The Sun.
London, England, 1837-04-12 00:00:00

This day was published, in 18mo., cloth lettered, price 65.,
or interleaved, price 7s.
SPILL A N'S TRANSLATION of the PHAR-
LY MACOPCEIA LONDINENSIS, with a Commentary ex-
planatory of the chemical decompositions, the Pharmaceutical and
Medicinal uses of the several preparations, with the doses and most
convenient forms of exhibition. The Rationale of the directions
given by the College for ascertaining the purity or detecting the
adulteration of medicines, has been given for the use of the junior
student. Several new Formulm have been added in the form of an
Appendix, derived originally from the Continental Pharmacopoeias.
By D. SPILLAN, M.D.,
Fellow of the King and Queen's College of Physicians, in Ireland.
London : Henry Renshaw, 356, Strand.

THE WEEKLY CHRONICLE.
UNPRECEDENTED CIRCULATION.

TN consequence of the disappointment experienced
by many Newsmen and Others last Sunday, and the intense
interest excited in the public mind by the Trial of Greenacre, the
Proprietors have this week made arrangements to print a supply
hitherto unheard of in the annals of the Press, viz., ONE HUN-
DRED and FIFTY THOUSAND copies ! In addition to the
fullest Account of the Trial, some exclusive and important Particu-
lars of the Prisoners will be given, accompanied by several inte-
resting Engravings, particularly a CORRECT VIEW of the
CRIMINAL COURT, with the Prisoners, the Official Per-
sonages, and others assembled, at the moment of the verdict being
returned. Early orders should be given by Newsmen requiring a
large supply. Advertisements for this weeks' insertion must be sent
immediately.
Office, 16, Catherine-street, Strand.

Published this day, price 75., second edition.
MODERN SOCIETY ; or, the March of Intel-
lect, the conclusion of Modern Accomplishments.
By Miss CATHERINE SINCLAIR,
Daughter of the Right Hon. Sir John Sinclair, Bart.
" The present volume is a decided improvement upon its precur-
sor, particularly as regards its description of fashionable society.
Some of the after-dinner conversations remind us strongly of the
sparkling and vivid wit of Sheridan. The passages to which we
allude are full of talent and the nicest tact ; arid they prove that the
authoress possesses a fund of wit and humour of a highly refined
order."—Edinburgh Evening Post.
" The dialogue is sustained with remarkable vigour and spirit,
and gives eminent proof of a mind not only well regulated, but
highly cultivated."—Scottish Guardian.
.‘ Miss Sinclair's knowledge of human character is considerable.
She has looked at society with a keen'observant eye ; and, though
no character-monger, yet she hits off character with skill and effect,
and fills her canvass, to borrow an expression from a sister art, with
an amusing and well-contrasted variety. Some of her conversations
are extremely well sustained. Ono very high merit Miss Sinclair
sustains throughout, that of keeping true religion in the foreground,
and vividly depicting the beauty which it sheds over the Christian's
every day life. "—Christian Instructor, Feb. 1837.
William Whyte and Co., booksellers to her Majesty, Edinburgh ;
Long-man and Co., London ; and W. Curry, jun., and Co.,Dublin.

At the grand theatre of St. Petersburgh, there is an
iron curtain, fire-proof, which may be drawn right across the
house, so as completely to isolate the stage from all communi-
cation with the audience part, as a precaution in case of fire.
The Emperor himself is nervous upon the subject of fires,
almost to a disease. Lately an alarm was given in this theatre,
and a part of the audience left their places, occasioning a good
deal of confusion. Immediately afterwards an intimation was
given to the management that they would be held personally
responsible in case of fires occurring in future.
AUSTRIA AND THE AUSTRIANS.—It lS justly
observed that there is, perhaps, no people who have a better
right to complain than the Austrians of the illiberal prejudices
of foreigners in describing their country. The names of Aus-
tria and Metternich awaken in many persons' minds no ideas
but of the most Machiavelian system of tyranny ; and the ig-
norant and abject state of the mass of the people is supposed
to be only surpassed by the universal profligacy of manners,
connived at, or encouraged by a government which is intent
only on suppressing freedom of thought and of political action.
We have been surprised that there should not sooner have ap-.
peared a work respecting this interesting country and people,
calculated to dissipate such false impressions, and we congra-
tulate the public on the publication of the two volumes under
the above title. They are replete with the most piquant sketches
of character and manners, and will be read with much pleasure.

