The Sun.
London, England, 1834-01-06 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

WORKS OF BURNS. VoL. I. LONDON
COCHRANE AND .211' CRONE, 1834.
A memoir of Burns by Allan Cunningham !
This is a valuable addition to our biographical
stores, for never was one poet better qualified to
snake us acquainted with the thoughts, feelings,
habits, &c., of another. Mr. Lockhart's memoir of
the Ayrshire ploughman is the most nervous and
eloquent; Dr. Currie's the most elaborate; but Allan
Cunningham's is the most complete and authentic.
He has written it con an:ore—thrown his whole soul
into it. Here and there, however, we detect little
bits of cant—throwings up of the eyes, and purita-
nical shakes of the head, which might just as well
have been avoided. " Oh fie !"—a favourite phrase
with biographers—is much too often in Mr. Cun-
ningham's mouth. Now this conventicle slang is
intolerable, especially when launched against such
a man as Burns, whose story—despite his irregula-
rities—cannot but excite the deepest commiseration.
Indeed we never perused a more painful one. It
is the old tale of genius neglected and distrusted
when alive, to be honoured with the insulting
mockery of a monument when dead ; though of all
tales of this sort, it may, we think, in point of
suffering, claim the preeminence. Other gifted
spirits have hurried on through unchanging gloom and
obscurity to the grave ; but Burns touched the
loftiest pinnacle of glory, only to be hurled thence
into the blackest depths of despair. It is this start-
ling—this cruel caprice of destiny that makes his
case so affecting. The man whom Robertson pro-
nounced the most striking genius of his age ; to
whom Stuart and Blair were proud to listen, as to
some inspired oracle ; whom Dukes and Lord, che
rished as the grace and ornament of their social
circle ; whom high-born, lovely women thronged in
crowds to converse with and admire; to whom
Lord Sidmouth addressed complimentary stanzas—
remarkable for nothing but a fine aristocratic dul-
ness that there is no mistaking—and whom Pitt
declared to be the 'first poet since the daysof Shaks-
peare ;—the man thus flattered, thus distinguished;
died deserted by the great, a poor, paltry Exciseman,
chin-deep in debt, with scarce food enough in his
hovel to afford a meal to a stray mouse; his last
moments embittered by the recollection that the
hour which consigned him to the dust, would most
probably make his wife, for the fifth time, a mother !
And his fears were realized. Her husband's coffin
was passing out of the house, when Mrs. Burns was
delivered of a fifth " child of misery, baptized in
tears !" What a sad tale is here. Nevertheless, it
will not be without its use, if it shall be the means
of persuading aspiring visionaries who are just
stepping boldly across the threshold of manhood,
to cultivate all faculties but those of the imagination.
Better be a day-labourer than a poet. Better sweat
at the forge—dig in the mine—carry the hod—
shoulder the musket—or spin flax in the factory,
with a great, healthy overseer flourishing a billy-roller
above one's head, capable of cracking every skull but
his own—better follow any of these inglorious callings
than cultivate an acquaintance with the Muses, on
the keen, barren, hunger-inspiring heights of Par-
nassus. Other men are not without their cheering,
sunny prospects. The poet has none. A jail forms
his fore-ground, and a work-house glooms on his
horizon. These are inferences that will suggest
themselves to every one who peruses Cunningham's
Life of Burns with attention. Viewed in this light
they are the most instructive reading possible.
We hasten to give a valuable anecdote from them,
illustrative of the conduct of one of Burns's noisiest
patrons, the Earl of Buchan :
" The Earl, quoth our friend Allan, had advised Burns to
visit the battle-fields of Caledonia, and firing his fancy by deeds
wrought by heroes, pour their deathless names in song. When
the prophet retired to meditate in the desert he was miracu-
lously fed by ravens; but the peer forgot to say how the poet
was to be fed, when musing on the fields of Stirling, Falkirk,
and Bannockburn."
It is much to his Lordship's credit that he was
not equally forgetful of the interests of Robert
Bloomfield, of whom, some short time afterwards,
he professed himself the patron, equally with Robert
Burns. When the " Farmer's Boy," came out, we
have been told that this munificent Earl got together
a party of the English poet's friends, and after many
kind suggestions had been proposed, cried out in a
fine phrenzy of generosity—" Gentlemen, I really
think we can't do better than each take a pair of
shoes of this poor man !" But enough of this
Scotch Maecenas.
As the Earl of Buchan acted, so acted the rest of
the Scottish Chiefs. They petted, feasted, flattered
Burns, and then left him to starve and die. Con-
sidering his own situation, and the aggravated cir-
cumstances of the case, Allan Cunningham should
have been more energetic on this part of his sub-
ject. A fine, towering passion would have fir better
become him, than the shy, timid hints and down-
ward looks he pleases to indulge in. He is a man
---he is a poet—above all, he is a native of Burns's
own district. It was his duty then to have thought
and spoken out as such. No patron worth pre-
serving could have been lost by such candour.
On perusing the present memoir, we are struck
with the numerous points of resemblance that existed
between Burns and Byron. Both were noted for
their extreme candour—for the carelessness and
levity of their remarks—for their caustic wit—fierce,
intractable natures—and the vehemence of their
passion for the gentler sex. Woman was the only
spell that could calm down the feelings of either the
Peer or the peasant. In other respects no compa-
rison can be instituted between them. Byron had a
grasp of thought, a comprehensiveness of imagination,
to which Burns was a stranger. Yet in point of a
certain sound, healthy intellect, we question much,
whether the latter is not to be preferred to the
former. No single work of Byron has ever commu-
nicated half the pleasure, or been devoured with half
the avidity of " Tam o' Shanter." As a song-
writer, especially where woman is the subject, Burns
is the first that ever lived. There is nothing maud-
in or fantastic about him. His poetic pulse is full
of life and vigour, and he pays the sex the rare com-
pliment of heart-felt sincerity. It has been objected
to him that his passion should have evinced a little
more spirituality ; but let it be remembered that his
inspiration was the buxom, rosy-eheeked, red-armed,
laughing lasses of Ayrshire, and out of such mate-
als it is difficult to create a Una or a Genevieve.
There is little of imagination or invention in Burns'
works. His
in its char
•
longs only,,toTathnelwoh!n
character, with
is direct and straight-forward
highest
Shanter"
a magnanimityeilstorders
o f maibnodu. t itTt
II:
ea t
mb
ae
--
terials of
to his hands; he couldante
neverr
The same remark applies to his " C
hheafvoeunindverneateddy
tmheamde
more than t taa
ts
eSaturdayral
Night," which is nothing
tran-
script from real life.
Such was Burns as a poet. As a man, he
was " more sinned against than sinning" a
frank, careless child of
genius, who ‘vore his
" heart upon a sleeve for claws to peck ar." It
is greatly to his credit, that when in habits of inti-
macy with the highest circles at Edinburgh he.
never lost sight of seltrespect. The haughtiest

