The Sun.
London, England, 1865-08-15 00:00:00

The Murders near Holborn.

The visit of the London detective police to Rams-
gate has set at rest all doubts as to the identity of
the Stephen Forwood of that place with the Ernest
Southey of Brighton, Ryde, Surbiton, Worcester,
and Putney. Inspector Tanner, to whom the pri-
soner was well known as Southey previous to the
dreadful crimes of last week, reports that while at
the examination at Ramsgate on Saturday the pri-
soner referred to his applications in past times for
pecuniary assistance, and remarked that the Go-
vernment, which would take no notice of him be-
fore, could now offer a large reward for him.
When in London the murderer wore a beard and
moustache, but he shaved them off about a fortnight
before the commission of the crimes—a change in
his personal appearance which he took care should
be noticed in every place where he was known ; a
fact which leads to the opinion that, whatever crimes
he meditated, he desired in some way to baffle jus-
tice.

The inquiries of the London detective police, act-
ing under Inspector Tanner, have shown that Mrs.
White, the mother of the three children murdered
in London, was in communication with the prisoner
up to the latter end of June, when she was living
in the neighbourhood of Putney. She had with her
a little girl which she had borne since cohabit-
ing with Southey, and she has been known to de-
clare that her life withthe man had been so wretched
that she was desirous of berg beyond his power.
An opportunity occurred for her to go to Australia
with a family in the capacity of nurse. She gladly
took the offered situation, and, leaving her little
girl in the care of a benevolent lady, who was wil-
ling to take charge of her, the woman sailed from
England a few weeks ago. Forwood, it is under-
stood, was not aware for some time where his late
paramour was, and he used every exertion to disco-
ver her, making repeatedinquiries for her in all parts
of Putney, telling the many persons in that place
who knew the pair of his loss, and always styling
himself her husband.
It is believed that his connection with this woman
did not have that romantic commencement which he
has described. There are reasons for supposing
that he knew her before he left Ramsgate, and that
he maintained a connection with her after her
marriage, about 10 years since, to Mr. White,
who, it will have been noticed, regarded the mur-
dered boys as his " reputed children" only, and not
without cause. For several nights previous to
committing the murders the prisoner slept in the
stable of a publichonse in Putney, and he left
there at three o'clock yesterday week, as he took
the three boys from Mr. White's house to the coffee-
house where they were murdered. lie had no
money when he left Putney, but he must have ob-
tained some, as he defrayed the expenses of lodging
and living at the coffeehouse, bought a new revolver,
paid his expenses to Broadstairs, and had 15s. when
taken into custody. He had, however, means of
obtaining money which must now and then have
put him in possession of a few pounds ; for, besides
his billiard-playing skill and betting, he was always
writing begging letters to benevolent noblemen and
gentlemen.

Whatever doubts Mr. White had of the parentage
of the murdered boys, it may be stated to his credit
that he did allow those doubts to weigh with him
as to his duty towards the children. He made every
arrangement for the burial of the unhappy boys,
and, after the opening of the coroner's inquiry on
Friday they were placed in separate coffins, and in-
terred on Saturday morning in the cemetery near the
Victoria-park.
It is considered most probable that the prisoner
will be removed by writ-of habeas corpus to take his
trial in London for murder of the three children, as
it is looked upon as most undesirable that a cause
of so much importance should stand over for months,
as it would if it should have to wait for the Maid-
stone assizes.

