The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1825-12-27 00:00:00

FONT HILL ABBEY.

We cannot but regret having to announce the demoli-
tion in great part of this most magnificent fabric, which
has been so universally and deservedly admired. On
Wednesday afternoon, about half-past three o'clock, the
tower, which rose to the height of RIO feet from the centre
of the building, fell with a most tremendous crash, break-
ing through a great portion of the roof of the Abbey, and
instantaneously presenting an immense mass of ruins.
Most fortunately no lives were lost. The tower, it ap-
pears, was of too slight a construction, and from certain
indications, its fall had been expected for se-eral days
previous to its actual occurrence. It declined in its
descent a little to the south-west, and fell into the
fountsin court, destroying the hall, the whole of tl.e
octagon, and great part of the galleries, north and
south, together with the first crimson room, leaving the
grand entrance standing, with the organ in it, and the
statue of the lee Alderman Beckford. Mr. Farquhar was
in the large cast wing of the building at the time of the
disaster, and it is said that he was not much alarmed, as
he had expected it. Seven servants were also at the time
engaged, by his orders, in taking out the painted windows
of St. Michael's gallery, and they all escaped unhurt ; one
servant boy, however, was considerably injured. A great
quantity of plate is still buried in the tnass of ruins.—
Salisbury Journal.

On AVednestlay afternoon the inhabitants of Fonthill
Abbey were alarmed by a most tremendous crash, which
seemed like nothing more nor less than the sudden crushing
into ruins of th, whole .building. Their terror was how-
ever soon abated by finding that the lofty tower had fallen,
and burst through that part of the building which nearly
adjoined it, without occasioning any personal injury what-
ever. It appears that the proprietor, Mr. Farquhar, had
strong apprehensions of this lamentable occurrence, and
had removed most of the costly embellishments to secure
them from the impending danger. The cause of this event
is not attributable to any fault of the architect, but to the
instability of the materials. It not being at first designed
to be raised to any thing near its height, the architect had,
of course, fixed the foundation proportionately; and vvlie:•
it was proposed to raise it to its remarkable elevation, the
building was too far advanced to allow of any adoption to
render the foundation sufficiently strong to support it;
and, in order to meet the wishes of the then proprietor,
IVilliam liecl•ford, Esq. in raising it to its noble and com-
manding height, and thereby add so greatly to the magni-
ficence of the whole, the architect was obliged to use wood
in its erection. 'But, alas! this was not of that quality to
render so beautiful a structure a lasting monument of the
taste of its designer, and, as a display of architectural
excellence, an honour to the country.—Bath Journal.

SEN7'ENCE ON THE C.-IPT4IN OF TILE• COMET.
We gave vesterday the turd of Captain Winne. and Peter
111`11ride. now pult:ish the verdict and sentence,

Verdict—The Jut; unanimously found Captain M'lnncs guilty
of culpable homicide. The pilot was acquitted.
When the Lord Advocate moved the sentence of the Court, Mr.
Cockburn said he intended to avail himself of his privilege of ap-
pealing to another Court against the present verdict. Upon what
grounds the Jury had convicted !Winne& of a most gross crime,
and in the same breath recommended him to the leniency of the
Court, he really could not see. "So help me God," said Mr.
Cockburn, " I do not in my heart know of what specific crime the
panel has been guilty." The Jury had returned a verdict of guilty
of culpable homicide. Was he found guilty of not having a tight,
when it had been proved that it was net ulna! to hare lights in
that part of the Clyde ? Or was It for being twelve minutes in the
cabin, when it would have been better to have been on deck ? Or
was it because a man at the bow committed an error, which led the
pilot wrong ? Or was it that the persons on deck had not kept •
sufficient look out ? In his own mind he could not settle whether
M`lnnes had ben convicted of one or of all of these acts; but he
really thought If crime it was, it must be the very veiriumem of
possible guilt; and therefore he thought the degree of punishment
could not be too nominal.

