HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT. 
xxxi 
I would not deny falsely one fault of which I am conscious, espe¬ 
cially at this last moment—I would not deny that I erred towards her 
whom this day shows that I loved more than life. I did err, but it 
was hastily. In any act or rash word, never, so may God deal with 
me, in thought or intimation. I never had one word with her about 
money matters, nor cared—scarcely knew whether she had or had 
not money. I never laid a hand or finger on her in wrath in my life. 
What I said or did wrongly, I repented on the instant—I have en¬ 
deavored to atone for it ever since—I die for it this day. I think, I 
hope I deserve pity more than blame, but I know that I shall not find 
it, least of all in Newark. 
I can say truly, with my last breath, I never wronged man or 
woman in my life by premeditation, or failed to ask pardon, or to make 
atonement when I could do so. I never bore malice in my life. I 
repent of all my faults and sins, and have endeavored to amend them. 
I die in perfect peace and charity with all men. I ask forgiveness 
of all those against whom I have sinned. I forgive all those who have 
sinned against me, even the woman who called at my own house, and 
set my wife’s thoughts first against me—in proof of it I am sure I 
know her, yet do not name her name. I beg God to forgive me, as I 
forgive all my enemies. I die in perfect faith and trust in my Re¬ 
deemer, and believe in him I shall have eternal life. 
Henry William Herbert. 
To the Press of the United States: 
Before going to my account, I would say a few words to the Press 
of America, and to its conductors, as to men among whom I have, for 
many years, been more or less associated. 
I have my faults, my failings : I have done my share of evil, in my 
life, as all men have done; perhaps I have done my share of good, 
likewise. 
Of my private history few men know any thing—fewer still know 
much—no one knows the whole. It cannot concern the public to 
know any thing. As a writer let me be judged—as a man let my 
God judge me. 
I implore not praise, nor a favorable construction—I implore 
silence. For what I have to account with God. let me account with 
God, and not with man; who may uncertainly perceive and distin- 
