sadly smiling, whispered the words of Pierre,
"We have deceived the senate." The Chief
Justice, perceiving the condition of the
prisoner, thought of remanding him, but the
Attorney-General prayed for judgment. Then
"the Reverend William Jackson was set
forward." All eyes were directed towards him.
His body teemed with profuse perspiration, the
steam rose from his hair, the muscles of his face
twitched in convulsions, his eyes were nearly
closed, and when at intervals he opened them
the dull dry light of death glared out of them.
Ordered by the court to stand up, his mind
strove to command his failing body. He rose,
but tottered and reeled as if about to fall. At
last he crossed his arms tightly over his breast,
and rocking to and fro awaited the traitor's
dreadful sentence of doom. When the clerk of
the court directed him to hold up his hand, he
strove to raise it, but the powerless arm dropped
instantly at his side. When the clerk demanded,
in the usual form, "what he had now to say why
judgment of death and execution thereon should
not be awarded against him according to law,"
Mr.Curran rose and moved an arrest of judgment.
A legal argument of some length ensued. All
the while the prisoner grew worse and worse;
he presented the aspect of a living corpse. Mr.
Curran proposed that he should be remanded, as
his state of body rendered communication
between him and his counsel, impossible. Lord
Clonmell thought it would be lenity to dispose
of the sentence with all speed. They opened the
windows of the court, and the cold air came
rushing in. But the spirits of Death gathered
closer round him, and now he fainted. He sank
down in the dock. The crowd heard the hollow
sound of his convulsive movements against the
panelling. The closing scene is thus described:

Lord Clonmell: "If the prisoner is in a state
of insensibility, it is impossible that I can
pronounce the judgment of the court upon him."

Thereupon, Mr. Thomas Kinsley, an apothecary,
who was in the jury-box, said he would
go down to him. He stooped down over the
dock, felt Jackson's pulse, and then turning
round towards the judge, declared that the
prisoner was certainly dying. By order of the
court, Mr. Kinsley was sworn.

Lord Clonmell: Are you in any profession?

Mr. Kinsley: I am an apothecary.

Lord Clonmell: Can you speak with certainty
of the state of the prisoner?

Mr. Kinsley: I can; I think him verging to
eternity.

Lord Clonmell: Do you think him capable
of hearing his judgment?

Mr. Kinsley: I do not think he can.

Lord Clonmell: Then he must be taken
away. Take care that in sending him away no
mischief be done. Let him be remanded until
further orders; and I believe it is as much for
his advantage, as for all of yours, to adjourn.

But the further orders never were delivered;
the case of the prisoner had been already
transferred to another tribunal. The sheriff, pale
and horror-stricken, informed the court that the
man was dead.

All rose and hurriedly left the court. The
jailers laid the corpse straight on the floor of
the dock, and hastened away. Many a man
dead by the execution of the law had they seen,
but never such a sight as this. All through
the night, the dead lay there, a guard of
soldiers keeping silent watch. There is a story
that at midnight a weeping woman stole in
like a spirit, kissed the cold lips, clasped
the rigid hands, and vanished. Next day an.
inquest was held; the body contained a large
quantity of metallic poison. The jailer swore
that on the preceding day, a little before the
prisoner was brought up to court, he found him
with his wife, greatly agitated, and vomiting
violently. "I have taken some tea," said
Jackson, "which has disagreed with me." He
had died of poison, and baffled the law. Whether
it was to save himself and his family from the
shame of an ignominious execution, or to
preserve his property from confiscation, he had
hurried to the final Court of Appeal. In his
pocket, as he lay dead, were found some
passages from the penitential Psalms, in his own
handwriting.

Such a scene could never be forgotten by
those who witnessed it. Few, however, could
imagine the effect it had upon the judge. Here
is his "note," written with his own hand on the
very night of Jackson's death, when the eyes of
the corpse were rigidly fixed upon the ceiling
of the court:

"April 30, 1795.—Recollect the death of
that Jackson, at the moment that judgment was
about to be pronounced upon him. This should
make a new judicial era in your life. As to
regimen, diligence, and exercise, remember to
ride and walk as much, to eat and sleep as little,
as possible; to read law as much, to idle as
little as you can, and never to fret at all; to
laugh, and smile as much, to frown and sulk as
little, as may be. Never to be drunk. Put
yourself into no person's power. Live as long
and as happy as you can. Turn each moment
to the best account, and make the most of each
good occasion, and the best of every bad one.
Look to God and yourself only."

What a comment on so fearful a tragedy,
and written by a judge's hand!

      Now ready, bound in cloth, price 5s. 6d.,
VOLUME THE SEVENTEENTH.