The Lord Advocate said that he considered a most unwarrant-
able attack had been made by Mr. Cockburn upon the Jury, who
had only discharged a painful but necessary and arduous duty—a
duty they were bound to perform. The Judge had also been ad.
ilre4:d in a tone very unusual, but he trusted that the Court would
exercise its discretion, and pass such a sentence as the circum-
stances of the case required.
The Judge Admiral, in reference to what had fallen from the
Counsel for the panels, had only to observe, that to far from not
wishing the case to be brought under review in a superior Court,
nothing would be more gratifying to his feelings. But that could
only be done by suspension; it was therefore essential that sen.
retire should be pronounced, anti the whole proceedings brought to
a conclusion. Ihe Yearned Judge then proceeded to pass sentence
upon 111•Innes. ordaining him to be imprisoned in the gaol of
Greenock for three calendar months. lie trusted that the cause
and result of that ::ay's conviction would be a warning to all ma.
tem and owners of steamboats, to induce them to take every step
in their power to rant the occurrence similar mislottunes.

THE BRITISH PRESS.

LITER.4Itr-GLE4NINGS.

No. LXXI.

MR. COLERIDGE'S FIRST OUTSET AS AN AUTUOP.
A learned and exemplary old clergyman, who many years
ago went to his reward, followed by the regrets and bles-
sings of his flock, published at his own expense two vo-
lumes octavo, entitled, a New Theory of Redemr lion.—
The work was most severely handled in the Monthly or
Critical Review, I forget which, and this unprovoked hos-
tility became the good old man's favourite topic of conver-
sation among his friends. Well ! (he used to exclaim) in
the second edition, 1 shall have an opportunity of exposing
both the ignorance and the malignity of the anonymous
critic. Two or three years however passed by without any
tidings from the bookseller' who had undertaken the print-
ing and publication of the work, and who was perfectly at
his ease, asthe author was known to be a man of large pro-
perty. At length the accounts were written for; and in
the course of a few weeks they were presented by the rider
for the house, in person. My old friend put on his spec-
tacles, and holding the scroll with no very firm hand,
began—Paper, so much : 0 modetate enough—not at all
beyond my expectation ! Printing, so much: well, mode-
rate enough ! Stitching, covers, advertisements, carriage,
&c so much.—Still nothing amiss. Selleridge (for ortho-
graphy is no necessary part of a bookseller's literary ac-
quirements), 31. 3s. bless me! only three guineas for the
what d'ie call it? the selleridge g No more, Sir! replied
the rider. Nay, but that is too moderate! rejoined my old
friend. Only three guineas for selling a 'thousand copies
of a work in two volumes? 0 Sir! (cries the young tra-
veller) you have mistaken the word. There have been
none of them sold ; they have been sent back from London
long ago; and this 31. 3s. is for the cellarage, or ware-
house-room in our book cellar. The work was in conse-
quence preferred from the ominous cellar of the publishers,
to the author's garret; and on presenting a copy to an ac-
quaintance, the old gentleman used to tell the aneciote with
great humour, and still grattergood-nature.

