I have thought proper to premise these observations, before I related the melancholy instance of a young man, a native of the city of New York, by the name of John Taylor, who put an end to his life on the first of this month, by hanging himself, in prison No. 5.
By the position in which he was found in the morning, he must have been all intent on death; he had fastened himself to one of the stantions so that his toes could just touch the floor. We knew of no other cause than that despair had given him less courage to live than to die.
Thinking it might tend to deter others from following the example of this unhappy victim of despair, I procured a large slate, and engraved on it the following inscription, which I put at the head of his grave, where it remains on the moor:
Here lies
JOHN TAYLOR,
A native citizen of the city of New York,
Who committed suicide, by hanging himself
in prison No. 5, on the evening
of the first of December, 1814.
I then put over each prison, as a caveat, the following memento, as it was feared others would do the same act:
Whene’er you view this doleful tomb,
Remember what you are,
And put your trust in God alone:
Suppress that fiend, Despair.
Lo! there’s entomb’d a generous youth