Some nights since, at the moment when one of the
actors at the theatre of the Porte St. Martin, Paris, said to
another in the piece, " Now you have nothing more to do
than to recommend yourself to God," some one amongst the
audience cried out, " There is no such Being." A violent
tumult arose—cries of " Turn out the Atheist," " Turn out the
impious wretch," were heard from all sides. The whole
house vas in an uproar until the author of the confusion had
been removed from the box.

GENTLEMAN JACK.—This new naval story, which
is on the eve of publication, will possess a double interest. For
independently of the well-known and acknowledged inventive
talent possessed by the author of " Cavendish," we understand
that one of our most distinguished naval officers has given the
whole data of his most stirring life for the use of the novelist.

BERLIN, APRIL 4.—The failure of the very old
house of Isaac Solly at London has excited a great sensation
at Dantzic, that house having been very closely connected with
the city ; thus one of the family was long established under the
firm of Gibson and Solly. The London house formerly owned
many (often 10 or 12) of the largest Dantzic ships of which the
factor at Dantzic called himself the owner.—Hamburg Paper.

The " New Monthly," for April, maintains its
reputation as a " Humourist," and contains, besides, several
articles of the highest interest. The deepest interest will
better apply to the continuation of " The Phantom Ship," by
Captain Marryat. The whole story is admirably told. How
admirably picturesque, too, in another way, are Leigh Hunt's
" Tritons and Men of the Sea"—no other writer could have
rendered us so well acquainted with such a host of " persons
one would wish to have seen," or made us feel quite at home
at the bottom of the great deep. " Recreations in Natural
History" is an entertaining article. The Number contains
some youthful verses by Sir Walter Scott, and three most
earnest and deeply coloured poems from the pen of Miss Lan-
don. Among the hutnourists arc the Editor, with another
Gurney Paper; Mr. Poole, with some approved an unimprov-
able criticisms upon the illustrissinii of the Little Pedlington
Theatre • Alfred Crowquill, with a super-excellent biography
of Hercules, under the cognomen of the King of Clubs ; and
a most learned and laughter. loving dissertator upon the " Signs
of the Times." An excellent portrait of Mr. D'lsraeli em-
bellishes the Number, with a spiritedly written Memoir.—
Court Journal,

