vulgarly called, Parson Colton, arrived in Paris
in the year 1825 or 1826, from America, to which country he sailed from
England shortly previous to the murder of Weare. He was at that time in
possession of very little money; this small stock he increased by
borrowing upon the security of some valuable jewellery which he took out
from his creditors in this country. With this sum he commenced his career
as player at the public gaming-tables in Paris, more particularly that at
154 in the Palais Royal. The system upon which he played was at once bold
and original, and attended with great success. I have good authority (his
own) for stating, he was at one period a winner of upwards of L10,000. He
subsequently lost nearly half this sum, and he expended the remainder in
paintings by the ancient masters, of which, in the year 1828, he had a
splendid collection. These pictures he intended for the English market;
but in the latter part of the same year, he became unfortunate at the
gambling tables, and they were parted with by degress, the proceeds lost,
and their late owner, in a short time, reduced to beggary, or nearly so.
His last literary labour, if it is worthy of the name, was a history of
the Three Days of July, published by Galignani.

In person, Mr. Colton was ungainly; he stooped much, his gait was slovenly,
and his dress mean and dirty; the reason he assigned for not removing the
dirt that accumulated on the lower part of his trousers and upon his boots,
was that none but shoeblacks looked below the knee in so dirty a city as
Paris. As if fond of contradiction, he wore at the same time a ridiculous
superfluity of jewellery; his unwashed hands were adorned with rings, and
his shirt, which probably had not visited his _blanchisseuse_ for a
fortnight, was garnished with numerous brooches and pins of considerable
value. A heavy gold chain secured his watch in his waistcoat pocket, and
he carried two massive gold boxes, one for snuff, though he took none
himself, and the other for tobacco. His face was pale and emaciated, the
cheek bones being remarkably prominent; his left arm was considerably
contracted, as he was fond of saying, from a pistol wound received in a
duel. His habits were low; when not at the gaming house, he was to be
found in one of the lower English houses, smoking and drinking,
entertaining his pot companions, and acting what is vulgarly called, the
"king of the company." He possessed a fund of anecdote a