The Sun. — London, England, 1828-08-11 00:00:00

any other Councils, upon this occasion. We should rather say, with Churchill, that " The heart waa honest, but the bead was weak." But then comes the question—why are weak heads allowed to deal with matters of so much moment to individuals and the community? If a man dies of a fever, of which, by proper care, he might have been cured, it is-but a poor consolation to say that his apothecary was a simpleton; and if a In'ace of Justices ruin a man for want of knowing their duty better, it is but a sorry satisfaction to the trades man, who may perhaps be 'ending his days in a pri son, that his fate is only owing to an error in judg ment. It is curious to observe the pains which are taken to give the most confined and circumscribed interpretation and application to an Art which, it is clear, ought to receive the most liberal and extensive one : for, in the first place, the object is manifestly a most wise and salutary one, as far as the public are concerned ; while, secondly, towards indi v id ua l s i t is merely an act of common justice. That such ob jects are to be frustrated, a s We now see them, is a great crying evil : but one which, like some others . when forced into an extreme, will, in the end, work its own cure; lee, surely, if any thing were wanting to induce the Legislature to take from such hands power so much abused, it must be the insulting tone towards itself with which these proofs of Ma gisterial justice arid wisdom are accompanied. (FROn THE MORNING cHEONICLE.) 'We believe we are not, singular in wishing that our judges, in passing sentence of death on criminals, would confine themselves as much as possible to the affairs of this world; for it would be no easy matter to say whether they, or the Methodists, who tell us of the blessed state of mind into which they have brought the prisoners in the interval between the sentence end its execution, do most to demoralize the people. If the expectation of punishment here. after be a doctrine calculated to promote upright conduct here, we aught to be extremely cautious how we hold out to such criminals as murderers the hope of their salvation by their repentance. The Judges, however, act es if they deemed it a part of their duty to say all the fine things they can think of to persuade the criminal that the gallows will be but a step in the ascent to Heaven. They do not seem , to be in the least aware that they are exercising their humanity at the expence of the morals of so ciety. It never can be the interest of society that the horrors of the situation of the. murderer, Or any other criminal who forfeits his life to the law, should he mitigated by a mawkish sympathy. We cannot, by anything we can do here, change the doom either for better or worse of the man entering on another stage of being; and the hopes held out by the Judge cannot, any more than his denunciations, affect the , :iminal's fate. But the consequence, to the 'crimi nal himself is not the question; but the consequence to the hundreds of thousands who read what falls from the Judge, and who may have their dread of (-rime shaken by the idea that repentance is never too late. " You sent (said the Lord Chief Baron, in addressing himself to William Corder)—you sent this unfortunate woman to her account, without giving her any time for preparation. She had no time to turn her eyes to the Throne of Grace for mercy and forgiveness; she bad no time given her to repent of her many transgressions; she had no time to throw herself on her knees, and to implore for pardon at the Eternal Throne. The same tmasure is not meted out to you; a small interval is allowed you for preparation. Use it well, for the scene of the world closes upon you ; hut another, and I elope a better world, is opening for you. Remember the lessons of religion which you received in the early years of your childhood ; con sider the effects that may be produced by a sincere repent ance ; listen to the advice of the Ministers of your religion, who will, I trust, console and advise you how best to meet the sharp ordeal which you must presently undergo." His Lordship evidently believes that the pro spects of Corder are much better than those of the woman he murdered, and that the day or two at most of preparation allowed him give him a great advantage over his unfortunate victim. What an idea of the Almighty is here conveyed in the sup position that allowance will not be made for the cir cumstances wider which this poor young woman was hurried out of the world, and that the brief and questionable repentance of an individual placed in a situation in which he can do nothing else, gives him a better prospect of future happiness. It is for the interest of society that not a ray of hope should-be held out to those men whose lives are forfeited to justice on account of atrocious crimes. The Judge has nothing to do with the feelings or the prospects of the criminal; he acts for the good of the community, whose organ he is. As far as the future fate of the individual is concerned, as we have already observed, his compassion and his severity are equally unimportant. It is, there fore, a pure piece of supererogation. He is not called on, like a, Catholic Priest, to give him a pass port with his extreme unction. All Divines have not gone the length of declaring that the repent ance of a man under sentence of death for crime shall be unavailing; but most, we believe, have thought the chalice of salvation, under such circum stances, so slight that, for the benefit of the com munity, it should be looked on as to amount almost to nothing. The Swedenborgians have, however. laid it down positively, that repentance under a sen tence of death is unavailing. " Repentance," it is said, in " Heavenly Doctrine, " article 124, " availeth, if the penitent person he in a state of liberty; but if he repenteth in a state of compulsion, it is of no avail. States of compulsion may be va rious, such as sickness, dejection of spirit under some great misfortune, the terrors of approaching death, and, likewise, all circumstances of sudden fear which deprive a man of reason. When bad men in a state of compulsion make promises of repent ance, and even begin the practice of virtue and goodness, they generally return to their former evil Jives when they are restored to a state of liberty.. but it is otherwise with the good." This view of repentance is evidently much more conducive to the good of society than that of the Lord Chief Baron. It is fur the Great Searcher of Hearts