their words, spirit, or manner. To all appearances they were sincere.

Perfect order prevailed,—a most profound and respectful attention. Much of the time the dropping of a pin upon the floor could have been heard. An overpowering spirit seemed to pervade the room, not so much in the words uttered as in the convictions of each man's own heart, it was an impressive season. How was my soul relieved at this triumph over our fears and rejoiced at the way God had evidently opened before us.

Thus the meetings commenced and that too indicating, as the first results, the very blessing I had been hoping and praying for, a deeper impressiveness to our Sabbath and other religious efforts. Shortly after, we found that hearts not sensibly touched before, were being deeply impressed, among them one of the worst cases perhaps in prison. It was taking a new start in the right direction.

In laboring with these men now, as at all times, I felt that a great responsibility rested on me; that this was no place for dealing softly, petting them with insinuations that they had been more sinned against than sinning, and that nothing was needed for them but a professed determination to amend, with a few efforts in that direction. Duty seemed imperative that I should labor to bring the wrong doings of each as clearly and impressively as could be before him, how deeply he had sinned against his own best good, his fellows and his God, enforcing the absolute necessity of true repentance, and turning to the right through faith in Christ; that he must make a thorough, radical work of the matter, or it would avail nothing. Thus plainly, yet coupled with a feeling heart, I invariably met the prisoners on these subjects. And where no evidence could be found of a realizing sense of sins committed and true compunction therefor, we could found no hope in the case.

13. Pike, the Hampton murderer. On entering, I found him in prison, not at work, but confined to his cell according to our present law, that, when one is condemned to execution, he shall be confined in the State Prison one year, at the end of which the sentence shall be carried out, unless receiving a reprieve or commutation.

By law also, the criminal has the right to choose his own spiritual adviser, and, much to my relief, I found that Pike had arranged with my predecessor about this before he left. Still I volunteered to the doomed man all the aid in my power, for which he appeared highly grateful.

The plea of insanity had been used on the trial, or that the accused was in a state of mind, when committing the offense, that rendered him irresponsible for the crime alleged, which plea Pike would ever make to me, sometimes alluding to the great injustice of his being hung. But as Mr. Holman had undertaken to fathom that, I never pressed him with any particular inquiry on the matter.

It would seem impossible for one manifesting the spirit Pike always did to us, to commit so horrid a crime, and probably he never would had he been free from rum. In prison, he at all times appeared gentlemanly and kind-hearted, helped me a number of days in repairing the library, and seemed glad of the opportunity.

When laboring with those he afterwards murdered, he was uniformly pleasant, ready to do anything for them they needed. They parted on the most friendly terms, the old people earnestly urging him to continue with them still longer.

But when Pike was under the influence of liquor, he was a very different man, and at times a highly dangerous character. In this he was fully responsible, for he could have let the drink alone, and did when he chose. I saw nothing leading me to doubt his full responsibility in the murder. But others also are responsible,—those who helped him to his liquor and thus caused his madness. Against them, also, the blood of those mangled forms cries loudly from the ground to a righteous God for vengeance. The community likewise, which, by supineness and inactivity, permitted those persons to carry on their nefarious traffic, must come in for its share. The blame of that startling act does not all lie at Pike's door, though he was guilty enough.

When I attempted to urge upon him the importance of a full preparation for the dread event before him, he seemed strangely inclined to put it off and almost callous to the magnitude of his sin. He would admit that his career had been one of desperate wickedness, but did not appear truly moved in spirit by its real enormity, or as having genuine repentance over the matter, a thorough breaking up of the fallow ground of the heart. Trusting to the idea of his non-responsibility as a shielding circumstance, he no doubt felt almost perfect confidence, till near the last, that a pardon, or commutation, would be granted, and ventured on that assurance. I constantly discouraged the idea, repeatedly urging him to put no confidence in that, but earnestly to set about a preparation for the worst. The final decision of the executive power, not to interfere with the decision of the court, came to me, but in such a way that I was not at liberty to announce it till officially divulged. Still, feeling so anxious for the criminal, I went as far as the circumstances would allow, and said to him, "From what I hear, your case is finally decided, but not in your favor. And I am perfectly satisfied that my information is reliable." But it was not official, and the very fact of its being withheld inspired him with hope that I was mistaken.

The rulers, no doubt, did as they thought best in the matter, but it would seem that there was an error on their part in not communicating their finality to the criminal as soon as made. It was a grave matter to him, and the last few days he reflected no little upon the course.

In our labors with the doomed man, we had two prominent points before us, one to fit his mind for going upon the gallows with the needed fortitude, the other to lead him to a due preparation for appearing before his God. During the last week, by his desire, clergymen from the city visited him. A few of the singers from the city, also, by the warden's invitation, occasionally called and spent a short time with him, singing some of those devotional pieces so well fitted to his case, which were followed by prayer and then all retired. His cell was now in the hall. This occurred when the other prisoners were in the shop at work, for at no other time were visitors allowed at his cell. Two or three of his last days were spent in the hospital, which then had no sick occupant. The strictest care and watchfulness were observed by the officers, so that, whether in his cell or in the hospital, he could not possibly escape if he attempted it.

The day appointed for the execution was Tuesday. Monday the criminal frankly admitted to his adviser, that he knew what he was doing that terrible night, and was fully responsible for the deed, which acknowledgment he signed in writing. He also dictated a letter to his youngest brother, faithfully warning him against following his own ways of wildness and drinking, also a note containing good advice to two young men who had been officers in the prison, and finally an address to be read on the scaffold. Brothers and other relatives took leave of him Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning.

The fatal hour was fixed at eleven, A. M. Pike was up in due season, took a slight morning repast, dressed for the day, had devotional exercises, and finished parting with friends at nine, that he might have opportunity for becoming duly rested and composed in mind for that painful occasion. At ten the other officers retired, leaving him alone with us two. What an hour before us? I had never experienced the like before and hope never to again. It