To J. Price, Esq., Sheriff, &c.

Among the "effects," left behind, were sundry saws, files, and chisels of the best workmanship and materials; a large roll of putty, to have been used in concealing the saw-marks, in case a second night's labor had been required; and a valise containing a variety of books, wearing apparel, and letters received from his friend during his confinement. One of them was from his wife, a young, lovely, and accomplished woman. It is full of love, devotion, and Christian resignation, and ends as follows:—

"The dear baby is quite well, and is growing finely every day. She is a dear, beautiful child. Oh that God may keep her for us both, for she will make us so happy, she binds us so closely together.

"Here are some lines which I have preserved for some time. They have often comforted me, and I hope your feelings are such that they may comfort you."

"GOD'S WAY IS BEST." This blessed truth I long have known.
So soothing in its hopeful tone—
Whate'er our trials, cares and woes.
Our Father's mercy freely flows—
That on his bosom we may rest.
For God is good, "His way is best."
Trouble without and grief within.
Are the sure heritage of sin;
And e'en affection's voice may die
In the last quivering, gasping sigh;
But what though death our souls distress,
'Twere better thus—"God's way is best."
Misfortune's dark and bitter blight
May fall upon us like the night;
Our souls with anguish may be torn
When we are called o'er friends to mourn;
But what assurance doubly blest.
To feel that all "God's ways are best."
Yes, glorious thought! in yonder sky
Are joys supreme which never die—
That when our earthly course is run.
We'll live in regions of the sun;
And there, upon the Savior's breast.
We'll sing for aye, "God's way is best."

It was a doctrine advanced by Mahomet, that all men after death were obliged to cross a fiery gulf, upon a bridge as narrow as a single hair. The good always succeeded in effecting their passage safely, while the wicked were precipitated into the depths below.

This idea might be extended to the present life, by way of illustrating the difficulties which beset those who follow a criminal course, and attempt to conceal the fact from the eyes of others. A step too far, or not far enough, this way or that, is sufficient to cause them to slip, and this kind of tight-rope balancing is a species of moral gymnastics, in the execution of which few are successful.

A specimen of this was once furnished me by a post master against whom serious complaints had been made to the Department, but who was not aware of the existence of such charges. In the course of several interviews which I held with him, I gave him not the remotest hint that I suspected his integrity, yet (probably on the principle of taking medicine when one is well, or thinks he is, in order to be better) he resorted to several somewhat original expedients to establish a character for honesty in my estimation.

The most striking of these was the following:—