to determine what repentance is and what is not .sincere; but it is dangerous for man to affect a liberality which may tempt his fellows to their perdition. (FROM THE MOANING ADVERTISER.) For the designs of Russia and Austria, nothing could have been snore opportune than the death of Mr. Canning; for he alone, .not of Englaml merely, but of ail Europe, inspired a wholesome fear into those ambitious Cabinets. . Of the views of the former power, the world is in general well in formed; those of the crafty Metternich are less accessible. Th e position. of Austria- is, at the present motnent, one of peculiar interest, if not of insecurity; but there need be little .d ou b t that she will extricate herself, though-, it be at _ the expense both of honour and of Austria h as b een , for some time past, rutting. forth h er f ee l ers , an d i n di ca ting a - determination rather to share in the spoil than to risk hzrse lf as an ally. At the present moment she seems to be co quetting between France and Russia; and anxiously meditating whose enmity it is safest to Ulm . , or how it is possible to reconcile the acquiescence of both with her own pretensions. The next heir to the King of Sardinia,. in the legitimate order,. is, the Prince de Carignan, and his Majesty is not expected to be a long occupant of an earthly throne. But a , t h e Prince has shown some inclination for liberal institutions, Prince Metternich has disco vered that he is not eligible to the succession, because his mother wa s not of Royal blo o d. Th e Duke of Modena, therefore, nephew we believe, of the Emperor of Austria, has been proposed to the doting Sardinian M onarch for his adopti on , an d, it is conjectured, secret l y a g reed upon by treaty. The acquisition of Genoa, Savoy, -and. Pied Mont, with the line of coast, and the command o f the Gulf of Genoa, would be an advantageous round ing of the Austrian dominions in It al y , and both plant her upon the south-eastern part of Fran ce , and close to the latter the entrance into Italy. The French Government, it appears, has dis covered the intrigue in time; and - should Che Austrian Cabinet be compelled, or find it ex pedient, to abandon this ..enterprise, she may fall into the scheMes , of Russia upon Turkey, and take as her own indemnity Bosnia, Servia, and DalmaCia, which, stretching along the Gulf of Venice, are pos sessions of - the great es t i mportance to her, more especially the last; while should France at the same time take possession of the Morea, and Russia of Constantinople, it will want but little to seal the Mediterranean to the commerce of England. But Austrian policy rests not here; we have to com municate a project, which if not actually wronged, is at least going the round in high quarters. Since the imbecility and incapacity of Don Miguel have become notorious (his crimes might have been perhaps pardoned), it has been suggested that . Donna Maria, Q u een of Portugal, a n d daughter of Don Pedro, should be given to young Napoleon, Duke of Reichstadt. 11 is hnown that the Emperor of Austria is anxious to provide him an appanage, and he stands in the relation of gvandfather both to the young Quecu and to the Prince. Don Pedro, it is added, will embrace the offer with joy, having declared his determination to dissolve the contract between his daughter and Don Miguel.-- [low far this scheme may suit the interests of Eng land and France, we shall. not now stop to inquire. We give it as entitled to attention, and as engaging the notice of the diplomatic circles at the present moment. What cannot fail, however, to arrest at tention) in all these projects for apportioning, or dismembering, kingdoms and states, is, that Prince Metternich seems to reckon so confidently on his friend and pupil the Eared Aberdeen, our Foreign Secretary, and on Field-Marshal his Grace of the Treasury, that poor old England is neither invited to share in the feast, or invited to be present at the wedding. SUNDAY PAPERS. (FROM TH E NEWS.) THE WAR or MOD Al FOLIC] OF THE ENGLISH UOVERNMENT. " Be not•too tame neither." " All France," says the Constitutionnel," sympa thises " - in the objects of the expedition to the Morea; and nothing seems so well to suit with "all France," as the prospect of warlike exertion; and an oppor tunity to snarl with England. The French papers of the last eight or ten days, have kept up a regular running fire against us ; and have now transferred the whole force of their satire against the Duke of Wellington and the Government. " The Duke of Wellington," saym the Journal des Debats, " an nounces to the English expectations in the month of February ; and at the end of July he mourns over realities." We can afford to quiz our Ministers with the most thorough-bred Bourbonite, or Bonapartist, in Paris ; and yet feel ourselves at liberty to trace that deep-rooted hatred to England, and every thing English, which is so natural and so national in a Frenchman. It is not the proper occupation of any thorough Frenchman to ridicule the Noble Duke for being . a bungling Legislator; because his blunders (ira Foreign politics at least), must be the food of Gallic glory. It is impossible not to place some of this spleen to the account of the recollections of Waterloo; and the Duke's unpardonable stupidity in not knowing when he vas scientcally beaten. France however is now pushing us ; and bearding Our spirit. But she ought to know that the present Cabinet is no representative of the English people; nor the House that upholds that Cabinet; and further that it is not with Englishmen any pecu liar recommendation of a British Prime Minister that he is a favourite of Bourbon Legitimates. Before the Parisians make so free with John Bull, on account of the imbecility of his rulers, let .them look at home. We should not be found discussing the merits of an Opera Dancer, when an invading enemy was within six hours' march of the Tower of London. If we could beat France with such a military genius as Bonaparte at the head of her armies, it is time enough at present to scamper away in bare apprehension before such a Pantaloon as Charles X. with a brace of Searamnnehes like Ferdinand and Don Miguel in his train,—even though un•''English Minister should become their Motley. Whenever any decisive period shall arrive, in the exigency of events, that calls England to her post, it is not the blundering perversity of her Minis ters; nor her load of debt and taxation; nor the suicidal policy of her Aristocracy,—that will prevent the nation -from righting itself;—whatever