With equal lack cf worldb: knowledge, I was far more
than equal sufferer for it, at the very outset of my author-
ship. Toward the close of the first year from the time
that, in an inausp'cious hour I left the friendly cloisters,
and the happy glove of quiet, ever-honoured Jcsus Col-
lege, Cambridge, I was persuaded by sundry philanthro-
pists and. anti-polernists to set on foot a periodical work,
entitled The Watchman, that (according to the general
motto of the work) all might know the truth, and that the
truth might make us free ! In order to exempt it front
the stamp-tax, and likewise to contribute as little as pos-
sible to the supposed guilt of a war against freedom, it was
to be published on every eighth day, thirty-two pages, large
(Nuevo, closely printed, and price only fourpence. Accord-
ingly with a flaming prospectus, " Knowledge is Power,"
sze. to try the state of the political atmosphere, and so forth,
!set off on a tour to the north, from Bristol to Sheffield, for
the purpose of procuring customers, preaching by the way
in most of the great towns, as an (tireless volunteer, in a
blue coat and white waistcoat, that not a rag of the wo-
man of Babylon might be seen on me. For I was at that
time, and long after, thought a Trinitarian, (i. e. ad nor-
m= Platonis) in philosophy, yet a zealous Unitarian •in
religion ; snore accurately, I was a philanthropist, one of
those who 60h:re our Lord to have been the real son of
Joseph, and who lay the main stress on the resurrection
rather than on the crucifixion. 0 ! never can I remember
those days with either shame or regret. For I was most
sincere, moat disinterested ! My opinions were indeed in
many and most important points erroneous ; but my heart
was single. Wealth, rank, life itself then seemed cheap to
me, compared w: tit the interests of (what I believed to be)
the truth and will of my Maker. I cannot even accuse
myself of having been actuated by vanity ; for in 6e ex•
pension of my enthusiasm, I did not think of myself at all.
My campaign commenced at Birmingham; and my first
attack was on a rigid Calvinist, a tallow-chandler by trade.
He was a tall dingy man, in whom length was so predomi-
nant over breadth, that he might almost have been bor-
rowed fur a foundry poker. Il is face I have before me at
this moment. The lank, black, twine-like hair, pingui-
nitescent, cut in a strait line along the black stubble of his
thin gunpowder eye-brows, that looked like a scorched after-
math from a last week's shaving. Ilia coat collar behind
in perfect unison, both of &a tr rmd lustre, with the coarse
yet glib cordage, that I suppose he called his hair, and
which with a bend inward at the nape of his Beek (the only
approach to flexure in his whole figure) slunk in behind
his waistcoat ; while the countenance lank, dark, very hard,
and with strong perpendicular furrows, gars me a dim no-
tion of some one looking at me through a used gridiron, all
soot, grease, and iron ! But he was one of the thorough-
bred, a true lover of liberty, and (I was informed) had
proved to the satisfaction of many, that Mr. Pitt was one of
the horns of the second beast in the Revelation, that spoke
like a dragon. A person, to whom one of my letters of re-
commendation bad been addressed, was my introducer.
It was a new event in my life, my first stroke in the new
business I had undertaken of an author, yea, and of an
author trading on his o*n account. My companion, after
tome imperfect sentences and a multitude of hums and has,
abandoned the cause to his client; and I commenced an
harangue of half an hour to Phileleutheros, the tallow-
, chandler, varying my notes through the whole gamut of
eloquence, from the ratiocinative to the declamatory, and in
the latter from the pathetic to the indignant. I argued,
I described, I promised, I prophecies! ; and beginning with
the captivity of nations I ended with the near approach of
the millennium, finishing the Whole with some of my own
verses describing that glorious state out of the Religious
Musings:

Such delights.
As float to earth, permitted visitants I
When in some hour of solemn jubilee
The massive gates of Paradise are thrown
ride open : and forth come in fragments wild
Sweet echos of unearthly melodies,
And odours ana:ch'd from beds of Amaranth,
And they that from the crystal river of life
Spring up on freslien'd wings, ambrosial gales !
lidigiourn Musings, 1. 3::1

My taper man of lights listened with pr.'servant and
praise-worthy patience, though (as I was afterwards told,
on complaining 61 cert-in gales that were not altogether
ambrosial) it was a melting (lay with him. And what,
Sir ! (he said after a short pause) might the cost be? Only
four-pence (0 ! how I felt the anti-climax, the abysmal
bathos of that four-pence !) only. four-pence Sir, each
number, to be published on every eighth day. That comes
to a deal of money at the end of a year. And how Line!'
did you say there was to be for the money ? Thirty-two
pages, Sir, large octavo, closely printed. Thirty and two
pages ? Bless me, I%fty except what I does in a family
way on the Sabbath, that's more than I ever reads, Sir !
all the year round. I am as great a one as any man in
Brummagem, Sir ! for liberty and truth, and all them sort
of things, but as tothis (no offence, I hope, Sir,) I must
beg to he excused.