THE MURDERER'S LETTER.—The following is the
letter of Southey, as it appeared in the Daily 7 ele-
graph of Monday, April 11, 1864:
" In almost boyish years I met with one who was poor
and delicate, educated, and unprovided for. For these
reasons I resolved to shield her from the world. I was at
this time directed in my conduct by a strict conscience, re-
ligiously formed and scrupfilously exacting, with very im-
perfect perception of that compromise between good and
evil which human conduct, after all, can only amount to.
Upon an occasion I forgot my duty, and from that one
circumstance dates all my misfortune and fearful blight of
life. The standard for my conduct had been fixed too
high, and my declension corresponded. My religious be-
lief now only created doubt and despair. With self-respect
gone and renewed temptations, I diverged wider and wider
from that practice of right which under all I loved. I
found no stand point upon which to recover my lost bal-
a a
cons and at last
of
last sought in frivolous diversion to escape
my -rui is. The re
without m. eainhs
had
dr
nowprof ession, or a single person I knew,
fallenc saket of e
thatbtto m, and all this
o
Glasgow
result of an ill-balanced
tidoTmfe h
was
human life. I felt that my
and worthless, but for
h
evseurlyttli finallyinga n
was, d billiards
t h atl came
found
to
na complete
myself
trusted, and (knowing me welli)relelstp
tto. the
in
judgment of obligations of
irremediably ruined
mwohof still
resolved loved,
make some reparation to her, who was now the mother to
my children. A first wrong is like the letting out of water
Sternly resolved, I now sought suitable employment, day
after day, but in vain. At last,without a penny in the world,
I resolved to use for my redemption what had helped to
my ruin—billiards. I reasoned that I could therein show
to men of position and power that I was governed by
principles and aims which were worthy of better
establish-
ment. employ-
ment, and I then engaged to conduct a billiard
In course of time I received much kindness and
respect from gentlemen who discovered my character and
false position, and I pressed forward for my object—hon-
ourable employment. My claims and credentials were ac-
knowledged, and some few, kinder than most, used some
efforts in mybehalf. But in the end I found that men in busi-
ness are too much occupied in their own concerns to take up
another's interests; that my previous connection with bil-
liards had been a mistake (although I had separated from it at
this time); and that many who would risk their own lives to
sago a drowning:wretch would leave unaided those who suff©r

pain that makes life itself a burden, because the evidence
of this equally fatal suffering ie not seen. I did not find a
keenly discriminating man benevolent, and having power
to regard the usages of society at proper worth, who, to
save more than life, would exert himself in proportion.
For five years I struggled on through bitter life unspeak-
able, and all that penury, loneliness, self-reproach, and
persecution (from those who could not understand me)

could inflict, I suffered, and many and many have been the
times that I have asked myself shall I still keep on ?
What I ;have suffered has made me, who was a common

man, uncommon, and has taught me to live, not for life
itself, but for its aims. But this is stern teaching. I re-

solved again and again; but still no one helped me with
that much-needed little lift. I gained respect; the first
gentlemen in Glasgow would shake hands with me ; but
still I was left to have the credit all to myself, of my re-
demption, if it was to be accomplished at all. I was re-
ceiving some little help from my friends at this time, and
came to England. Knowing that rich men play at billiards,
as at rifle shooting or other sports, for stakes, which, if
fairly won, at least reflect no dishonour, and believing that
the end justified the means, I entered into competitions of
this nature, pitting my small means and skill against the
advantages of my opponents with varying success and
failure.
" At Kentfield's Subscription Rooms, Brighton, where I
was known, I met the Hon. Dudley Ward. He was play-
ing with a solicitor whom he knew, and with whom he had
often contended before. I made a wager with him of ss.
upon the game, and he lost to me in all £122. Ho then
contested with me, and altogether raised my claim to
£1,172. I should have previously stated that at the com-
mencement of the games he proposed an agreement that
all losses should be paid before leaving the room, to which
I acceded. Upon being applied to a fortnight after the
occurrence, he sent a letter to say that he could not pay
then, but would as soon as he was able. Two months
afterwards, beingbpressed for payment, and not being able,
he repudiated the debt. I then offered to allow the matter
to be arbitrated by two noblemen, to which he did not even
deign a reply. I went home the night that I had won this
contest thanking God that at last I had gained the power
to carry out the purpose of my life—that I should be able
to employ means less uncongenial to my tastes and percep-
tions—that my life would no longer be a lie—that in living
out my better nature I might still be of use to the world as
well as myself. The disappointment came upon me with
all the force and effects which circumstances gave to it—it
broke me utterly down.
"A few weeks before the last-mentioned circumstanced
I met one evening a lady whose extremely agitated manner
showed to me that she was suffering great mental distress.
I learned from her that she kept a young ladies' school—
that she was endeavouring to bring up thereby four young
children of her own—that she had 2s. 6d. in her possession,
was in debt, and had already sinned to get them bread as a
mother should not—that she had left her home, intending
never to return, feeling that farther life would only end in
great sin and disgrace—was going to the pier to escape ex-
istence. I saved her, as I should expect my sister to be
saved by any honourable man finding her in such position.
A banker, at the recommendation of the minister of her
church and others, helped me to try and establish her in
her home. I canvassed to get her pupils, sold her draw-
ings, helped her from my small bank to the best of my
ability, and saved her from the grasp of a man who sought
to make her his prey. Hei health failed, her home was
broken up, and I got her received into an hospital. Had I got
my money in proper time, this, with much more, might
have been saved. I would have lent her an amount to
carry on with, for she had fair prospects if this had been
afforded. She shared my disappointment, gave me sym-
pathy and affection, and in the end I found that I could
not forsake her without sinning over again the sin of my
early years.
" I calmly weighed all the serious difficulties of my posi-