mis shapen and monstrous alliances may grow out of the present strange positions. We say strange, because a period has never before occurred in Europe in which it was deemed expedient for the principal powers to remain a sort of quiet spectators of the advance of Russia on projects which would tend to render her a formidable naval State ; and give weight and con sistency to a new power in the East. It is said that our quiescence has gone so far as to offer British ships for the conveyance of the French troops to the Morea I This expedition will amount to a declara tion of war, by France against Turkey; and to the same in England, if we interfered. Turkey will at the same time be invaded from the East, the West, and the South (the army of Persia.) This certainly shows that our Ministers have great confidence in the conduct of France at least,—if not of Russia. We hear of nothing but professions of the most immoderate moderation on all sides, if we may so speak. That most unpretending of Sove reigns, the Emperor Nicholas, who at present holds in iron bondage not more than one-eighth of the en- tire globe, was gracious enough to await the sub siding of the floods of the Danube, before he crossed that stream; and he has now foregone his rights as a Belligerent, in a sea where he has not a single sea port; and into which he cannot steer a ship, but by the permission of England ; and this is all done on the modest and ultra-monarchical plea of modern lion! Acting up to this principle, when Nicholas has captured Constantinople, he cannot do less than transform his visit into one of pure friendship; ter minate the war by giving a dinner and a gala day to the Grand Sultan and his Harem of Ladies; and in sist on paying the shot, with the whole expences of the contest on both sides. So much for creeping.— Nations, like men, make their way, it seems at times on their bellies. We have been puzzled to under stand in what light our Ministers have viewed all this—suspicious movement, to say the least of it; and we have looked into the councils of the Welling ton press for a hint or two thereon. The English Mi nistry say (for We will so put it) that France and Germany must be "primarily" affected by the ag grandisement of Russia; and therefore it is time enough for England to take the alarm when others do, who are more immediately interested. We answer this, by saying that both France and Austria are iii fact . preparing for any turn which events may take. "Austria is putting her army on the full war establishment; and the congeoaence will be, that she Will claim a portion of the spill of Turkey that lies convenient and adjacent, as a balance to any great advantage s taken by Russia; while France, which has long been keeping an eye on the Morea and Egypt,.....being once on the spot, with an army, will take care of herself. All this is cut out, before our eyes; and when the eelaireissement Comes, it will be too late for England to interfere ; which-sce ne can only do by throu g h our Col O nie S challenging all the, ()trier thre e part i es. We shall then be told by th e bo ld trio that we h ave too muc h power, "march out of th e Me , already; throughaand dit er ranean." Here, al: Eastern" i nstea d of a tha o t ur w N e a m vy us , a t i nl . " Northern confederacy may be formed against us. Let not England lay the " unction ' to her m i n d, that the objects of that co n ' h ' to ever been wholly given up. In'a triple alliance like the one Russia, France, and Austria, named, viz. between . we have one nation almost without sea-ports, and another quite. To Russia, some. outlet for her power in the south and east has become indispen sable. Nothing can be more intelligib le and easy, that the obviou s in t eres t w hi c h th e se powers have in cammon is, in shutting England out of the Mediter- * The French Papers of the day, previous to the entrance of the Allies into Paris, were entirely absorbed in a discus sion. on the merits of a ballet. • ranean ; and thus at once' dosing the continent of Europe upon us at 'their pleasure. There arc now more available niaterials for such a league, than there ever were for effecting a similar pnipose in the north though an object of far less importance to Eng land; because, through the, Mediterranean, our. power in India may be shaken. We cannot then concede the position claiMed by the Minister's echo, that France and Austria will be "primarily " affect ed by the increased power 'of Russia•in Southern Europe; Austria can be- bought off' at any mo ment, with the mere candle-ends - of such a pro ject; and it would 'be the interest of France to see the power of England crippled by any nation whatever, though she did not advance a single step; because her power would be relatively promoted, in a most incalculable degree. This is the ground which we take against the existing policy of England, in conniving at a sly advance to naval power in Russia ; which, when once made good on the Bos phorus—it will be no more within our means to stem the torrent of the new influence that will set in against us from the east, than it were to seize on Mont le Blanc, and placing its peak in the Darda nelles, fill up an arm or the sea, and block the Rus sian Empire by a new land boundary. We will suppose that our Ministers are not without some apprehensions on the points which we have mooted ; for that would be almost impossible, " Seeing what we have seen—see what we see." _ _ The question is, what retaliatory course could be taken by England under the present circumstances ? We answer, " by preparing at home, for any neces sity of great exertion that may arise ; by economising on one side of the Irish Channel ; and emancipating on the other." If Russia take Turkey, let England take Ireland ; and the balance will not be irre mediably impaired. .Beyond this,—we have as much right to send an army against one Pacha in Africa, as France has against another in Europe. We must have • Egypt. It is the only way by which -we can be -thoroughly indemnified for the occupation of the Bosphorus and the Darda nelles by Russia; for there is no practical dif ference between the ,free passage of that strait, and the occupation; Nicholas might as well claim a free passage up the Thames, to land Russian Tal low and Timber. The claim can never be granted in any Trealy,—unless the Grand Sultan should happen to take as much laudanum as would close the hundred eyes If Aigus. Constantinople must lie in ashes, before the Russian Fleets can claim a right of anchorage under the walls of the