Peer in Scotland never once dared to take a liberty
with him, for the peasant, fresh from the plough-tail,
knew how to win, as well as to command, esteem.
It was not till he had experienced the hollowness o
all aristocratic patronage, and hopeless darkness had
gathered over all his prospects, that Burns, in the
madness of disappointment, " fell into evil courses."
For this the Saint will, no doubt, shake his head,
and say, far better that he had read or written
tracts ; while the Political Economist may possibly
add, far better that he had given up the unpro-
fitable trade of verse, studied Malthus, and com-
posed verses on the Preventive Check. But it is
not by these, and such as these, that a man like
Burns is to be estimated. We take him out of the
hands of intolerance, and consign him with confi-
dence to enlightened and charitable judges. These,
while they condemn his irregularities, will not be
ashamed to urge in extenuation that men of genius are
not mere mechanics : that it is their province—the
sad condition on which they hold their patent of intel-
lectual nobility—to hve in a state of perpetual mental
intoxication, and that to expect from them the cold,
plodding regularity of a drudge, is to expect con-
stancy from the winds, or warmth from an ice-berg.
Common sense and genius travel by very different
roads to success. The course of the one lies through
sloughs and along the edge of flowery precipices,
beset by will-o-the-wisps and meteors, that lure
the thoughtless traveller on to destruction ; that of
the other is direct, straightforward, and along a
broad, beaten highway, that there is no mistaking.
What wonder, then, that where one man of common
sense reaches his journey's end in safety ; ten men
of genius miss their way, starve—die—and are for-
gotten ? He who, after having perused Mr. Cun-
ningham's " Memoirs of Burns," shall rise from
the perusal with a sense of indignation, predomi-
nating over compassion and forgiveness for the poet
must possess a head and heart neither to be envied
nor respected. The subjoined extracts will be new
to many of our readers :

