g, that "murder will out."
True it is, that Providence hath so ordained, and doth so govern things,
that those who break the great law of Heaven by shedding man's blood
seldom succeed in avoiding discovery. Especially, in a case exciting so
much attention as this, discovery must come, and will come, sooner or
later. A thousand eyes turn at once to explore every man, every thing,
every circumstance, connected with the time and place; a thousand ears
catch every whisper; a thousand excited minds intensely dwell on the
scene, shedding all their light, and ready to kindle the slightest
circumstance into a blaze of discovery. Meantime the guilty soul cannot
keep its own secret. It is false to itself; or rather it feels an
irresistible impulse of conscience to be true to itself. It labors under
its guilty possession, and knows not what to do with it. The human heart
was not made for the residence of such an inhabitant. It finds itself
preyed on by a torment, which it dares not acknowledge to God or man. A
vulture is devouring it, and it can ask no sympathy or assistance,
either from heaven or earth. The secret which the murderer possesses
soon comes to possess him; and, like the evil spirits of which we read,
it overcomes him, and leads him whithersoever it will. He feels it
beating at his heart, rising to his throat, and demanding disclosure. He
thinks the whole world sees it in his face, reads it in his eyes, and
almost hears its workings in the very silence of his thoughts. It has
become his master. It betrays his discretion, it breaks down his
courage, it conquers his prudence. When suspicions from without begin to
embarrass him, and the net of circumstance to entangle him, the fatal
secret struggles with still greater violence to burst forth. It must be
confessed, it will be confessed; there is no refuge from confession but
suicide, and suicide is confession.

Much has been said, on this occasion, of the excitement which has
existed, and still exists, and of the extraordinary measures taken to
discover and punish the guilty. No doubt there has been, and is, much
excitement, and strange indeed it would be had it been otherwise. Should
not all the peaceable and well-disposed naturally feel concerned, and
naturally exert themselves to bring to punishment the authors of this
secret assassination? Was it a thing to be slept upon or forgotten? Did
you, Gentlemen, sleep quite as quietly in your beds after this murder as
before?