Seraglio. The Bosphorus is as much an integral part of the domi nion of the Turk, as the Narva is of the Russian. If the Muscovite happened to be born on the wrong side of the Strait,—it is no fault of the follower of Mahomet. Chalice and fortune have given him both shores—Asiatic and European ;* there is " no an cient right of road," as the Lawyers would say, "be tween them; all the transit there is, is on suffer ance ;" for the waters of the Bosphorus arc but as a lake, separating one part of the Ottoman capital from the other, like London and Southwark. " You do take my life, when you do take The means by which I live." _ The Emperor Nicholas has made no very specific declaration of that which he claims from Turkey; he is, we suppose, to proclaim that froin the smote walls of Constantinople; and we shall then get the key to all the leading intentions in this war of moderation,—as it will beyond all doubt be named in future history. (FROM THE SUNDAY HERALD.) We perceive, by an advertisement in another part of our paper, that TUE SUN Newspaper has, in addition to its former annual donation of Fifty Gui neas to the Licensed Victuallers' Asylum, made an other of equal amount to the Licensed Victuallers' School, in Kennington-lane. Such generous con duct on the part of the Proprietors of that Paper will not, we feel assured, be lost on the Licensed Victuallers of the Metropolis, who, of all others, have it most in their power to make a suitable ac knowledgment, and whose uniform liberality and gra tiritcla give every reason to balievo that they will not be found wanting in doing so. The numerous attestations in another part of our Paper of the manner in which THE SUN is conducted, render it wholly unnecessary for us to add our humble testi mony to merits so universally acknowledged. In another part of our Paper will be found the decision of the Magistrates, yesterday, at Bow street, respecting a licence to Ihe Strand Hotel.— Of the house itself, or of its occupant, we know nothing. It may, or it may not, be entitled to a licence ; and we do not therefore call in question the decision of the Magistrates; but we cannot pass wholly unnoticed the extraordinary conduct of Sir Richard Birnie upon the occasion. A few days ago he declared that the clause in the Hotel-keepers' Act, "If they shall see fit," empowered the Ma gistrates either to grant, Or not to grant, a licence, as they might deem expedient; yesterday he is re ported to have declared that in such a case as the Strand hotel—the very case, by the bye, to which his former declaration had reference--the Magistrates " were compelled to grant the licence of the appli cant, and had no choice." Nay, more; his Worship declared that unless something could be alleged against " the good conduct of a house," it was justly entitled to a licence; while, on the former day, he stated that the character of the applicant and the conduct of the house had nothing whatever to do with the matter—that the whole affair rested with the discretion of the Magistrates, and that against this discretion there was no appeal. We should like to know what has produced such an extraordi nary change in the opinions of the Chief Magistrate at Bow-street. Surely the Bishop of Winchester has not convinced him of " the error of his ways !" —ln the City these matters have been better ma naged. All the licences have been, and most justly, refused, with the exception of one for the Portugal hotel; and the Magistrates at Bow-street would have done better, we think, had they imitated their example, instead of striking out a path for them selves, which is neither consistent with their former declarations, or with the rights of a large body of his Majesty's subjects, which it never was the intention of the Legislature to invade. (FROM THE SPECTATOR.) MANUFACTURERS OF MURDER.—Every day, say the Newspapers, adds something to the fcatful in terest of Cerder'Scase. A wen has been identified on the neck of the corpus delieti! The officer Lea has produced a dirk, which has been compared with " the puncture of the heart, the poloration of the skull, the fracture of the rib," It is unnecessary to say," adds the tragic scribe, inditing from Bury. .St. Edmund's, " that where in the Metropolis, so much anxiety prevails, that here it exists in a more that proportionate degree. The appetite for new facts is insatiable. Numerous engravings of the oc currences in and about the Red Barn, and portraits of Corder, are on sale in every book shop in town." This insatiable appetite does not want feeders. We are entertained with the most minute particulars re specting the person of the prisoner, his manners, habits, and .how he shakes hands with Mr. Lea, the officer, and what conversation ensues thereupon. Lea said—" Well, Mr. Corder, in consequence of the request you made of me when I last saw you, that I should call upon you on my return to Bury, I have accordingly done so, and I am- glad to see you so well."—Corder—" I am much obliged to you for your kindness (shaking hands with him most heartily); do you know that my trial is fixed for to-morrow ?" Lea—" So I have • heard, and that it will come on very early." Ceider—" believe so." The dialogue is continued at great length in the Journal from which we take this, and turns upon matters of similar importance. What gin -drinking is to the body, these murders and rumours of murders arc to the mind; and as the appetite in the former case grows with what it feeds on, so it is with the vulgar taste for crime. 'the newspapers are the drainshops; and the great and influential body of penny a-line men are the mann ,' Does the Emperor of Russia allow the Turk a free passage through the Straits of Zabech, into the Sea of Asoph facturers who supply the liquor medicated to a stb ! cient degree of stimulation. The practice of paying men according to the length and breadth of their " horrid particulars," gives a complexion to our reading that might well make a sober nation blush. The nucleus is a crime ordinary in its nature, but possessing great. capability in its circumstances : suspicion and report are added till a colourable atro city is attained; the ball then rapidly increases; horror accumulates, the column lengthens apace, the public pricks up its ears, and the poisonous draught is then poured in by sheets-full. Give these penny a-line men but the smallest fact, and they would, drive the first man of the country into exile or New gate. They are like Archimedes—all they want is a fulcrum to move the world. Sailors call long stories