" With how little advantage to his health he bathed in the
Solway, may be gathered from his letter to Cunningham, of
the 7th of July—' Alas 1 my friend, I fear the voice of the
Bard will soon be heard among you no more. For these eight
or ten months I have been ailing, sometimes bedfast and
sometimes not; but these last three months I have been tor-
tured with an excruciating rheumatism, which has reduced
me to nearly the last stage. You would actually not know me
if you saw me. Pale, emaciated, and so feeble as occasionally
to need help from my chair—my spirits fled—fled—but I can
no more on this subject. I beg you to use your utmost inte-
rest, and that of all your friends, to move our Commissioners
of Excise to grant me my full salary. If they do not grant
it, I must lay my account with an exit truly en peek—if I die
not of disease, I must perish with hunger.' The Excise re-
fused this last humble boon."

" Burns had formerly, when his hopes were higher and
his health good, made it almost a quarrel with Thomson that
he had sent him five pounds in acknowledgment of his songs.
His situation, in all'Tespects, was changed now: he had to
bend his proud heart to beg from the Excise the continuance
of his pay ; and he had to lay himself under obligations to
Stobie, who generously performed his duties gratis. He Lad
no money in his pocket, and scarcely any food in his house;
and, to aggravate these evils, one Williamson, to whom he
owed the price of the cloth of his volunteer regimentals,
threatened to sue him for the amount. The Poet was alarmed
at this ; and on the 12th of July wrote to Thomson, saying,
After my boasted independence, curst necessity compels me
to implore you for five pounds. A cruel haberdasher, to
whom I owe an account, taking it into his head that I am
dying, has commenced a process, and will infallibly put me in
gaol. Do, for God's sake, send me that sum, and that by re-
turn of post. Forgive me this earnestness ; but the horrors of
a gaol have made me half distracted.
" On the same day that Burns wrote to Thomson, he also
wrote to Mrs. Dunlop, and to his cousin, James Burness, of
Montrose. To the latter he said, A rascal of a haberdasher
believes that I am dying, and will infallibly put my emaciated
body in gaol. Will you be so good as accommodate me, and
that by return of post, with ten pounds ? 0, James, did you
know the pride of my heart, you would feel doubly for me.
Alas ! lam not used to beg. 0, do not disappoint me—save
me from the horrors of a gaol. To Mrs. Dunlop he said,
I have written to you so often without receiving any answer,
that 1 would not trouble you again but for the circumstances
in which I am. An illness which has long hung about me
in all probability will speedily send me beyond that bourne
whence no traveller returns.' Your friendship, with which
for many years you honoured me, was a friendship dearest to
my soul ; your conversation, and especially your correspond-
ence, were at once highly entertaining and instructive. With
what pleasure did I use to break up the seal ! The remem-
brance yet adds one pulse more to my poor palpitating heart.
Farewell !' "
• • • • • •

" Though Burns now knew that he was dying, his good
humour was unruffled, and his wit never forsook him. When
he looked up and saw Dr. Maxwell at his bedside,—' Alas !'
he sai,d ' what has brought you here ? lam but apoor crow,
and not worth plucking.' He pointed to his pistols, took them
in his hand, and gave them to Maxwell, saying they could not
be in worthier keeping, and he should never more have
need of them. This relieved his proud heart from a
sense of obligation. Soon afterwards he saw Gibson, one of
his brother volunteers, by the bed-side with tears in his eyes.
He smiled and said,—` John, don't let the awkward squad fire
over me.'

" His little household presented a melancholy spectacle: the
Poet dying; his wife in hourly expectation of being confined;
four helpless children wandering from aoom to room, gazing
on their miserable parents, and little of food or cordial kind to
pacify the whole or soothe the sick. To Jessie Lewars, all who
are charmed with the Poet's works are much indebted; she
acted with the prudence of a sister, and the tenderness of a
daughter, and kept desolation away, though she could not keep
disease.—` A tremor,' says Maxwell, `pervaded his frame;
his tongue, though often refreshed, became parched; and his
mind, when not roused by conversation, sunk into delirium.
On the second and third day after his return from The Brow,
the Lever increased, and his strength diminished. On the
fourth day, when his attendant held a cordial to his lips,
he swallowed it eagerly—rose almost wholly up—sprang for-
ward nigh the whole length of the bed—fell on his face and
expired. He was 37 years and seven months old, and of a
form and strength which romised long life ; but the great and
inspired are often cut down in youth, while—
' Villains ripen grey with time.' "