So ended my first canvass : from causes that I shall pre-
sently mention, I made but one other application in per-
son. This took place at Manchester, to a stately and opu-
lent wholesale dealer in cottons. He took my letter of
introduction, and having perused it, measured me from
head to foot, and again from foot to head, and then asked
if I had any hill or invoice of the thing; I presented my
prospectus to him ; he rapidly skimmed and hummed over
the first side, and still more rapidly the second and con-
cluding page ; crushed it within his fingers and the palm
of his hand ; then most deliberately and significantly ruli-
bed and smoothed one part against the other ; and lastly,
putting it into his pocket, turned his back on me with an
" overrun with these articles!" and so without another
syllable retired into his counting-house. And I can truly
say, to my unspeakable amusement.
This, I have said, was my second and last attenipt.
On renaming baffled from the tiro, in which I had vainly
essayed to repeat the miracle of Orpheus with the Brum-
magem patriot, I dined with the tradesman who had intro-
duced me to him. After dinner he importuned me to
smoke a pipe with him, and two or three other illuminati
of the same rank. I objected, both because I was en-
gaged to spend the evening with a minister and his friends,
anti because I had never smoked except once or twice in
my life time, and then it was herb tobacco mixed with
Oronoko. On the assurance, however, that the tobacco was
equally mild, and seeing too that it was of a yellow colour
—(not forgetting the lamentable difficulty I have always