yarns: the true " yarn" is a horrid murder spun from the invention of a penny-a-line man. It is made for a halter ; and by the very name of a penny a-line, it is probably meant equivocally to intimate, that for a small coin they will fix the fatal cord on any man. It would be interesting to inspect the labours of one of these tragic authors. There is an old song of a drunken Irishman, who sings, " I have got tenpence, and I'll take it home to my wife." Ile has more liquor, and his treasure is reduced to eightpence ; he then sings, " I've got eightpence, and I'll take it home to my wife." Thirst, however, pre vails, and he sings and drinks until by degrees he has nethim , ' left to take home to his wife. The progress of a penny-a-line man is the converse of this—over his first draught of inspiration, he is des titute both of facts and pence; but as the porter "subsides, his invention mounts, and before the final exhaustion of his pot, he begins to hum, in a lowly strain, and his muse perhaps gives birth simply to a dreadful accident or a blunder in oxalics. But here are two lines;_ his spirit becomes animated, and his song rises : " I've got twopence—l've got two pence, and I'll take it home to my wife." This is a cheering reflection for a man with a starving family ; and in the time of the consumption of a further sup• ply of liquor, his pence have risen beyond the Irish man's tenpence. In this elevated state, the trage dian is equal to a murder, a horrid murder; and forthwith commences the mysterious drama with all its details of " a fearful interest." The public next morning read the tale as a relish for breakfast; and each day the penny-a-line man dines sumptuously on " additional particulars," until the professors of murder and rape, the editors of Sunday papers, take the affair into their own hands, aggravate the atro city, darken the suspicion, and blacken the horizon with woodcut; of barns and di•rty portraits both of the murderer and the murdered. Such is the history of crime in Great Britain, in this enlightened country. FliOM THE ATLAS. THE REPORTERS' ROMANCE.—Everybody knows that a person named William Corder, a small farmer in Suffolk, has been arraigned and tried on an in dictment for the murder of a woman, named Maria Martin, who had lived with him some time previ ously, and who had formerly been the companion of a gentleman. We speak in the language of the mo dern reporters, for it would be vulgar to call women of this class by their proper names. This William Corder, it appears, knew how to read and write, and that circumstance raising him above the ordisiary level of the people who usually commit murder in this civilized country, his case became immediately the signal for all the newspaper sympathies in the kingdom. Most fortunately for the gentlemen of the press, the name of the place where the murder was said to have been committed was eminently propitious for all the purposes of description—it was called the Red Barn ; and, still more delightful, the murder was said to have been traced through the agency of a dream ! It was too good an opportu nity to be lost, and accordingly all the bye-paths about the Red Barn became infested by draftsmen who went down " special" to take sketches of the scene of the dark deed. Mystery was heaped upon mystery—the gate of the cow-house suffered a long biography, and the rusty hinges of the barn-door were etched in eloquent paragraphs; from one cottage to another the reporters prowled about to pick up anec dotes, and there was not a tree in the fields upon which they did riot carve some fearful recollection. The scene was replete with horrors—the village was just such a one as would have been selected by Walter Scott for the scene of a romance; Maria Martin was metamorphosed into a Jeannie Deans, and William Corder was tinged with some of the daring virtues of Geordie Robertson. The As sizes approached, the little town of Bury St. Ed munds was invested with a tolbooth, and the ima gination of the historians of the Sessions Court ran riot upon the occasion. There was not a vestment of Corder's, from his neckcloth to his shoe-ties, that did not tindergo inquisition ; and if his wardrobe had • happened to be scanty, his necessities would have endured serious exposure. At the chapel in the gaol he happened to lean on the thumb of his right hand during the sermon, ashen out came the note books, and down went the statement. On leaving' the gaol he combed his hair over his forehead con trary to his usual custom of wearing it, d la porcu pine, but he could not escape the vigilance of his tormentors ; the inkhorns were out in a moment, and a careful memorandum made of the change in his locks. In short, the Corder annals for the last week would furnish an octavo volume; they far ex cel the Nealgate calendar, and out-chronicle the Chronic/6s of the Canongate. We congratulate our readers, and the country generally, oe this manifest improvement in the mode of reporting the proceed ings of the Courts of Justice. The dull matter-of fact brevity of former times is displaced by the ge nius of embellishment; murder is no longer a coarse, butcher-like proceeding; it assumes an air of roman tic interest—it becomes inspired with horrors of a higher grade—it is accompanied by beautifel traits of refinement. Besides, people are not murdered now as they used to be ; their brains are not knocked out by dirty hammers or sledge handles—they are elegantly stabbed in the lungs, or shot with gentle manly consideration through the head; they are never killed in dark lanes or nasty places, but in remote woods, or wild mountains, where characteristic sce nery assists the imagination of the elegant assassin. There is no such thing as dragging canals, or sending out police-officers to hunt for dead bodies ; no, the machinery of the drama must be supernatural ; a mysterious revelation conducts the distracted relative to the grave ; the night winds whistle as the earth is dug up--a thunder storm ensues---the light nings flash—the old ruins are illuminated, and the victim of credulity is discovered some feet deep in the clay. We are advancing rapidly to the millen nium—the Reporters' Romance will at last transfer all Mr. Newman's business to the Daily Papers While, however, all the rest of the wend is marching to this state of perfection, it is deplorable to reflect upon the primitive immobility of our Judges and our Juries; they cannot be touch e d by th e sensibi lity, or excited by the ardour of the press; they seem to remain in a condition of old-fashioned integrity; they have no regard for the intellectual ambition of the murderer--they seem to have no feeling in com mon with his lofty inspirations; and on .the present occasion, in spite of the descriptive labours of the newspapers, the Jury was so vulgarly English as to find him guilty of th e cr i me w i t h w hi c h h e was charged, bcause the eviderm happened to be quite clear upon the point, and the Chief Baron, riot in the least governed by the new code of sentiment, pronounced sentence of death in the old-fashioned • way, which must have been very shocking to the disciples of the new school. --- TILE CROPS, Sec.