tion, and obeyed the dictates of conscience in yielding to
her entreaty to share my destiny, which, God knows, could
be small boon. But the decision was not completed until
the Earl of Dudley refused to pay his brother's debt. I had
already striven with all my power, and suffered all I could
bear. The disappointment which had incapacitated me for

further effort had also disclosed to me that I could not live
on through more such life as I had without becoming a bad
man, which lam not, and will not be. I will rather die. I
entered then into union with this lady, with the under-
standing that our lives were at issue upon the settlement
of my claims, and trusting, should we fail during life, tho
fuller representation of the facts afterwards might obtain

for those whose interests we sought the right before re-
fused. This may read strange and unwise, but most men,
had they passed through what is here very faintly shadowed,
had either been in the grave, a prison, or a madhouse. It
is not external circumstance which measures human con-
sciousness of pain, but individual sensitiveness thereto. I
tremble more at life than death, knowing in which I have
most to gain. But Ido my duty as far as lam able, and
ask that help which I think it my duty to ask.

" I must believe that one of the highest responsibilities
of title is, that their possessors should hand them down to
posterity unsullied by reproach. The heir apparent to the
title of Earl Dudley has by conduct most dishonourable
(that to which the world applies the severest epithets)
brought upon me the greatest trouble, which now doubt-
less brings me to within a few days of the close of my life.
Will the order of society to which he belongs permit the
wrong 1 I felt it my duty to place these grave facts before
the present Earl of Dudley, under the assurance of several
noblemen that, considering all the circumstances, his lord-
ship would be more than justified in preventing all this
evil. I waited upon his lordship, who, upon informing
him that it was to me a matter of life or death, became
violent, and disclaimed the family responsibility urged. I
was not acting solely for myself, and T pleaded, and was
then driven from the house by his lordship as if I had been
a dog.

" Then, for the first time in my life, I felt painful but
bitter malignity, and wished for death, lest I became a bad
man. I have suffered many bitter wrongs not spoken here,
the inevitable lot of those who are down in the world.
But it is not for me to cast the first stone. Upon the ad-
vice and at the recommendation of a noble lady in Lon-
don, my more than wife also waited upon his lordship.
His manner, at first too amiable, upon being assured that
he was only waited upon for business, and that by the
wife of Mr. Southey, suddenly changed to the opposite
extreme. He only permitted a partial explanation, and
then refused, sneeringly, the request urged with the bitter
tears of a mother.

