XXX 
A FEW MEMOIRS OF 
fortunate gentleman shot himself while in his room at 
the Stevens House, after withdrawing for a moment or 
two from the presence of Mr. Philip Hone Anthon, who 
had been in his company all the previous day and even¬ 
ing. The result was fatal. Two letters were found upon 
Herbert’s table. One was addressed to “ the coroner,” 
and the other to “the Press of the United,States.” They 
read as follows:— 
Monday, May 16,1858 (three months since the happiest day of my life.) 
To avoid all trouble, and simplify your duty, I have to state that 
I have taken my own life by a pistol shot, no one being privy to my 
doing it, or to my design. 
My reason for this act consists in no remorse for what I have 
done, or left undone; from no pecuniary pressure, from no inability, 
or fear of inability to support myself, from no weak fear of public 
opinion, least of all of New York, which I do now, as I always have 
done, utterly disregard and despise; from no embarrassment arising 
from any indebtedness. 
I have abundance of employment, and the prospect of much more 
—had the people of Newark, whom I forgive, from the bottom of my 
heart, suffered me to live honorably and happily in my humble home, 
and to amend my life where it was in error, in a new sphere, which I 
was honestly prepared to do, I might have paid off all my debts, and 
lived many years among you, an honest, useful, and happy man. My 
debts will be paid from my assets to the last dollar. 
It was not, however, so to be. My blood, and the guilt of it, is 
upon those women and men who first sowed suspicion, distrust and dis¬ 
sension between myself and the sweetest creature God ever gave, and 
man took away from an unhappy sinner. My own unhappy temper 
did the rest. 
The reason for this act, then, is simple. My life, long, sad, soli¬ 
tary and weary, and without an object beyond labor to earn a living 
for the day, has become utterly hopeless, hateful, and unendurable. A 
hope had been kindled in my heart again ; my home had got a light in 
it brighter than sunshine; my life had a purpose; I loved her un¬ 
utterably; I was immeasurably happy—all this has been dashed 
down—all is lost forever. Home—hope—sunshine, she —let life go 
likewise, since, henceforth, it is only another word for torture. 