experienced in saying No! and in abstaining from Whit
the people about me were doing) I took half a pipe, fillibg
the lower half of the bowl with salt. I was soon, however,
compelled to resign it, in consequence of giddiness and
distressful feeline• in my eyes, which as I had drank but a
single glass of ale, must, I knew, have been the effi. et of
the tobacco. Soon after, deeming myself recovered, I
sallied forth to my engagement, but the walk and the fr.•sli
air bionght on all symptoms again, and I had scarcely en-
' t?red the minister's drawing-room, and opened a small
pocket of teeters, which he hail received from Bristol for
me, ere I stalk back on the sofa in a sort of swoon rather
than sleep. Fortunately I had found just time enough to
inform him of the confused state of my feelings, and of
the occasion. Fur here and thus I lay., my face like a
wall that is white washing, dcnthy pale and with the cold
drops of prspfratiOn running down it from my forehead,
while one after another there dropt in the different gentle-
men, who had been invited to meet and spend the even-
ing with me, frotn the number of from fifteen to twenty.
As the poison of tobacco acts but for w short time, I
at length awoke from insensibility, and looked round oh
the party, my eyes dazzled by the candles which had been
lighted in the interim. By way of relieving my embar-
rassment, one of the gentlemen began the conversation, with
" Have you seen a paper to day, Ale. Coleridge?" " Sir!
(I replied, rubbing my eyes) " I am far from convinced
that a Christian is permitted to read either newspapers or
any other works of merely political and tempotary interest."
This remark so ludicrously inapliosite ter, or rather, incon-
gruous with, the purpose for which I was known to have
visited Birmingham, and to assist me in which they were
all then tact, proilucill an involuntary and general burst of
laughter ; and seldom Indeed have I passed so many delightful
hours, as I enjoyed in that room from the moment of that laugh to
an early hour the next morning. Never, perhaps, in so mixed and
numerous a party have I since heard conversation sustained with
such animation, enriched with such valley of information, and en-
livened with such a flow of anecdote. Both then and afterwards
they enjoined in dissuading me from proceeding with my scheme;
assured me in the moat friendly and yet most flattering expressions,
that the employment was neither fit for me, nor I fit for the empiny-
went. Yet if I had detemtirted on persevering in it. they promised
to exert themselves to the utmost to procure subscribers, and in-
sisted that I should make no more applications in person, but carry
on the cal vass by proxy. The same hospitable reception, the same
dissuasion, and (that failing) the same kind exertions in my be-
half, I met with at Manchester, Derby, Nottingham, Sheffield, in-
deed, at every place in which I took up my sojourn. I often re-
call with affectionate pleasure the many respectable men who inte-
rested themselves for me, a perfect stranger to them, not a few of
whom I can stilt name among my friends. They will bear witness
for me, how opposite even then my ;principles were to those ofjaco-
binism or even of democracy, and can attest the strict accuracy of
the statement which I have left on record in the 10th and Ilth
numbers of The Friend.
From this rememhemble tour I returned with nearly a thousand
names It the subscription list of The ll'atchman; yet more than
half convinced, that prudence dictated the abandonment of the
scheme. But forithis very iC43011 I persevered in it; for I was at
thitt period am), life so completely hag-ridden by the tear of being
influenced by selfish motives, that to know a mode of conduct to be
the dictate of prudence was a sort of presumptive proof to my
feeling., teat the contrary was the dictate of duty. Accordingly,
I commenced the work, which was announced in London by long
bills in letters larger than had ever been seen before, r.-+d which
(1 have been informed, for I did not see them myself) eclipsed the
glories even of the lottery mat. But, alt. ! the publication of
the very first Number was delayed beyond the day announced for
its appearance. In the second Number an essay Against fast days,
with a most censurable application of a t.xt from Isaiah for its
motto, lost me near live hundred of my subscribers at one blow.
In the two following Nunlike' I made enemies of all my Jacobin
and Democratic Patrons ; for disgusted by their infidelity, and
their adoption of French morals with French philosophy ; and per-
haps thinking, that charity ought to began nearest home; instead
of abusing the government and the Arisuocats chiefly or entirely,
as had been expected of me, I levelled my attacks at " modern
patriotism," and even ventured to declare my belief that whatever
the motives of ministers might have been for the sedition (^r as it
was then the fashion to call them, the gagging) bills, yet the bills
themselves Would produce an effect to be desired by all the
true friends of freedom, as far as they should contribute to
deter men from openly declaiming on subjects, the principles
of which they had never bottomed, anti from " pleading to
the poor and ignorant, instead of pleading for them." At
the smite time I avowed my conviction, that national education
and a concurring spread of the Gospel were the indispensable con-
tlition of any true political amelioration. Thus by the time the
seventh number was published; I had the mortification (hut why
should I say this, when in truth I cared too little for any thing that
concerned my worldly interests to be at all mortified about it ?) of
seeing the preceding numbers exposed in sundry old iron shops fur
a penny apiece. At the ninth number 1 dropt the work. But from
the London publisher I could not obtain a shilling ; lie was a --,
and set the at defiance. From oiler rlsees 1 procured but little.
nnd atter such delays as rendered that little worth nothing ; and I
I should have bean inevitably thrown into gaol by my Bristol primer,
who refused even to wait fora month, for a min between eighty and
ninety pounds. if the money had not, been paid for me by a man by
no means affluent, a dear friend who attached himself to me from
my first arrival at Bristol, who has continued my friend with a fide-
lity unconque:ed by time or even by my own apparent neglect : a
friend fram whom I never received an advice that was not wise, or a
remonstrance that was not gentle and affectionate.
Conscientiously an opponent of the first revolutionary war, yet
with my eyes thoroughly opened to the true character and impo-
tence of the favourers of revolutionary principles in England. prin-
ciples which I held in abhorrence (for it was pact of. my political
creed, that whoever ceased to act as an individual by making him-
self's member of any society not sanctioned by his government,'
forfeited the rights of a citizen)—a vehement anti-ministerialist,
but after the invasion of Switzerland a more vehement anti.gallican,
aril still more intensely anti-jacabin, I retired to a cottageat Stowcy,
end provided for my scanty maintenance by writing verses for a
London Adorning Paper. I saw plainly, that literature was not a
profession by which I could expect to live; for I could not din-
pin from myself, that whatever my talents might or might not be
in other respects, yet they were not the sort that could enable me to
become a popular writer; and that whatever my opinions might be
in themselves, they were almost equidiitant from all the three•pro-
minent parties, the Pittites, the Foxites, and the Democrats. Of
the unsaleable nature of my writings 1 had an amusing memento
one morning from nor own servant girl. For happening to rise at
an earlier hour than usual, I observed her putting an extrava-
gant quantity of paper into the grate in order to light the fire, and
mildly checked her for her wastefulness: la, Sir (replied poor
Nanny) why, it is only " Watchmen."