" Hoping from the intercession of a magistrate of Wor-
cester, who had placed before his lordship his views of the
circumstance, that he might now be willing to hear and
believe her statement, Mrs. Southey wont again to Witley
Court, alone and unadvised,and was shown into the library.
She now knew what she had not long fully known, that
the purpose of my life had been, and still was, to make
what reparation I could to my children and another
already mentioned. She had known that I had one
paramount object from the first, but not its nature, and
now shared my ardent wish for success, inspired also by
love for her children. These united motives, and our
desperate position, gave courage for this unpleasant duty,
and nerved a delicate woman for one more last effort. She
asked to see the Earl of Dudley, and was refused. Feeling
faint and very unwell, she then asked to speak with the
housekeeper. The earl then entered the room, and,
without allowing time for speech, seized her by the
wrist, using his strength with spiteful violence, and
twisting her off her feet, dragged her from the room into
the hall, and then with great force pushed her from the
door. One arm was so much injured by his lordship's
violent wrench that a druggist upon whom she called for
advice declined treating it, and referred her to a medical
Man. It is now five days since, and it is utterly useless.
Were I not seeking, above all things, to fulfil claims which
even this outrage does not permit me to forget, I should act
very differently in the matter.

"As it is, before asking a decision of justice thereon, I
feel bound to afford another opportunity for staying a tor-
rent of evil, of which the reader of this can but partially
see the magnitude. He must stand in my position, and see
with my view to be able to judge of my motives for this
action ; or let him be guided by what I have shown of my
life for this judgment. I act, believing I have but a few
days left in which to finish my work, and am employing
my last resources, that 1 may not leave unfinished the one
object of my life.
"I now submit my position to the world, in the belief
that any man in desperate extremity is justified in calling
upon his fellowmen for aid, that private misfortune should
not be allowed to become public calamity. And to those
many friends who have confirmed me in believing that I
was doing what was right, I address a last request for
their influence. It is currently reported that his lordship,
in matters of like nature in years gone by, has in preference
to his own judgment yielded to the voice of his compeers.
And if I am not now acting upon an erroneous conviction,
I trust, pleading as I am for the innocent, and not for my
own sake, that my appeal may not be in vain. That this
statement is written in all sincerity and truth is best evi-
denced by the manner in which I seek, under all the pain
of a voluntary confession of my own weaknesses, to make
atonement for them. I seek to show to the thinking and
unthinking alike in warning an illustration how one error,
small in itself, may bring such a train of baneful conse-
quences as will write in fearful lines the mournful requiem
of all earthly joy. Life presents too many instances in
which trouble has accumulated until it has become insup-
portable to render it needful for me to say more than that
those circumstances bring a crisis from which there can be
no beyond.

" I am well aware that few men, feeling themselves in
such a position, have had the power to do as I am now
doing; but my life has been too rugged and my position is
too critical for me at this moment to pay uncalled-for
regard to conventional usages.
" Whatever may have been my errors, I seek rather to be
guided by the true spirit of what is right than the imper-
fect letter thereof, as represented by social laws. For me
the love of life is gone, and I have the courage, which
suffering gives, to do this my duty to society, by striving
all in my power to avoid a calamity, and to ask in return
that society will do its duty to me. Had the Earl of Dud-
ley at first calmly heard and scrutinised my statement, he
would surely have acted as nobly as became his high sta-
tion ; and I declare again, as it has already been made
known to his lordship, that had he have enabled me to ful-
fil my wiphoo, oven as the whole strong bent of my nature

is given for that object, so it would have turned into one
of such feeling of unbounded gratitude as the highest are
honoured in receiving from the very lowest. Could I have
served him at the sacrifice of my life, it would have been
given without question. Has it come that hearts, bought
with kindness, once regarded as the best ornaments of a
throne, are now of such little worth? lam informed that
his lordship has saved his brother's honour before, and, if
not, must plead that the consequences shown beforehand
of this unfortunate occurrence would justify an exception
oto ever so wise a rule.

