The Sun.
London, England, 1864-11-15 00:00:00

dreadful moment, were a positive confessioa of his

guilt. Whether, as Dr. RAPPEL seemed to think,
upheld by the hope of reprieve, or whether frcm re.

uctance to admit his guilt to his fellow-men,

MULLER persistently replied to the adjurations

hat were addressed to him with declarations of his
,nnocence. It is true that after a recent visit from

one of the Sheriffs, who found him reading the
Bible, and reminded him that the promisee of mercy
were dependent upon repentance and confession,

that he remarked that confession to man was use-

.ess, an observation that seemed to indicate he had

something to tell if he would. But to the moving
appeals of Dr. KAPPEL he continued to repeat the
same assertions of innccence, although his kind

visitor told him plainly he believed he had a hand
in the crime, if not the only criminal. Only, at the
last moment, when with the fatal rope round his

neck, and his feet resting on the frail supports
about to be drawn away, were Dr. KAPPEL'S
efforts successful, and MULLER, shrinking seem-
ingly from facing his Maker with the reiterated lie,

said firmly and plainly, " Yes, I did it." Some

versions say that he added that no other person was
concerned in it, but whether or no, the admission
of his own guilt was the great point, and this was

conclusive and unmistakeable. So much was Dr

KAPPEL overcome by the emotion attending the
scene, and the almost unexpected success of his last

appeal, that he nearly fainted from agitation. And
so ends this dismal story, and those who, from mis-
taken kindness, would have sought to mitigate the
culprit's doom are now finally con vinced of the justice
of his sentence. The conviction of MuLLER's guilt
was almost unanimous, and for the most part those
who denied that he was the only criminal, believed

with Dr. KAPPEL that he was concerned in the
murder. His confession was the only thing to be

hoped for to set the point definitively at rest, for,

although the chain of evidence had not a link mis

sing, still there will always remain some who are

hard to convince, and others who, appalled by the
nature of the punishment, shrink from the respon-
sibility of condemning a possibly innocent man to a

violent and shameful death. No crime of late years

has created the same intense and general excite-
ment. From the first announcement of the murder

to the tragedy of yes'erday, all London was moved
by it, Even in quiet byeways and out of the way

suburbs the curiosity and anxiety,to obtain tidings
of the culprit's last moments were intense, and
the ordinary channels of news could not be obtained
fast enough. When it was known that MULLER
had confessed his guilt there was a sensible relief
in the public mind, for however great the moral
conviction, an absolute admission deepens and
strengthens it. So much have we recoiled from
the Draconian theory of a past generation, and so
deeply has the public mind been impressed with
the tales of innocent victims to a mistaken convic-
tion dying on the scaffold, that judge, jury, and
public would now be far more willing to acquit a
guilty man than to condemn unjustly, though, in
truth, as the Lord Chief Baron very justly observed,
both are great misfortunes in the administration of
national justice. Still we must not hope or rely
on always obtaining such an admission, and justice
would soon stand still if murderers knew that their
silence would ensure their escape from the gallows.
The man who deliberately plans to take the life of
a fellow-creature is not likely to hesitate about tell-
ing a lie, and it would cost him very little to deny
his guilt, and to persist in that denial in spite of
every entreaty. One thing is forcibly shown by
the circumstances attending MULLER'S death and
confession, and that is the injury which is done to
the criminal and the public by the present uncer-
tain action of the law. Dr. KAPPEL declared his
conviction that the hope of life was so strong in
MULLER that he had made up his mind not to con-
fess until the very last moment, and this deter.,
mination, as we have eeen, he fully carried out.
Reprieves and commutations have become so fre-
quent that the criminals rely upon them, and are
naturally reluctant to speck the words that would
for the most part seal their doom. Thus the deter-
rent influence, which is the great argument in favour
of capital punishment, is in a great measure lost,
and, when inflicted, the culprit refuses to make that
confession which is the only atonement in his power.
Wise and good men may naturally object to capital
punishment in any shape, but so long as it is the
law of the land, it should be administered with
firmness as well as with mercy. The hand of Justice
should not tremble when she uses her sword, however
reluctant she may be to wield it. However forcible the
arguments against the extreme penalty, a civilised
community may well shrink from breaking down
that barrier with which men in all ages have
thought it necessary to protect the sacred temple
of life; and when we rtflect on the number and
violence of the temptations which beset the uncon-
trolled passions of men, the love of gain, the thou-
sand frauds, and plots, and intrigues to which our
complicated social machinery gives rise—anger,
jealousy, revenge, and all their attendant motives,
we shall hesitate to remove the warning influence
of a public death. At least not at a time when the
whole tendency of society is too much in favour of
extenuating the crime, when the rigid rules of right
and wrong are too likely to be forgotten in the desire
to apologise or atone for the transgressor, No one
can read of MuLLER's last moments without pro-
found compassion for the man, and a deep sense of
his awful position ; but we must not forget that his
own guilt brought him to that appalling situation.
We must not forget that he has made a happy home
desolate, has sent a good and honourable man to a
death more violent and more hurried than his own,
and that to the natural regret for the loss of
a friend and relative he has added the terrible
shock of so sudden and so dreadful a catastrophe.
He has gone with his sins to a higher tribunal, and
the one feeling of all Christian men will be a hope
that he may there be found worthy of mercy; but
in our narrow and shortsighted sphera it behoves
us to remember that the command to respect life
comes from a higher authority than our own, and
while we hesitate about condemning a guilty man,
there is no doubt that the criminal infringes the
laws of heaven as well as of earth, when he
trenches on the command, " Thou shalt do no
murder."

The uninitiated in such matters would be sur-
prised if they were to find out all the lets and hind-
rances that are put in the way of the poor, when
struggling to gain their daily bread. It would
seem as if the laws and enactments of this country,
so perfect in many respects, and so admirably
adapted for the people they appertain to, had a par-
ticular exception in regard to the clauses which
affect destitution. Well might Lord STANLEY say
the other day, that to pauperise a man i❑ England
was to degrade him. It needed not one, of the noble
lord's observation and experience, to detect this
flaw in our social system, and this glaring evil that
lurks among our laws and statutes. The case of
Mr. BAUYARD, at Cambridge, is one which is most
extraordinary, and aptly represents the anomalies
that are continually presenting themselves in our
poor-law arrangements. A man named PARKER
had worked for him in his manufactory, and when
he died Mr. BAIIYARD naturally felt an interest in
his family. He met the widow accidentally, and
she then informed him that she was desirous of pro-
ceeding to Leeds, where she had Erie de. To enable