I now devoted myself to poetry and to the study of ethics and
psychology; and sn profound was my admiration at this time of
I larder's Essay on Man, that I gave his name to my firstborn.
In addition to the gentleman, my neighbour, whose garden joined
my little orchard, and the cultivation of whose friendship had been
my sole motive in choosing Stowey fur try residence, I was so
fortunate as to acquire, shortly after my settlement there, an inns-
loable blessing in the society and neighbourhood of one, to whom
I could look up with equal reverence, whether I regardei hint as a
poet, a philosopher, or a man. l!ia convereation extended to al-
most all subjects' except physics and politics ; with the latter he
never troubled himself. Yet neither my retirement nor my
utter abstraction from all the disputes or the day could se-
cure me in those jealous times from suspicion and obloquy,
which did not stop at me, but extended to my excellent friend,
whose perfect innocence was even adduced as a proof of his
guilt. One of the many busy sycophants of that day (I here
use the word sycophant in its original sense, as a writcli who
flatters the prevailing party by informing against his neigh-
hours, under pretence that they are exporters of prohibited figs or
fancies! for the moral application of the term, it matters not
which)—one of these sycophantic law-mongrels, discoursing on
the politics of the neighbourhood, uttered the following deep re-
mark : "As to Coleridge, there to not so much harm in him, for
he is a whirlbrein that talks whatever comes uppermost ; but lvti
he is the dark traitor. You never hear him say a syl-
lable on the subject.—Biegeopflia Literaria; or, Bionraphical
Sketches of ray Literary 4ife and Opinions, by S. T. Coreridge.

CIIRISTMASIBOXES TO THE CLERKS OF

THE FAILIAG BANKS.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE BRITISH PRESS.
SlR—While your readers are making grand preparations
for celebrating with due honour this season of hospitality,
allow me to bring to their notice a deserving class of men
who can take no share in the general festivity : I mean the
clerks of those bankers who have recently stopped payment.
Nothing could be more unfortunate for them, as those
failures have occurred just before the period when they
receive their Christmas lames, on which they were accus-
tomed to depend as part of their salary. lo be daprired
of View gratuities at a time when they ar.d their families
most need pecuniary assistance, is peculiarly distressing.
trust, however, that those depositors who have lost but
little money by their hankers will make at least the accus-
tomed present to the clerks, and that even those who have
in this respect been unfortunate will not refuse to give a
helping hand to those who nine more unfortunate than
themselves. The inflation of this hint in some cormr of
your journal may be the means of enabling some worthy
men and their families to pass the Quinones holy days in a
manner somewhat less mournful than they otherwise
would.

A MERCHANT, ONCE A CLERK.
Tonfe C^ffee-licuse, Dn. 26.

MURDER AT CALCUTTA.
A dreadful event happened yesterday in Fort William.
alma four o'clock. p.tn. A private of the 87th, of ti e
name of TiMothy Heavy, was observed to spunge his mus-
ket, which tieing with soldiers a common thing in dam•,
weather, elicitAl vecuiiar notice. Ile then loaded 16. d
piece, and set it down for a little near the wall of the bar-
rnek-room, and immediately afterwards took it tip again.
And prereeded to 'the berth of Szrgeaht Henry Marshall.
A report shortly afterwards was beard, and one or twomett
running up to the quarter Whence ft prbteeded, found Ser-
geant Marshall lifeless and weltering in his blood. Heavy •
'stood near him, we believe, with the discharged musket its
his hand. and confessed to having perpetrated the horrible
decd. He was, we understand, sober at the time, nor is
there any reason to suppose that he Was deranged when be
committed the fatal act.. It stems that some words had
passed 'two or three days before between the deceased ■ndl
the prisoner, and that the latter appeared incchsed at being
ordered to perform some routine coy tnr other by Sergeant
Marshall. It is said that the prisoner, at or about the
time, used some threatening language. We true for his
own sake that this may be proved on his trial not to herd
been the case.