" This statement is roughly and hastily drawn out; ab-
sence of detail is caused by want of time; and if the tone of
expression is not equal to the grave circumstances sought
to be represented, it is not for want of truth in the facts,
but of descriptive power in the writer. I submit the truth
to the world with painful reluctance. Penance does not
atone for wrong, and I seek the power to make repara-
tion; money represents that power. I urge the sacred
plea of mercy.

"Mercy for those who are innocent. Shall it be urged
in vain ?

"ERNEST W. SOUTHEY.
"10, Castle-street, Worcester, March 16, 1864."

ANOTHER LETlTat.[Specially addressed to Sir E. B.
Lytton.]

I feel it my ditty to bring before the public a matter
deeply affecting its general interests, in which the force of
a mass of circumstances (including bitter wrongs, suffer-
ings, starvation, misery, and despair) have brought about
the greatest danger of the ascrifice of the lives of ten per-
sons in the fearful occurrences stated below. The shooting
of a nobleman, as an act of natural justice, a justification
of the deed being thus founded. That the wrongs which
he has inflicted are murder, only inflicted indirectly, and
skilfully avoiding the penalties of the law, and such
crime as all men acknowledge to be really greater crime—
than the act of taking life itself. That as the law provides
no remedy for these wrongs, no punishment for this crime,
the case reverts back to the fundamental law of nature—
the law of self-preservation. The injured one being left
to himself by the state has to do the best he can for him-
self, as well as to vindicate and uphold justice. These
views being supported by arguments quoted from Scrip-
ture, John Stuart Mill, the late Poet Laureate, Southey,
Bishop Burnet, Mariano, Mazzini, Buchanan, and many
other learned men, as well as by the sense of justice and
common sense of the many millioned to whom the facts
of this case have been made known. The other occurrences
are the poisoning as an act of mercy by a mother of her
family of young children and of herself, in order to save
them such sufferings as her own, which have at least
crushed out of her mind the very love of life, making her
willing to escape her misery in that fearful way, seeing no
other remedy possible. And lastly, the husband of the
fore-named, whose greater fortitude and power of endur-
ance has been the means up to this time of averting and
preventing the occurrences of which I have already
spoken. He, stripped by suffering of much of ordinary
belief, searching out into deeper truth for a stay and sup-
port, perplexed and distressed beyond measure by the
dark and subtle problems of ethics, metaphysics, and re-
ligion, without guide and instructor, and Wanting food for
sometimes as long as two days at a time ; he also is at
last so utterly broken down and exhausted by intense
anxiety, over exertion, privation, and bitter disappoint-
ments, that he has openly acknowleged that, looking to
the terrible nature of the sufferings endured by his wife
and family, the certainty of even worse sufferings in the
future, the hopelessness of life both for them and himself,
and the danger of their all sinking down to become a curse
to themselves and to the world, and viewing the fruitless-
ness of all his utmost efforts to bring about a remedy,
that giving these and all the other many facts of the case
the deepest, most careful, and most anxious consideration,
he has been. driven by them (and one other to be yet
named) to the conscientious conviction and one absolute
belief that it would be an act of virtue to save his family
from further suffering and evil by mercifully putting an
end to their lives; that the accident of the absence
from him of some of the eight children and persons
whose wellbeing is so entirely, so hopelessly bound
up in the matter, has alone been the means which
prevented him from carrying that conviction into execu-
tion, and that he should then have submitted himself to suf-
fer the penalties of our present iniquitously imperfect law
of justice. The additional consideration referred to, as
supplying a justification of the deed is this—a conviction
that itwould prove themeans of saving thousands of others
from like sufferings from death, and from that even worse
form of death—moral death.. That the facts of the case
would reveal such a striking and convincing exposition of
some of the defects which are still allowed with criminal
neglect to underlie our social system generally, our social
justice in particular, that it would so clearly show their
fearful results as to awaken the public mind to a strong
and abiding consciousness of their magnitude and iniquity;
that the case would supply such a tracing up to its original
and truo cause, that man of misery, vice, and crime which
disgraces England, which defies the remedies, and thwarts
the best efforts of her public men, which threatens the
moral health of the whole nation, without being under-
stood, that the case would supply such a convincing and full
explanation of this most grave social question as would
greatly help to elucidate the truth and bring into operation
more effectual and needed remedies. And that thus the
act of putting an end to these hopeless sufferings and lives
together would but be mercifully applying a last desperate
remedy, when all hope of other remedy had failed (as in
the case of Virginius), would.but be of inevitable evils ac-
cepting the least, would, in saving thousands, be certainly
bringing great good out of evil, and prove a real service to