—Throughout Ayrshire the crops never were in a more thriving or promising state. In the whole line of road from Glasgow to Ayr, there is not a couple of acres of wheat laid down by the late rains, while the hay and potatoe crops have been immensely benefitted thereby. So luxuriant is the crop of eye-grass, that you may have 100 stones for a couple of pounds; and the potatoes are so plenty that they are selling on the ground at Bs. per boll.--EdiOurgh Courant. POLICE INTELLIGENCE. MANSION-HOUSE.—John Ki mix,. was charged; upon his own confession, with having been concerned in robbing the premises of Mr. York Hatton, of Bridge foot, London-bridge, Of property to the value of 1,0001. and upwards. Mr. Hatton is a watchmaker and jeweller, and carries on business at the foot of London-bridge. On Sunday three weeks, in the middle of the day, and during a heavy storm, the premises were entered (no person being left in charge of them) by means of picklock keys, and property to the amount mentioned stolen. It consisted of 150 watches, gold chains, seals, and other jewellery. No trace could be had to it, or to the robbers, until a few days since, when the prisoner at the bar confessed to an officer in the Borough that he was once of the party who robbed Mr. Hatton's house, that he received 100 guineas for his share of the plunder, and that the whole of the articles stolen had been safely shipped for Amsteidain. The prisoner now denied any knowledge of the robbery, and declared that all that he bad stated was said when he was drunk, and he had not the least recollection of it. A gentleman attended for Mr. Hatton, who stated that, in consequence of what the prisoner had revealed, Mr. Hat ton had gone to Maidstone, and expected there to get other information that would criminate the prisoner. Sir J. PERKING appeared to hesitate as to remanding the prisoner, no prosecutor appearing against him ; all that could be said was, that he had made a drunken con fession. Mr. Hobler (addressing the prisoner)—Do you deny having said what the officer states you (lid say regarding this robbery? Prisoner—Why, Sir, I cannot deny any thing ; for I was 80 drunk that I do not know what I might have said. I only know that I never had any thing to do with this robbery. The prisoner was told that he must be remanded, in order to inquire whether he had any thing to do with it or mot ; and with this intimation be appeared very well satisfied. He is a sailor-looking sort of man, and is not at all known to the officers as being connected with thieves. A lady waited on Sir JOHN PERRINO, and informed him that she had been one day during the week swindled out of a sovereign, under the following curious circum stances, and she wished the public to be put on their guard. The lady kept premises in the neighbourhood of Lime street, and a part of them were let out to a respectable gen tleman who was a wine-merchant, and when both himself and his clerks were absent she was in the habit of taking in his letters and parcels, and paying for them. On the 6th instant, there being no person in the eounting.house, she answered a ring at the bell, when a man, having the appearance of a porter, presented a bottle of patent ink, stating that he brought it from Messrs. W. and Thomas Morten, of Ludgate-street, and that he was to receive 3s. 6d. for it, and handed in a written receipt, purporting to be signed by Messrs. Morten. She, not doubting but it was all right, proceeded to pay him, but she had not got silver enough ; she therefore gave the fellow a sovereign, referring him to a tradesman in the neighbourhood to get change, and bring it back. The fellow took the sovereign and left her the bottle of blacking and receipt, but never snore returned. Sir Jour' PERRING could afford the applicant no redress ; but the fact being made known to the world might, perhaps, spoil the blacking gentleman's trade. The receipt is 6aaiywritten, and the orthography wretched indeed. MARYLEBONE.—Two servants, named Sarah and Mariha, who were in the service of Mr. W--, North Bank, Regent's Park, were charged under these circum stances :—Early in the morning Mrs. W. thought she heard the voice of a man in the house, and her husband being from home she went to Sarah's bed-room, but could not gain admittance. The voice of the man appeared to come from Sarah's room, and Mrs. W. thereupon called the watchman, but before he entered the house a man was seen to hasten across the garden, and escaped. Two im pressions were seen in Sarah's bed, and she did not deny having had a bed-fellow, but said it was Martha, and Martha confirmed that part of her statement. In Sarah's room, were, however, found wine glasses, which appeared to have been recently used, and fragments of plumb-cake, a man's silver watch was also found under her pillow, and a groom's coat and half a pair of brace's under the window. What rendered the case more important was, that the wine cellar had been broken open, and four bottles of Madeira, one of port, and one of currant wine, was gone. The girls brought forward a coachman, in the service of Colonel Packenham, who proved, that some days ago he called upon the girls and treated them with a bottle of wine, and some plumcake, and, being about to go to Ireland, he left his watch with Sarah as a keep-sake. The Magistrate did not consider it was a case for prosecu tion, and in discharging the girls, said he was sorry they had not been able to remove 'the 'strong suspicions -against them. George Francis, of 33, North Road, had given a man into custody for stealing a horse, and when the case was brought before Mr. HosiaNs, he refused to give e vid ence . . . "take this hook in your right hand," said Burridge, the officer. " I've no occasion to be sworn," said Francis. Mr. HOSKINS—You must be sworn.