At the time that Heavy deprived his fellow-soldier of
life the latter was sitting at the table in the act of writing.
Whether the prisoner warned the poor fellow or not we
cannot say, but we believe he did not. We conclude this
from what we lotiv heard already, and from an inspection
of the body. The muzzle of the musket otild not have
been fat from the side of the deceased when the shot was
fired. The sergeant, as we have said, war in the net of
writing. The ball entered his right arm immediately be..
low the elbow, passed through, entered the right side of;
the cavity, of the chest about the fourth rib, tore up the
heart, and passed out of the chest ou the left side about
the third rib. The blood gushed out as from a kettle, and
the man was dead instantaneously, never arm moving a
muscle, or uttering a grcan.
Sergeant Marshall was Pay Sergeant of his company,
and much respected in the regiment. He was a fine-built
handsome man, in the prime of life, when thus untimely
and fearfully cut off by the hand of violence. It is not
yet known whether the prisoner is to be tried by the Su-
preme Court, or a General Court Martial.—lndia Gazcilei
Aug. 4.

MURDER AT DUNDEE.

We have this week to record the murder of a wife-by her bus.
band. The husband's name is David Balfour, a mariner, lately hi
the service of the Dundee and Perth Shipping Company. It cep..
pears that they had been married abodt the early age of eixreen,
and lied lived together most happily for a number of years. Some
time afterwards he was impressed, and nerved on board a man of
war for eleven years. Being at last discharged from the navy, he
returned to tits 'tome, and lived with his wife for some time; but
her chastity had by this time become liable to suspicion, and peace
and happiness had fled the house. Ba'cone, who appears to have
been sincerely attached to his wife, bore with her failings for a long
time in hope of amendment; but she herself became tired of the
connexion, and wished to get rid of him. On his return from
Greenock, on Monday last, site refused to allow him to sleep with
her, and desired him to leave the house, otherwise she would semi
for the t'alice. The poor man was compelled to resort to an eeting:.
house for his victuals. Overwhelmed with grief anti deepair, he
began to meditate acts of violence. Yesterday morning, about
eight o'clock, the father of his wife, In whose house site lived, and
a saddler, who lodged in the same house, heard, when in the next
apartments, a loud shriek front the kite:ben ; and, on rushing to
the spot, they found the unhappy woman on her knees, with a large
wound, indicted by her husband, in her left breast, from which a
torrent of blood was flowing. She expired in about three minute,
afterwards. The instrument of death was a butcher's knife, which
Balfour had mently borrowed, alleging that he wanted to kill a
lamb wilt it. On committing the fatal act, he proceeded directly
to the gaol, stated at the grating of the door that he had mdrdered
a woman, and wished to be put In confinement. The gaoler being
absent at the time, he waited about an hour at the door till be made
his appearance. Not having any warrant for his committal, the
gaoler conducted hint to the police office. Ile was immediately
examined before Bailie Gray and having aga!n confessed his crime,
be was committed to prison to await his punislitnent. He is about
thirty-eight years of age, of a good appearance, and, so fares we
have been able to learn, has hitherto borne a very good character.
He appears to be deeply affected by his unhappy situation, but at
the same anus manifest', a degree of ['mutest and composure that
is trnly remarkable. His mind seems quite made up to meet the
fate which ho evidently contemplates as inevitable.—bendea
("eerier.