the cause of humanity, civilisation, and truth, these views
being supported by arguments from "Paley" and others,
who justify, in certain emergencies, such exception to or-
dinary rule of conduct, recognising utility as the founda-
tion of virtue itself. It will appear to others, as myself,
that tho State should supply in such a case the proper help.
It does not. I have tried, tried fully in every way, from
the highest to the lowest authorities in the land, the
Church, justice, and police ; but I have tried in vain ; the
State makes no proper provision to meet and remedy the
case. The whole matter is one made up of strange, con-
tradictory, and seeming incongruities, and unless fully ex-
plained, could not be understood. Among the rest of the
anomalies is this—That not only does our present incon-
gruously imperfect social jnstlice (I quote Sir E. B.
Lytton's adjective and opinion) make no Provision
to remedy the case, but the law is • itself ac-
tually exhibited as having, by its injustice, been one of
the main causes of bringing about all this evil. Goldsmith
said years ago, "We made more laws to make more crimi-
nals." Judge Wilde said from the bench a few days since,
" The law worked a great injustice." And at present we
have the two Lord Chief Justices themselves disagreeing
as to what on a certain subj'ect is law. The law is positively
a criminal in the case I bring before the public, and it there-
fore would be anomaly indeed to accept its arbitration if it
afforded one (which it does not). It would be simply mak-
ing of the criminal a judge to try its own suffering victim.
In this dilemma I appeal to the people. I have exhausted
all private measures. Sir E. B. Lytton, writing on the sub-
ject of our social justice and its iniquity, says, " I direct
myself to the conscience that reigns superior to all law in
men's hearts and souls, and few who have had anything to
do with law will bo willing to contend that, but for that
higher law of conscience, our present degree of social order
could long be maintained or retained merely by our social
justice alone." As a last appeal, I hero also direct myself
to this highest tribunal, and request an immediate investi-
gation of the facts of this case by a few of those men who
seek to serve thepeople by studying and promoting the in-
terests of truth and justice. I know that although I openly
declare these . serious facts, it is exceedingly doubtful
whether they will be realised and acted upon with the re-
quired energy. I know that it is only when some such ap-
palling occurrences have already happened (such as these
circumstances threaten), that the defects in our system
which cause them, and the need of a remedy are acknow-
ledged and provided ; still, I fulfil my duty, and make the
trial whether it is possible, in this instance, tosave the sac-
rifice of human life, seeing that so many have been brought
into danger, and among the rest, that of a nobleman. This
short account of the matter would, in any other form, have
on most minds the effect of conveying a false impression,
and then practically be a lie, while in the manner adopted,
the real truth is conveyed and asserted, so as to be misun-
derstood by no one. Less than the whole truth (or an epi-
tome) is often as much a lie or more than the whole truth
would be. Since writing the first part of this letter events
in connection with the matter have already happened,
which leave the' case (to my judgment) so extremely
critical that any one most trifling additional weight of cir-
cumstance, or any momentary
and realised impulse added,
to the already overstrained state of mind produced,will bo
sufficient to bring about the saddest and worst of the oc-
currences of which I have spoken, and make that help
which I ask too late. John Stuart Mill says, " The opera-
tions of the will are caused that they may be predicted by
persons' adequate knowledge." I am acting here under
such a conviction, and deduce from the action laid down
that when one person has that brought upon him which
no mind could successfully resist or bear up under, which
on its overpowering force must coerce and control the will,
and possibly direct it to actions greatly inimical to general
interests (as may be the case in this instance), I conclude,
when this is the case, that it must be the duty and interest
of the people to instantly see that such a case has proper
attention. For the duty of fellow help rests imperatively
on all men, as self help and individual responsibility on each
one of us. On the axiom 1 have quoted rests the funda-
mental social principle of the mutual dependence of man,
the sacredness of human life, and the high duty of fellow
help to keep it sacred, and on these sacred principles I base
this most earnest appeal. Shall it be made in vain ? I
have specially addressed this letter to Sir E. B. Lytton, for
this reason—he is acknowledged to possess a widely-ex-
panded judgment on the question which would arise in the
proposed inquiry, both to the power of circumstances and
the psychology of the mind. If Sir E. B. Lytton will,
with two or three others, meet and hear the case, the hus-
band of whom I have spoken has pledged himself to make
a full statement of the whole facts to them, to be taken
down in writing. The facts are uncommon, complicated
intricate, and would demand the speciality, acumen, and
power of such a, mind to form true judgment thereon. I
feel if this is done at ones it may prove the means of saving
the public mind from a violent and painful convulsion,