Mr. PRICE then rose to address the Jury for the defendents.
He commenced by saying it was due to himself, his Learned
Friend, to the Jury and the Court to state distinctly that they
had had difficulties to encounter in this case which he believed
had seldom been presented to a Court of Justice before. Every
facility which could have been afforded to the prisoners at the
Bar by the indulgence of the Court, and every facility which
could have been afforded even by his Learned Friends who con-
ducted the prosecution, they were in the full enjoyment of; but
large as those facilities had been, they did not remove the diffi-
culties with which they all had to contend, and which he be-
lieved it would be altogether impossible to put out of view.
It was quite clear that the most important evidence which
stood in the way of one of the prisoners at the bar had most
unquestionably proceeded from himself. At the same time
ho hoped he should be enabled to furnish them, if
not with an excuse, at least with an extraordinary
matter of extenuation for conduct which he could not but
call atrocious.—(Here Greenacre lost that self-command
which he hitherto appeared to possess, and continued cry-
ing for some minutes, holding a silk handkerchief to his eyes.)
was.quite sure that the male prisoner at the bar himself
was then, -and had been, as shocked with the dreadful recol-
lection of his dire proceeding as any one present, or as
the public in this or any other part of Europe could
possibly have been, if this tale had reached their ears. He was
quite sure that, from the moment of having come to his senses,
the male prisoner had bitterly regretted and repented his offence
against decency, and against the respect which was due to the
dead.—(The prisoners, Greenacre and Gale, here ap-
peared to be very deeply affected, and were both in tears.)
He was sincere in what he was saying, and was not using the
language of a mere advocate, because he knew, and was proud
to say, it was not in human nature to feel otherwise titan he
did. But that was not the only difficulty he had to encounter—
he had to contend with another formidable engine of oppres-
sion that had been from first to last employed to crush the
prisoner at the bar, to scatter his friends and relations, and to
paralize his advocate—he alluded to that powerful engine the
Press. There was once an engine in the prison of that name,
which the humanity of the law had banished from its walls.
The coincidence was striking. It was formerly cus-
tomary, when men stood mute at the bar, to press them
to death, in the press-yard of the court of Newgate, and
the law would have been frustrated if the pressure from other
places should revive that dreadful engine of torture, which
the law, under the inspiration of God, had banished
from this civilized land. He was sure he need not ask
them, as his Learned Friend Mr. Adolphus had done,
to banish all prejudice, and to forget all they might have
heard, read, or seen. He knew they would do it to
the utmost of their human power, but their power was
but human, and most superhuman would that intellect be
that could discard from its recollection, as an act of enforced
charity, that which it was impossible to forget, whatever an-
guish and agony it might excite to remember. He would
not dwell on that more at present. His only object was to
show how it bore upon the case, how it prejudiced every
witness that had stepped into the box—he did not say to their
scandal or their reproach, for melancholy and mischievous as it
was, it might proceed from an amiable mind. Abhorrence
had been excited, and the truth had been perverted, though
perhaps not intentionally; yet the mind had been swayed from
that course which could only keep testimony pure. The Jury
would have observed that much had been stated, even in the
most trifling matters, which, but for those circumstances, would
have been stated in a different light. There was a contagion in
this sort of malignant fever, front which it was difficult for either
the Bar, or even the Bench, entirely to escape. He did hope the
time would come, and that it would not be long, when it would
be as criminal in a Court of Law, and as penal in a Court of
Justice, to overlay and overload a case beforehand, by such
parties and by such means, as it was vale and villainous
in social positions, and as it was murderous and as-
sassin-like in all its bearings, its motives, and objects.
The current of justice had been perverted ; the stream of
truth, which ought to flow pure in all its channels, bad
been so blotted and so basely corrupted by a large proportion
of the British Press that no one could scarcely see through it.
13ut they must take the case as they found it, and notwithstanding
all the difficulties surrounding it their duty must be discharged.
He should in the course of his address be frequently obliged
to recur to the sequel of this melancholy accident, a sequel
which ho was bound to admit—he should be stultifying him-
self and the Jury if he did not admit to its fullest extent the
hideous atrocity—which had occasioned difficulties of which he
most bitterly complained, and which he most deplorably la-
mented. Reprobating as he had done the act of his client,
deploring as he had done the disadvantages to which it had given
rise, he would now proceed to call their calm and collected
attention to the real circumstances of this melancholy case.
The jury had for the period of nearly two successive days
given a most praiseworthy and laudable attention to the whole
of the case—had exhibited a magnanimous patience, and had
listened to the whole detail of the voluminous evidence with u
patience worthy of any case, and worthy of the justice
which they were there to administer, under most able and
admirable Judges. If he as the advocate of the prisoners
had had the selection of a court of justice in which to
try them, lie should be precisely where he then stood.
So far they had been most fortunate. His feeble aid to that
of his Learned Friend would avail the prisoners but very little
in a case of this description, prejudiced as it had been ; but they
would all receive assistance from the charge of the Judge a ho
would state the evidence in such a manner as would con-
siderably lighten the burthen of the Jury and of the
prisoner's advocate. There was a seven-fold shield thrown
around the prisoner, and one that was impregnable—
he meant the position in which the prisoners at the
bar then were—in the emphatic language of the arraignments
of former times they were put upon " God and their coun-
try." The prisoner's friends (said the Learned Coun-
sel) are scattered—he is already left alone in this world,
and probably ever will. The word " ever" may not be
long—he may never want more human assistance than
the very small pittance he has received this day. Be that
as it may, whatever may be the result of this trial, I am
sure that he will be satisfied with the verdict, let it be what it
may. It is only necessary that we should take care that it satis-
fies, and does no more than satisfy, justice. We are not to sa-
tisfy the base, the murderouspassions of an infuriated public.
Within these walls we are shut in from clamour, and the
pressure out of doors does not interfere with our calm and
deliberate consideration of this case. Upon your vigorous
manhood of mind, upon your integrity of intellect we rely.
Remember always that in this case it will be in-
finitely better for you to say " We were not
stimulated to murder by a violence offered to our minds. If
we have done wrong, if we have acquitted a guilty man, the
error is on the right and safe side—we are not guilty our-
selves." That will be a consoling recollection to you
on your death beds. Your lives will not be haunt-
ed by the apprehension that something may transpire
which will show you that you have consigned to an ignomi-
nious death a fellow creature that was not guilty to the extent
to which it was necessary he should be for your condemnation.
The Learned Counsel then went on to say, the path of life was
sufficiently beset with naisfortunes,which proceeded from our own
vices, without allowing a man to be punished for those for which
he did not deserve punishment. He hoped the Jury would for-
give him for telling them those things—they must be ob-
vious to every one. He only did so, lest it should be said
he had not done all that duty which, he was sorry to
say, was cast upon him. It was not his intention to
detain them with any unnecessary observations, nor was it
his intention, at his period of life—for he was not a mere
aspirant at the bar--to make any display. His Learned
Friend had been kind enough to say the prisoners at the
bar would have the advantage of Counsel, that it was a
novel advantage, and. one of which he was glad they had
the opportunity. He considered himself, that advantageous as
it was, under many chscumstances it would also frequently be
quite the reverse. He wished the Jury could hear the
prisoners make their own defence, because then, as
far as the woman at all events was concerned, they
would hear the voice of innocence, and it would sink
into their hearts. They would then know that she was
speaking not the language of an abettor of murder ; they
would have the singular advantage of the female voice speak-
ing powerfully, but striking to their humane hearts, and they
would have the advantage of hearing the language of truth
from the lips of innocence. Ho knew that because he had
heard it ; and he would declare to them that he was as satis-
fied as he was of her fnture salvation, that she deserved re-
demption from this charge. There was, he was very sorry
to say, a third prisoner, whose liberty was involved in
the present inquiry, a nd who had been, young in its innocent
life, a prisoner—he alluded to the woman's child. That
child was in Newgate , at play perhaps at that moment. As in-
nocent as that chili I was, so innocent was the female
prisoner. They had' not heard or seen a tittle of
evidence from the beginning to the end to affect
her in any way wheaever—he declared that he had not.
The concealment of s uch a circumstance, however sanguinary
or sanguineous, was not to be taken as proof of murder, Ha
would not attempt to deny that this was a high and very grave
offence. But the man at the bar stood in a very different posi-
tion from that of any other man in this country. On the 24th
Dec. he found himself Faithe company of a body which had been
killed, and the last per sou wheltad been seen with it was himself
—a body which he unfortunately had assisted to kill. Naturally
every one now said he, should hese called in the neighbours,
but who could say, if they were placed in such circumstances,
what they would do ? • He was a madman almost, and the
action which he decid Led upon was the frantic fury of a frenzied
mind, Tie Jury tad been relieved from a great part

