-spread excitement had, for many years, attended any other of the numerous murders committed for pecuniary motives, excepting, perhaps, the cold-blooded killing of Samuel Adams, a highly respected printer, by John C. Colt, author of the system of book-keeping and penmanship bearing his name, and brother of the well-known inventor of the revolver. This deed occurred in the city of New York, in September, 1841. Colt had for some time owed Adams a bill for printing, which he was unprepared to pay. The final call made by Adams, at Colt's room on Broadway, for a settlement of the account, resulted in a tragedy rarely equaled in the annals of crime.

For some days, the mysterious absence of Mr. Adams was the subject of universal comment in the newspaper press. The discovery of the murder was made through the instrumentality of Mr. Wheeler, who occupied a room adjoining that of Colt. About four o'clock, P. M., on the day of Mr. Adams's disappearance, Mr. Wheeler thought he heard an unusual noise in Colt's room, and was induced to go to the door and rap. Not receiving any answer, he looked through the key-hole, and saw two hats standing upon a table, and Colt kneeling upon the floor, as if scrubbing it. After waiting a little while, Mr. Wheeler peeped into the key-hole again, and saw Colt still engaged in the same operation. This excited his suspicions, and he caused a person to watch at the door all night. In the morning, Colt was seen to take a box, about four feet long and two high, down stairs. The box was directed to

Mr. Wheeler gave information of these facts to the mayor, who immediately instituted search for the box; it was found, after some difficulty, on board of the ship Kalamazoo, and in it the body of Mr. Adams, wrapped up in sail-cloth and sprinkled with salt and chloride of lime.

Colt was at once arrested, and an indictment for willful and deliberate murder found against him. His trial resulted in his conviction; and, notwithstanding the efforts of numerous and powerful friends, and the lavish use of money, in his behalf, the fatal day arrived when he was to pay the extreme penalty of the law for his great crime. The scaffold was erectedthe whole city surged with excitementthe crowd gathered around the prison was immense.

At eleven o'clock, Rev. Dr. Anthon visited Colt's cell, in company with Colt's brother, for the purpose of marrying the murderer to his mistress, Caroline Henshaw. The ceremony was performed, Colt manifesting a deep interest in their child. He also handed a package containing five hundred dollars for its benefit to Doctor Anthon, who proffered to become sponsor for it, which was eagerly accepted by Colt.

About one o'clock, Colt's brother, Samuel, again arrived, and entered the cell. Colt was still engaged in conversation with his wife, who was sitting on the foot of the bed, convulsed with tears. At Colt's request, John Howard Payne and Lewis Gaylord Clarke then went into the cell to take their leave of him. Colt appeared exceedingly pleased to see them, shook them cordially by the hand, and conversed with apparent cheerfulness with them for five minutes, when they bade him farewell, both of them in tears. Colt's wife, and his brother Samuel, also soon left, both deeply affected. The wife could scarcely support herself, so violent were her feelings and acute her sufferings. She stood at the door of the cell for a minute-Colt kissing her passionately, straining her to his bosom, and watching intensely her receding form, as she passed into the corridor.

Here she stood and sobbed convulsively, as though her heart would break, until led away by friends.

Colt now desired to see the sheriff, who went into his cell. Colt then told him emphatically that he was innocent of the murder of Adams, and that he never intended to kill him; he also said that he had hopes that something would intervene to save him from being hung, and begged the sheriff not to execute the sentence of the law upon him. The sheriff told him to banish all hope of that kind, for he must die at four o'clock. He then asked to see Doctor Anthon, who went into his cell, and remained in prayer with him about ten minutes. At the close of this, Colt again sent for the sheriff, and said to him, "If there are any gentlemen present who wish to see me, and take their leave of me, I shall be happy to see them." This was announced by the sheriff, and all present, with one or two exceptions, passed up to his cell door, shook him by the hand, and took their leave of him. To one gentleman connected with the press, he said: "I've spoken harshly of some of the press, but I do not blame you at all; it was all my own fault. There were things that ought to have been explained. I know you have a good heart, and I forgive you from my soul freely; may God bless you, and may you prosper."

He then requested the keeper, Mr. Greene, to let him be left alone until the last moment. This was about two o'clock. His cell was closed, and he was left alone till twenty minutes to three, when some friends of the sheriff, apprehending that an attempt at suicide might be made by Colt, desired deputy sheriff Hillyer to go to Colt's cell door, and request to wish him ' good bye.' Colt was then walking up 25

and down his cell, but turned around on the door opening, smiled on Hillyer, shook him by the hand and kissed him, as he did several of those who had just previously bid him farewell in this life. He said to Hillyer, "God bless you, and may you prosper in this life, which is soon to close on me."

From this time, the excitement around the prison increased tremendously, and the feelings of those in the prison were also worked up to a pitch of great intensity. No one, however, entered his cell till precisely five minutes to four o'clock, at which time Sheriffs Hart and Westervelt, dressed in uniform, and accompanied by Doctor Anthon, proceeded to the cell. On the keeper opening the door, Doctor Anthon, who was first, threw up his hands and eyes to Heaven, and uttering a faint ejaculation, turned pale as death and retired. "As I thought," said the keeper. "As I thought," said others. And going into the cell, there lay Colt on his back, stretched out at full length on the bed, quite dead, but not cold. A clasp knife, like a small dirk knife, with a broken handle, was sticking in his heart. He had stabbed himself about the fifth rib, on the left side. His temples were yet warm. His vest was open, the blood had flowed freely, and his hands, which were lying across the stomach, were very bloody; he had evidently worked and turned the knife round and round in his heart after stabbing himself, until he made quite a large gash. His mouth was open, his eyes partially so, and his body lay as straight on the bed as if laid out for a funeral by others. Most strange to say, just at this moment, the large cupola of the prison was discovered to be on fire, and burned furiously. The scene and circumstances were tragical to a degree altogether indescribable.