such as recently seen in the States of America. It
might save a fearful ,precedent too likely to be fol-
' lowed. It might save from being brought before
the minds of the uneducated that which they
would be most unlikely to form correct judgment upon,
but which would be very likely to mislead them
to disturbance of public order, by creating dis-
respect and contempt for our justice and social institutions.
It might effect all the good sought to be effected by these
suffering and much wronged persons. Save their lives.
Save all the evil, and the good be accomplished without
sacrifice. It might save its being said of the people of
England that they had practically denied the sacredness of
human life, and in the year 1865 repeated Cain's heinous
impiety, "Am I my brother's keeper ?" Why is it that we,
as a nation, continue to cry, " Oh, how shocking ! Who
would have thought it ?" when human life has been al-
ready lost through criminal neglect, only to renew our la-
mentation when the same thing occurs again. What is
everybody's business (everybody's duty) is shamefully
often attended to by nobody. Among the other attributes
which mark man's relation to the Supreme, he possesses a
measure of Divine prescience. It is, then, to those to whom
this talent has been specially entrusted, to the wise up-
holders of right and truth, that I once more address my-
self, and wish the whole force of every earnest feeling of
my nature. I request them not to let it be seen in the
coming future that I sought to do a great public good, and
that they would not help me. The case has now gone be-
yond relief by pecuniary assistance ; such assistance is,
therefore, not asked, and will not be received by me ; but
any person taking a higher interest in the matter will re-
ceive every attention by addressing as below.
Putney, July 12, 1865. ANALYTICUS.

The following, which is from Bell's Life in London, ex-
plains itself in reference to the murderer :

