At eight o'clock this morning, Courvoisier ascended the steps leading to the gallows, and advanced, without looking round him, to the centre of the platform, followed by the executioner and the ordinary of the prison, the Rev. Mr Carver. On his appearance a few yells of execration escaped from a portion of the crowd, but the general body of the people, great as must have been their abhorrence of his atrocious crime, remained silent spectators of the scene which was passing before their eyes. The prisoner's manner was marked by an extraordinary appearance of firmness. His step was steady and collected, and his movements free from the slightest agitation or indecision. His countenance indeed was pale, and bore the trace of much dejection, but it was at the same time calm and unmoved. While the executioner was placing him on the drop he slightly moved his hands (which were tied in front of him, and strongly clasped one within the other) up and down two or three times, and this was the only visible symptom of any emotion or mental anguish which the wretched man endured. His face was then covered with the cap, fitting so closely as not to conceal the outlines of his countenance, the noose was then adjusted. During this operation he lifted up his head and raised his hands to his breast, as if in the action of fervent prayer. In a moment the fatal bolt was withdrawn, the drop fell, and in this attitude the murderer perished. He died without any violent struggle. In two minutes after he had fallen his legs were twice slightly convulsed, but no further motion was observable, excepting that his raised arms, gradually losing their vitality, sank down from their own lifeless weight. After hanging one hour, the body was cut down and removed within the prison. AFFECTING COPY OF VERSES. Attention give, both old and young, Of high and low degree, Think while this mournful tale is sung, Of my sad misery. I've slain a master good and kind, To me has been a friend, For which I must my life resign, My time is near an end. Oh hark! what means that dreadful sound? It sinks deep in my soul; It is the bell that sounds my knell, How solemn is the toll. See thousands are assembled Around the fatal place, To gaze on my approaching, And witness my disgrace. There many sympathising hearts, Who feel another's woe, Even now appears in sorrow, For my sad overthrow. Think of the aged man I slew, Then pity's at an end, I robb'd him of property and life, And the poor man of a friend.