—" I won't be sworn," said Francis. ➢lr. HosKiNs--Then I shall lock you up. (To the Gaoler)—Take them both out and lock them up in sepa rate cells. The gaoler took Francis across the office, but he slipped away from him while he was opening the door, and running back to the witness-box. " I'll tell you what it is," said he to the Magistrate—" This man has took horses for me be fore to the knackers." Mr. Hosiuss—You'll get nothing by being obstinate— yo❑ must be sworn. Francis—This man is a poor man, and— Mr. HosraNs—l'll hear nothing until you are sworn. Francis at length submitted to the commands of the Magistrate rather than lose his liberty, and be stated that he entrusted the prisoner with a house to be sold for dog's ' meat, and he got tipsy, and either lost or purloined the money, he could not say which, and he wished to withdraw his charge. Mr. Ifasxms told him he acted foolishly in making a charged he did not'intend to support, and he discharged the prisoner. A domestic servant, named Wood was summoned to show cause why she detained ten 10/. Bank of England notes, and other property, fio►u the next akin of a person to whom she was about marrying, and who died suddenly in her company en the 27th July. She told the Magistrate the deceased gave the property to her before he died : but she was willing to submit the question to any disinterested person, and would abide by their decision. Mr. HOSKINS said he had no jurisdiction in the case, add recommended a friendly arrangement, which was set tled, and they left satisfied. • MARLBOROUGH-STREET. SWINDLING. On Saturday, a man, named Hopkinson, who, it appears, had resided at 22, and 23, Sussex-place, Regent's-park, and No. 2, Euston-grove, Euston-square; was charged with swindling. The prisoner was formerly private secretary to Mr. Serjeant Rough, when he was Chief Justice of Deme rara, and returned to England with-that gentleman. He had, however, lost the confidence of the Learned Serjeant, in consequence of the frauds laid to his charge. He ap. Pealed before the Magistrates in a black tiuit and green slippers. It appeared, that on Friday evening, a young woman, who had been seduced by the prisoner, was charged with having obtained some bonnets from Mr. Hopton, dh Oxford-street, en a note which purported to.be signed by Mr. Hopkinson, the banker, of Regent-street. Mr. Hop ton, however, abandoned the charge, thinking that the female had acted under the direction of the prisoner, and ehe promised not to return to him, but to her parents.., The prisoner was apprehended the lams evening, and it appeared that the female, immediately she was discharged by the Magistrate, had again thrown herself under the pri soner's protection. Mr. Green, proprietor of Will's Hotel, in Serle-street, Lincoln's Inn-fields, proved, that about three weeks ago, a servant dressed in splendid livery, brought him a note from Mr. Hopkinson, of Euston .grove, request. ing half-a-dozen of sherry, port, and brandy, to be sent to his house in Euston-grove ; on the following morning he would require two dozen more, and then he would pay the account. In his note he gave a reference to Sir Chailel Wetherell ; Mr. Green had been . unable to procure paY+ ment of his bill, amounting to 61. I 1 a., and it was disco vered that Sir C. Wetherell's name, and also the name of the Solicitor-General, bad been used on other similar oc casions. Mr. James Francis Wynne, of Great Portland_ street, saddler, produced a note, purporting to be written by Mr. Hopkinson of Trinity College, Cambridge, and giving Mr. Wynne an extensive order to tit up his stables, at 22, Sussex Mews, Regent's Park ; the groom told hi m that his master had taken No. :!*-?, in Sussex-place, ant was fitting it up in a magnificent style ; he sent in some goods, but having heard the prisoner's character he took them away again. Several other tradesmen said they could establish similar charges against the prisoner, and he was remanded for a week. LA Corresnondent states that this man's real name is Barrow; that he was examined about two years back for seducing a Clergyman's daughter in the neighbourhood of Lisson Grove, when he took her to the Sabloniere Hotel, Leicester-square, from thence to the Key in Chandos street, and left the poor unfortunate girl to pay the reckon ing:: His name also figured in the. Papers kbout twelve months ago, for driviug at A furious rate from the Sheriff.' officers, when stopped on a charge of swindling.] COUNTRY CORN MARKETS DURING LAST WEEK. 1 Wheat. Barley. Ter Quarter. s. to s. 59 C S. to s. 32 36 Oats. Carmarthen «.,,,.,,, 48 - Hex am 9 60 Morpe th Penrith Beans. 52 60 - 63 27 3:3 Sheffield 158 68 Winchester 157 68 30 33 777 27 30 35 27 30 Per Bushel. s. d. s. d. c. d. Coventry --. 7 3 8013 2 4 2 Newcastle (Staff:) ,9 6 10 0 0 0 0 0 Northallerton 6 0 7 0 4 0 4 3 Stafford !S 4 S 6 0 0 0 0 Swansea 79 93 40 46 Warwick -- I 4 80 39 43 Per 8011. Barnarcleastle —ll5 0 17 (1 9 0 0 0 Darlington — l l4 0 17 6 9 0 10 0 Durham 14 0 16 6 8 0 9 6 Wolsingham a 3 0 15 fi S 6 9 0 WAKEFIELD, Aug. 8: On Saturday last and on Sunday we had some quantity of rain, and also some heavy showers on Tuesday, since when the weather has been very fine. Our navigation having been under repair for some days, the arrivals are very small, but a fair quantity of Wheat is in the river, and which will be here this evening, samples of which are offering in the market to-day ; the fine weather has caused the Wheat trade to be very dull, the millers having bought very sparingly at a decline of Is. to 2s. per quarter upon all descriptions. Oats are dull at the rates of last week. Beans are without variation. Fine Pale Malt is rather dearer, but there is no improvement in other sorts. Many' farmers in this neighbourhood have commenced cutting Wheat, and harvest will be general next week. -The da. tnage occasioned by the rain in this quarter is only'tr' itling. Wheat, Rcd, Norfolk and Suffolk 525. to 575. tine fits. Lincolnshire s3s. to 575. fine 595. Yorkshire, &c s2s. to 565. fine 5Ss. White -- Foreign, Red sos. to 545. fine 575. Barley, Norfolk and Suftblk - Lincolnshire -s. to -s. fine -a. - Yorkshire Wold -s. to -s, fine -s. Beans, Tick 39s. to 425. fine 435. -- Small • 375. to 425. fine 435. Oats, Poland and Potato 22s. to 265. fine 28s. Friezland and Small. l9s. to 245. fine 255. - Pleating ltd. to 13 , ,,A. per Stone. Shelling...... 2Bs. to 31s. -s. to -s. per Load. Malt 37s. 41s. fine 435. per Load. Rapeseed 901. Os. 231. 03. 241. 10s. per Last. SCOTCH MARKETS. HADDINGTON CORN MA RKET.