AN APPEAL TO THE SPORTING WORLD.—WO have re-
ceived a long letter, signed "Fair Play," for which we have
not space, accompanied by letters from certain noblemen,
which bear out the truth of the matters contained in it,
appealing for support and assistance to the sporting pub-
lic. The writer gives us his name and address, and offers
to produce evidence of the truth of his statements to any
one who will take up his case. We make the following ex-
tract from his letter:—" Two years ago I won at billiards
£1,172 of a nobleman, under special agreement, proposed
beforehand by himself, that whichever lost must pay the
same day. When hehad lost ho asked to be allowed to send a
check the day following. But ho did not fulfil this promise,
and nothing was heard from him for a fortnight. He then
wrote from the Continent that ho could not pay, thus lite-
rally confessing, after having bound me to this agreement
to pay at once, that he had actually made bets to this
amount without the money to pay if ho lost. He wrote
now promising to pay as soon as he could. A month after-
wards, on being pressed for payment, he said, if the matter
was made at all unpleasant to him, it was only a debt of
honour, an, ho then should not trouble himself about it ;
but if it *fee left a few months ho would pay. Two
months afterwards, being again asked for a settlement, he
wrote to say that he would not pay at all. I then requested
that the case should be submitted for arbitration, naming
a high member of the Jockey Club who had kindly con-
sented to act on my part as one arbitrator, if he would
name another. But to this request he did not oven reply.
I accepted grave responsibilities on the faith of my having
won this money, and the non-payment of it, with the after
consequences thereof, have utterly ruined me and brought
me to beggary, hemming me in with such a complication of
unusual, desperate, and fearful circumstances, as would
seem almost incredible. There are facts in this matter
more serious than those I have stated, and I am well as-
sured, if the whole truth were fully known among the
noblemen and patrons who lend their influence to enforce
honesty and uphold the honour and morale of English
sports, that they would regard them as claiming strongly
their serious consideration. My debtor has now returned
to England. I have again requested him to submit the
matter to the arbitration formerly proposed. But again I
do not even receive a reply to my letters, and I have
exhausted every measure in my power. The nobles of
England have over shown themselves firm and zealous
in upholding the honour of their order in such cases,
often supplying our want of a proper tribunal by some
mode of private or combined action, so bringing about a
fair and proper settlement. I therefore now appeal to
them. I offer the fullest information, and court the
keenest scrutiny, fully and firmly confident that their in-
vestigation will prove that they are justified in. giving
me the support I ask." The writer concludes with an
appeal for pecuniary assistance, to be forwarded through
us. This we cannot permit, as it is contrary to our rules;
but we shall be happy to give his address to any gentleman
willing to investigate his case, or to assist in arbitration,
should wo be called on so to do.

EARLY PREPARATIONS FOR THE MURDERS.—Th follow-
ing report appears in The Sun of the 15th of December last
of an application which was made to the sitting magistrate
at Marlborough-street police court the day before :
" A well-dressed man applied to Mr. Tyrwhitt for advice.
He said that he had made the acquaintance, somo time ago,
of a lady of great attainments, but of no property. • She
had so far sacrificed herself to her children as to reduce
herself to indigence. He had made a vow to see her
through her difficulties, but being, as far as pecuniary
matters were concerned, somewhat similarly circumstanced,
he had suggested that they should unite their fates, and
make a joint effort to raiso themselves into that position in
society they were entitled to occupy. He found, however,
that lie could not marry the lady, as she had a husband
from whom she was separated, and they could not got a
regular divorce for want of funds. They had come to the
determination to form a union which should be binding on
each other. At the same time they stipulated that if they
failed to raise themselves into a higher position, they
would commit suicide. The drugs were purchased, and
they continued together, but, failing in their object, they
reconsidered their determination, and had now resolved to
separate and not to commit suicide. He now begged to
hand over to the magistrate the bottle containing the
poison, as a proof that all rash resolves had been given up.
" Hero the applicant offered to the magistrate something
wrapped in paper.

"Mr. Tyrwhitt—What, is this poison ? I don't see that
lam required to receive it. Take it to the police.
" The applicant continued. He said that that was the
first part of the case. The second part was of greater im-
portance. Ile was desirous of assistance in raising him-
self again to that position ho once filled, and which ho felt
ho ought to occupy.

"Mr. Tyrwhitt—what has a magistrate to do with such
a matter ?

"Applicant—lf a gentleman of your large experience, in
concert with the Earl of Shaftesbury and Sir Edward
Lytton Bulwer—men who have studied life and who are
skilled in its mysteries—will join with the all-powerful
press in this work, I cannot for a moment doubt that they
will at once decide on the value to be placed on my moral
and intellectual attributes.

" Mr. Tyrwhitt said ho had no time to devote to such
affairs. As he had no control over the press, he must refer
the applicant to its conductors."
This is about the time, it is supposed, that Southey and
the woman White separated, and since then, as before, he
has been constantly in the habit of writing begging letters.