of their heavy duty by the candid and open confession
which the prisoner had made of alt the circumstances
attending the death of this unfortunate woman. If they took
any portion of that statement which had most improperly been
called a confession of the murder, they must take the whole of
it; and he (Mr. P.) called it a most candid detail of all that
took place ; and it showed clearly that the crime did not
amount to murder. They had been told that the mute evi-
dence of the sack which had been exhibited to them yes-
terday would prove that this was a premeditated murder.
He was glad to find that that was the only evidence which the
prosecutors could bring forward to prove this premeditation.
He would, he hoped, be able to satisfy them that, in fact, there
was nothing in the point so made. He would ask them what
could be the motive—the incentive—which he could have for
the premeditated murder of the woman to whom he was to have
been married so soon? NVas it her property,either large or small ;
a few hours would have put every shilling of it under his sole
control by marriage. Was there any malice proved? No ;
not one single word of an angry nature had been proved. It
might be said that they had words about this very property ;
but was it likely that a few words upon such a subject would
raise such feelings in any one as would induce him to commit
murder ? It was the duty of the Jury to take care that
circumstantial evidence did not constitute murder. It had done
so before. Men had been hung upon circumstantial evidence,
which was afterwards found out to be untrue. It was the duty
of the Jury to take care that the sword of Justice was not
stained with innocent blood. The Learned Gentleman cited
a case from the books, and made several supposititious cases, for
the purpose of showing that even more atrocious cases than that
under discusssion had been held to amount only to manslaugh-
ter. The evidence of the talented gentleman, Mr. Girdwood,
shewed that no murderous weapon bad been used in inflicting
the blow on the eye ; he gave it as his opinion that the blow
was inflicted by the hand. Now, considering the relation
in which these parties stood, was it 'possible to believe that
any man would have struck such a blow without very great
provocation ? Let the Jury presume that, as they must do,
and then the crime must be reduced to manslaughter. Let
them look at the gross improbabilities of the mode
of death. They were to suppose that that man, not of
great strength, was to attack a strong woman, who got
her bread by severe toil, which was usually employed by
men. This murderous assault also, was supposed to have
taken place in a small room, where the walls were not the
usual thickness of partitions in good dwelling-houses, where
every sound was distinctly heard ; yet the woman was never
heard to scream, or make the least noise. Then as to the
time. Was it likely that a murderer would select a
time when all Christian Europe was ringing with
preparations for the holy festival of the Redeemer ? He
thought no man could commit a murder on such a night—it
was blasphemy to suggest it; and, in his opinion, it would be
infidelity to believe it. No one could be a Christian who could
believe such a monstrous crime. If it were true, it would be
a libel upon all religion. lie would show that the inhabitants
of Nos. 5 and 7, the prisoner's house being No. 6, were at
home the whole of the 24th December.