FIRE IN EDI/4131:ml H.—About three o'clock on Friday
morning, a fire broke out in the third flat of a house in the
West Bo How it was occasioned has not been eery
well ascertained; but it began in a Louse of bad repute.
occupied by Mrs. Anderson. The flames ragcd with great
fury for some time; but by the exertions of the firemen,
who were abundantly and troll served with water, the fire
was got under in about three hours, after destroying th.,
fiat in which it began, and the one above, with an adjoin=
ing house of one story at the foot-of Donaldson's Clem.
But although the fire did not extend to the lower part of
the house, it appears to be mostl7 destroyed by water; and
a good deal of loss was sustained by the inhabitants of the
adjoining tenements in removing their furniture. The one
immediately on the left of that destroyed is a Wooden build-
ing; which, but for the timely assistance of the engine',
must bare soon fallen an easy prey to the flames. The
upper flat of the licuse destroyed, and the small horse be-
' hind, formed the residence of Provost Stewart, celebrated
in the evenfs of the year 17.1.5. It had been for many
years uninhabited ; but contained some property belong-
ing to the late Mr. Donaldson, width, we hear, was in-
sured. The fire engines, on this occasion, were served
with water by leather pipes communicating from the fire-
plugs to their cisterns; and they were much tnore effi-
ciently supplied than they had ever been before with
buckets, and without that confusion and interruption to
frequently caused by the former plan. Indeed the bene-
fits of systematic management were never more conapicuous
than on this occasion. Scarcely half an hour had clapacit
from the time of the first alarm, when three engines wire
in full play upon the burning tenement; and, notwith-
standing the confined space in which they were obliged t►
operate, by the judicious arrangements of Mr. Braidwooti..
they rot only kept the flames from spreading to the ad-.
joining buildings, but bad the complete mastery over theta
in two or three hours. No accident of any kind occurred.

On Tuesday a female was committed to Downpatrick .
goal, on suspicion of having been concerned in the murder
of Miss Anne Stott, of Hillsborough. This wornanlhad
been a confidential servant of Miss Stott, whose regard for
her was so strong, that she had inserted a clause in her
will, leaving her H./. per annual during life, with a cow.
and a large quantity of houschcld furniture. Some firm.-
after perfecting the document, she, for acme cause with
which we are unacquainted, parted with ber servant, and,
it is 'said, expressed an intention of revoking the bequest.
to which we have alluded. Miss Stott also received
into her house a very worthy, well-behaved young woman,
the daughter of a respectable farmer named Ferguson,
lather in the character of a companion than of a servant,4
and this modest and unassuming girl was assassinated iit
the very bloom of life, and left weltering in her gore be-'
side her murdered friend and protector. —Belfast Paper.
Some scoundrel has several evetings lately infested the
lonely parts of the town and its environs equipped in a
skeleton dress, with a false neck and head, so construetc.l
as to make him appear of a prodigious height. On the.
approach of a female, or any person whom he consltlei,
unable to cope with him, he throws back. his cloak, ne,.
appears as described. Several females this week have bo.:.
thrown into the greatest agitation by the dastardly
Southampton frerall. .

DREATFTT. ACCIDIINT.—On Friday afternoon, between
the hours of 3 and 4 o'clock, as Col.l:vans was returniag to town in 3
barouche, accompanied by a friend, from, iVoolatch, on tats
reaching Charlton, cne of the Greenwich and NVoolwieh stage
coaches attempted to pass them, where the read was being repaired ;
the consequence was that the off-wheel or the stage canoe in
violent contact with the body of the harouche. the horses of
which took fright nt the .hoeh, andt.gamped offwithfsriosw
speed ; the Colonel kNit the reins for some time, but at leasphi
the vehicle ran foul ci a Atrial pat on the read aide with aucia
prodigious force that it was overturned, and tae Colonel and his
friend were•Precipiated to the ground. Till farmer gentlemea
pitched on his head, which rendered him totally sensciese.
Vaughan, his companion, however, was more fortunate; he eserea
with the exception of a few bruiecs; he was therefore et.stlled to
render the Colonel every assistance; at diet it *3l imagined that
life was destroyed, but on his being taken in to Carlton-homie, the
residence of Sir Thomas Wilson, and a surgeon. sent for, he per.
tinily :recovered. His head has merited a severe fracture, anti his
right shoulder *au dislocated. He now remains at the abort"
Gentleman's, where every attention was paid him. The Inroad*
w.:3 steppe!' coon after ape "'Want occurred.