Fantom, who did not at all relish this scene, said to his friend, "Well, sir, we will go, if you please, for you see there is nothing to be done." "Sir," replied Mr. Trueman, mournfully, "you may go if you please, but I shall stay, for I see there is a great deal to be done." "What!" rejoined the other, "do you think it possible his life can be saved?" "No, indeed," said Trueman, "but I hope it possible his soul may be saved!" "I do not understand these things," said Fantom, making toward the door. "Nor I, neither," said Trueman, "but as a fellow-sinner, I am bound to do what I can for this poor man. Do you go home, Mr. Fantom, and finish your treatise on universal benevolence, and the blessed effects of philosophy; and, hark ye, be sure you let the frontispiece of your book represent _William on the gibbet_; that will be what our minister calls a PRACTICAL ILLUSTRATION. You know I hate theories; this is _realizing_; this is PHILOSOPHY made easy to the meanest capacity. This is the precious fruit which grows on that darling tree, so many slips of which have been transplanted from that land of liberty of which it is the native, but which, with all your digging, planting, watering, dunging, and dressing, will, I trust, never thrive in this blessed land of ours." Mr. Fantom sneaked off to finish his work at home, and Mr. Trueman staid to finish his in the prison. He passed the night with the wretched convict; he prayed with him and for him, and read to him the penitential psalms, and some portions of the gospel. But he was too humble and too prudent a man to venture out of his depth by arguments and consolations which he was not warranted to use; this he left for the clergyman--but he pressed on William the great duty of making the only amends now in his power to those whom he had led astray. They then drew up the following paper, which Mr. Trueman got printed, and gave away at the place of execution: THE LAST WORDS, CONFESSION, AND DYING SPEECH OF WILLIAM WILSON, WHO WAS EXECUTED AT CHELMSFORD, FOR MURDER.