This course was objected to, unless Mr. Adolphus was de-
clared entitled to a reply.
Mr. PRICE would then say that no one of the neighbours had
been called before the Jury that day. He begged to impress
that fact upon the minds of the Jury as being a most impor-
tant fact, and he hoped they would bear it in mind and give it
its due weight in their deliberations. Ile was anxious to save
the Jury, wearied as they were, from hearing a reply, although
he had no doubt they would be gratified, and perhaps instruc-
ted. However, he would now leave the male prisoner's case in
the hands of the Jury, and he would proceed to say a few words
upon the case, as made out against the woman Gale. She had
been brought up respectably, in the lower walks of life, of ho-
nest parents. The child in the prison was not her own.
The Conar said the Learned Counsel was stating facts,
which was irregular.
Mr. PRICE was obliged to the Court, and would en-
deavour to perform his most arduous duty as regularly
as he possibly could. He was sorry indeed that she
should have been placed at the Bar, when no more
evidence could be brought against her than bad been brought
before the Jury. She was not proved to have been privy to
the murder, as it had been called, for four months ; she was
not even connected with the concealment of the body.
From whom would the prisoner (Greenacre) endea-
vour to conceal the murder, had it been so, more
jealously than from the woman at the Bar, who was
living with him in this lonely place ? She was turned out of
the house in order for the reception of the deceased. She
was charged with aiding, assisting, and comforting the mur-
derer. Was that possible—she a woman much poorer than
Greenacre himself—attempting to procure food for herself and
child by the precarious and ill-paid trade of shoe-bindin7 ?
The haste and hurry of the male prisoner was all for
the purpose of hiding it from the knowledge of that woman
whom he expected to share his exile, and who was to be
his comfort through life. She was before the Jury firm
and unchanged, while every one had noticed the change in
Greenacre. Was it in human nature, that the weaker of the
two should be firm and unmoved, while the other was
shaken ? Then the Jury had her character front the respect-
able persons with whom they had last taken up their abode,
and it was a good one, notwithstanding the way in which she
was connected with the prisoner Greenacre. They noticed
no change in her—was that consistent with guilt ? She
was certainly entitled to the favour of the Jury, and
he demanded it on her behalf, and he hoped they would
give her the benefit of such an acquittal as would restore her
to society, which she had not outraged. It now became his
duty to surrender his task into better hands. He would
leave the case in the hand!) of the Jury ; and notwith-
standing the great and overwhelming fatigue which they
had undergone, he trusted that they would calmly and
dispassionately go into the whole of the manifold
and intricate facts of the case. He had the most implicit con-
fidence in the Jury, and he hoped that all who had heard
of these proceedings would not be shocked by the shuddering
verdict of guilty against the woman.
John Freeman, stone mason, of Milbank. said Gale lived in
his family for a year as wet nurse, and behaved with great
affection and attention during the whole time. So much so
that Mrs. Freeman gave her a favourable character some
months after.

