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TRIAL OF JOHN W. WEBSTER. 267
yourselves in his position. You cannot comprehend his schemes and
projects.
We always hear of the folly of a criminal. It is very rare that a
great crime is committed without prompting such remarks as, "that he
would not have been fool enough to act so unwisely, so indiscreetly." It
is not in the order of Divine Providence, that a man engaged in a criminal
enterprise shali retain the full possession of those faculties which were
given him to be used in the work and the ways of virtue. And the
course he takes may be, to the intelligence of the merest child, the
extremest folly, when in his own mind it is the height of adroitness and
art. Crime is foolish; it has always been so, from the beginning; it will
always be so, until the end. It is as true now as it ever was, that "guilt
bedarkens and confounds the mind of man,"-that "human will, of God
abandoned, in its web of snares strangles its own intent."
One further suggestion, arising out of the p-.,oof in this case, may
impress your minds, as it has my own. If a mail has an object which
he wishes to get rid of, the possession of which is fatal to him or rather
the world's knowledge of the possession of which would be fatal to him,
what is the most obvious thing that occurs to him, as the instrument and
agency of destruction?-Fire! fire!-for that reduces the organized struc-
ture to a mass of undistinguishable ashes.
Mr. Foreman, suppose, to-day, a person should intrust to your keep-
ing the simplest thing, with an injunction upon you, that your possession
of it must not be known to any human being; informing you that the dis-
covery of it in your possession would be ruinous and fatal, involving
your reputation, your liberty, your life. Now, ask yourself, in what
manner you would endeavor to dispose of it, so that all trace of your
connection with it might be beyond the reach of human discovery. You
might have an opportunity to bury it. Still, the fear would arise that
some person might exhume it. You must get rid of it. "And yet," you
say, "if I leave any trace of it, I am not secure,-I am not safe. If I
throw it into the sea, that sea may give it up again; its relics may come
up at some future time to confront me; and it may be traced to me. But
will it burn? If l can destroy it by fire, I shall be secure."
It is not the possession of the thing, but the terrible consequences
that will follow from the world's knowledge of that possession, that ren-
ders its destruction so difficult and perplexing to him upon wom those
consequences will be visited. A narrow line, marked out upon a level
floor, may be confidently traversed by a child, without an inclination to
either side. But broaden that pathway ten-fold, and let it stretch across
a chasm, and the man of the firmest nerves and the most practised self-
command would shrink from crossing it. Who does not shudder at the
attempt to
-"O'erwalk a current roaring loud,
On the unsteadfast footing of a spear"?
And so with this learned Professor! For his intellectual self-discipline
makes his no exception to the common lot. When he had that body to
dispose of, he had two things to do: one, to destroy the body, and all
things
pertaining Dr. Parkman, whether of his remains or his effects; and the
second, to avoid and avert suspicion. He was to keep up his natural
and customary deportment. He was not to seem embarrassed anywhere.
He .was not be caught anywhere, or at any moment, off his guard. If a
person spoke to him in relation to Dr. Parkman, he was to be in a condi-
tion to meet the subject with calmness and self-possession. He was to
maintain that external demeanor which would enable him to go to Pro-
fessor Treadwell's and sit down and converse upon indifferent topics in
his usual manner. And he was to make it appear that he was at Cam-
bridge at times inconsistent with the destruction of that body at the
College.
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