-Aug. 8. The Barley market continues to be very sparingly sup plied—nine quarters offered for sale, and sold at an ad vance of about 2s. 6d. on last average. • Oats found ready purchasers-113 quarters sold ; average up sd. No Nov Barley in market. A parcel of foreign Barley was offered at 3Ss., but did not sell. The business in the Wheat market was a good deal retarded by a heavy shower of rain. There was a large supply of Wheat; top price 2s• up, and average the same as last market to a fraction. Wheat. Barley. Oats. Pease. Beans. First (i2s Od 353 Od I 'Zits Ott I 32s Od 353 Od Second 533 Od 313 Od 26s td —s Od Od Third There were 389 qrs. of Wheat in market, 304 whereof were sold% 41 Unsold.-44 Grey. e 21. 13s. 1 A veragi 8-12thi DALKEITII CORN MARKET.—Aug. 7. The supply of Wheat at this day's market was large, and sold heavily ; top price the same as last days best, 635., current 585., inferior 523. Barley, best 36 54 current 325., inferior 295. ; Oats, best 285., current 2450. inferior 225. Pease and Beans from 30s. to 365. per qr. Wheat. Barley. Oats. ['ease. Beant., First 63, Od 33s Oil 2Ss Scl 36s Od 36s 1 1%i Second s6s Od 32s Od 21s Od I 33s Oil 33s Third s2s Od 30s Od 20s Od 30s Otl 30s CORNWALL. MARKETS. Tau 11.0.-Wh eat (average) 235. Oil.-Barley, Os. 6d.-Oats, HELSTON-Wheat, 21s. 4d.-Barley, 10s. 6d. ST. Ausrutt-Wheat, 17s. to 245.-Barley, lOs. to its -oab' Os. to Ins. 6d. BODMIN-Wheat ((average) (kl.-Barley, 10s. Od-Oats, 1 0 "' LA UNCESTON-Wheat (average) 21s. Od.-Barley, 10s. dd.-O"' 7 s. Od.-Beef, 6d.-Mutton, 6d. g. Lista:um-Wheat, 14s. 155. 6c1.-Barley, 6s. 6c1.--Oats, - to Os. 6d. Sr. COLUNIB-Wheat, 21s. to 225.-Barley, Os. to 10 5 .-nee f, - and Mutton, Sd to 50.-Veal and Lamb, Od to 6d. PENZANCE-Wheat, 20s. to 225.-Barley, Ils. to 12g.....005' Os. to lOs. Od.-Beef and Mutton, Sd. to 6d.-Pork, Od. to 4d."' Butter, Bd. per lb. - MINING INTELLIGENCE. Tons. Oct • 0 Quantity of Copper Ore sold at. Itedruth last Thursday 3,324 Average Produce igl • ft Quantity of fine Copper 275 Amount of Sale. 19,8534 Bs. 6.l.—Average Standard, 1031.55. 04' The palace of Malmaison, the favourite rest' Bence of Naror.EoN and JosEritrNe, and which after wards came into the possession of Prince BEA ouAariol' is to be sold in a few days by auction.— Han:burgh ReP Never, at any period of civilization, in any city in the world, were so many b oo k s pu bli s h e d as those whicu ," have issued from th e P ar i s p ress s i nce 1817. Th e Jes l l" s . have calculated that, adding together a ll th e e ditions 4! VOLTAIRE, each of which frequently amounted to betwee`:. two and three thousand copies, upwards of tw o m illions F. volumes of VOLTAIRE have been published in Paris within ten yearp.—Hamburgh Reporter. s. to s. 22 24 18 25 18 25 20 28 '2O 23 s, d. s. d. 34 40 39 42 2 3 2 6 40 42 30 36 30 43 70 76 60 80 59 76 ti 0 7 6 8. to S. 52 - 50 52 32 35 46 52 50 60 s. d. a. d. 49 58 76 80 o 5 6 00 80 . 00 00 50 54 0 0 11 0 96 10 6 10Q 1. 6 00 OA BIRTHS. On the Bth inst., in P o rtm an - s t ree t, Portman-squ— ire, the lady of James Lienry Crawford, Esq., of a son. f On the 9th inst., at Littl e t on , D orse t s hi re , t h e l a dY °f William Donaldson, Esq., of a daughter. On the 6th inst., at Harworth, in the county of Di r. ham, the lady of Captain Hort, of a son. On the 25th ult. the lady of James Annesley, E*(l. big Majesty's Consul at Barcelona, of a daughter. On the sth instant, at Hastings, the lady of John Greer', Esq. Royal Navy, of a son. On the 31st ult. at th e B e ac on , E xmou th, th e lady Of Lieut.-General Boye, of a son. MARRIED. On the 9th inst., at St. Gregory's, by the Rev. Thomas Harrison, Henry Dumas, Esq., of Fenchurch-street, t" Eliza, second daughter of Mr. Sowerby, of Doctors' Corn idons. --- On the 9th inst., at the church of St Mary Woolnoth; by the Rev. Dr. Birch, Alt' Charles Bailer, of-Birchin lane, London, to Harriet, third daughter of the .late Mr. John Corner, of Tufton-street, Westminster: • On the 9th inst., at St. Mark's, Kennington, Mr. George B. .14ilhind, of bd tvne ' s Wh ar f, to M ar y Ann, eldest daughter o f G e O rge C o l man, E sq., o f U pper Ken nington.greefl. - On the 7th inst., at Bexley, by the Very Rev. Arch deacon of Lincoln, Mr. George Willding, of Bexley, to Susan, youngest daughter of the late Mr. %early, of the same place. _ . On the 6th inst., at Wool, Dorset, by the• Rev. Henry Alvan, James Charmless Fyler, Esq., of Woodlands, Sur rey, to Mary Elizabeth, daughter of the late Andrew Bah), Esq., Lleffleton, Dorset. . • On the 6th instant, at Lewisham Church, by the Rev. E. Morgan, Mr. James Knight, sou of J. Knight, Esq. of Chelsea, to Miss Ann Pateman, seer nd daughter of Mr. Robert Pateman, of Medbottrn, Leicestershire. On the 6th instant, at Milton, near Christchurch, Haute , by the Rev. John Dampier, Rector of Co' dford St. Peter , Wilts, the Rev. Win. Jones, B.A. of Emmanuel Colleg e ' Cambridge, to Catherine, second daughter of the late Ed' ward Dampier, Esq. of Chewton Cottage. On the 6th instant, at Hampton Church, Mr. Joha Stanhope Taylor, of Upper Green, Kennington,' to _Mary, eldest daughter of Geo. Slade, Esq. of H a mpton Court. • On the sth instant, at St. Martin's Church, Mr. Job° At thur Goodge, u , Miss Jane, eldest daughter of Mr. W O ' Warren, of the same parish. On the 9th inst., at I%litcham, by the Rev. Richard Craniner, William Hen r y B arnar d , Esq., of Deptford , t° Elizabeth, second daughter of Mr. Weston, of Old Bon d " street: • DIED. On the 6th inst., at her residence at Peckham.rye, age d 64, Mrs. Mary Barber, widow, relict of Air. Samuel Bar' her, - late of Sweeting's-alley, Royal Exchange. On the 6th inst., at Clifton, Edmund Buttall Major in the East India Company's service, Bengal Eh"' blishtNent. On the 27th ult., at Interlacken, in Switzerland, Aler. ander James Mure, Esq., eldest son of James Mure,E 4 ' of Great George-street, Westminster. On the 7th inst., at Stanwell, Middlesex, in his 79° year, Joseph Cantwell, Esq. On the sth inst., the remains of George Allan,'E: e q;; late of Blackwell-grange, in the county of Durham , conveyed from St. Omer, where he died on the 21st J: to England, to be interred in the family vault. lie pi_ universally beloved and regretted, and the hearse ryas lowed by the English gentlemen resident at St. Omer)ace, On.the Bth inst., at his house, No. 2, Deth° l- P Camberwell, Mr: Samuel Collett, aged 74. Lately, at Sierra Leone, that enterprising tra, Major Denham. • PRINTED and PUBLISH ED by MURDO YOUNG, at the SUN OincE, 112, STRAND, LONDON* ( ~~h ~'~ mid l o t , tt • A , 11, 04 k Mei 01Q ti 44 414 WE' 'CH, With dia ls Attic *rem k Q t t -4up t , 414 1 a ti 11 0111,,. '011(