Mr. PRICE proposed to call witnesses to the charac-
ter of Greenacre, But Mr. Adolphus having stated if
that he did so, he would claim his right of reply, the Learned
Gentleman declined to call any.
The Loan CHIEF JUSTICE then commenced to sum up the
evidence. Ile said the prNoner, James Greenacre, was
indicted for the wilful murder of Hannah Brown, and tho
Jury were to determine as to his guilt upon the evi-
dence which had been laid before them. It was of a
contradictory nature. Some parts went t o the more
serious charge of the atrocious murder, and seemed
to bear it out; while on the other hand other parts seemed to
reduce the offence to a very atrocious case of manslaughter.
He would read over the evidence, and then it would be
for the Gentlemen of the Jury to determine what class
the offence belonged to. He was inclined to think that
the more serious charge might not be supported with re-
spect to the woman Gale, if they found the male prisoner
guilty of the murder, or whether they reduced it to
manslaughter, she might be equally guilty of the offence with
which she was charged. He then proceeded to read over his
notes of the evidence, and said—Among ether complaints,
Greenacre stated that Mrs. Brown said she could produce 3001.
or 4001. at once to go into business, while lie found that she
had procured goods in his name at a tally shop, and of her
being " quite gone," in drunkenness on the 18th of December.
It would seem from Greenacre's statement that crimination and
recrimination ensued, and that he pushed her chair. On this
point they could not but believe the prisoner guilty of felonious
manslaughter. The circumstance of the death of a person
was of itself an argument of guilt, but it should be received
with reserve. A man of right principles would have at once
met the truth ; but a timid or crafty person might have resorted
to the crooked manner adopted by the prisoner. No doubt the
mode of concealment was a horrid and revolting one, and must
shock all the feelings of nature. Still, in regarding it, they
should not receive it as an actual proof of guilt—it was the
aggregate of inferences from accompanying circumstances that
must influence their verdict. His Lordship then proceeded to
4dvert to the evidence of the two medical gentlemen, particu-
larly that of Mr. Girdwood, on whose testimony [the main
facts principally depended, and his evidence differed materially
from the statement of the prisoner, who did not say a single
word about the blow on the eye.
Greenacre here rose, and, in a firm voice, said " My Lord,
will you permit me to make a few observations on that cir-
cumstance, for the purpose of saving you the trouble of going
through the statement."

Lord Chief Justice TINDAL—I cannot do that, for I must
read it through.
The prisoner immediately sat down.
His Lordship proceeded to read the statement of Green-
acre adverting to it, and explained the difference between the
crime of murder and manslaughter, and concluded by calling
on them to dismiss frJin their minds every description of pre-
judice which might exist in their feelings against the priso-
ners. As it was their duty to decide, he trusted that all the
clamour as well as statements erroneously promulgated had
produced would be erased from their recollections. Ile.
begged of them to give the case their cool and calm delibe-
ration, and if anything favourable to the cause of the accused
presented itself ho would advise them to give the priso-
ners the benefit of it, for they were placed in a dangerous
and difficult situation, and it therefore became them to watch
the evidence narrowly. They were charged with mur-
der, and their verdict would be decisive. - If any doubt existed
it was their duty to give it to the prisoners. Should they,
however, be so satisfied that guilt preponderated in the scale
they would do their duty, and act in the way in which the law
had pointed out. Should they come to such a conclusion, they
would then have to consider whether the prisoner Gale was
guilty of the felony as set forth in the indictment. She was
charged with harbouring, assisting, aiding, and comforting
Greenacre to commit the said felony. The case was now in
their hands, and he trusted that their consciences would lead
them to a just and satisfactory decision.
The Jury then requested to retire,