Before we close, we must say a few words of Burns
as a prose writer. Here, though he has occasion-
ally fine passages, full of strength and muscle, yet
his excellence is by no means of superior quality.
His letters abound in conceits—sounding phrase-
ology, which is neither prose nor poetry, but hovers
between both—far-fetched metaphors—and mise-
rable attempts at wit. He is perpetually attempting
to say something fine, and as perpetually miscarry-
ing. Mr. Allan Cunningham, we hope, will make
a judicious selection from his correspondence, and
not pitchfork it, wholesale, into his edition, as Dr.
Currie has done. Burns, as a poet, is all inspira-
tion ; Burns, as a prose writer, " is of the earth,
earthly"—little, if at all, superior to that mouther
of sounding common-places—Dr. Blair.

MR. LEECH'S BANKRUPTCY.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN.

Sir,—An article, under the above title, having appeared
in The Sun, stating " that several coffee-housekeepers
met at the Belle Sauvage Inn, and came to the resolution,
that any tradesman who supplied Mr. Leech with goods,
whether for cash or credit, should de deprived of their (the
coffee-house-keepers') custom," I state most distinctly, that
no such meeting ever took place in my house, nor elsewhere
that I know of.

I am, Sir, your obedient servant,
Belle Sauvage Inn, Jan 6. ROBERT NELSON.

We regret to learn that Sir John Tyrrell,
Bast., met with a serious accident, while hunting with
Colonel Conyers' hounds near Oogar, on Thursday. The
Hon. Baronet was thrown from his horse with consider-
able violence, but, though much bruised, he fortunately
esc sped without any fracture. He is, however, still suf-
fering pain, and is compelled to use crutches.—. Essex
Standard.

DEATH OF MR. SOTHEBY, THE POET.-
W. Sitheby, Esq., the poet, and author oh' Oberon,"
and the translator of Homer, died at his house in Lower
Grosvenor-street, on the 30th ult., aged '77. _ _

The plan intended to be adopted by ,c The
London, Holyhead, and Liverpool Steam• Coach and Road
Company," for improving the existing turnpike roads, is,
we understand, that for which Thomas Parkin, E•q•, of
Dudley, took out a patent in the year 1825 ; and for car-
rying this important object into effect a company, under
the title of " The National Stone-way Company," was
formed in London in that year ; but which, in conse-
quence of the succeeding panic, was abruptly dissolved.

OLD BAILEY SESSIONS-(THIS DAY.)

OLD COURT.
(Before the RECORDER and a London Jury.)

Philip Closson, an elderly man of respectable exterior, was
indicted for feloniously stealing, in the parish of St. Bride's,
2.0 sovereigns, the moneys of Robert Nelson, in his dwelling-
house.

Henry Andrews deposed that he was under-book-keeper at
the Belle Sauvage Coach-office, Ludgate-hill, and that on the
3d December last he missed a parcel from a sideboard, behind
a desk in the coach-office, which was a part of the same build-
ing as the hotel department, in which the prosecutor, Mr.
Nelson, resides. The parcel was directed to a Mary Bigmore,
Newington-place, Kennington, and there was no other parcel
of the same direction. Witness saw the prisoner in the book-
ing-office about twenty minutes or half an hour before he
missed the parcel, which witness placed on the sideboard be-
tween twelve and one o'clock in the day, and it was missed
between four and five o'clock. The prisoner came in about
four o'clock, and began to talk with theservants, warmed himself
at the fire, and at last got himself to the spot near which the
parcel was lying. No other strange person came near the
parcel except the prisoner, who used to call and inquire after a
situation. Witness has never seen the parcel since. It came
to the office by the Haverhill coach on the morning in question.

Mr. Samuel Bigmore deposed that he resided at Haverhill, in
Suffolk, and that he sent off', on the 21 December, a parcel di-
rected " Mary Bigmore, No. 1, Newington-place, Kennington
Common," and containing twenty sovereigns. It was made up
between two pieces of wood, rolled up in a newspaper, and in an
envelope of blue paper. Witness gave the parcel to the coach-
man at Haverhill. On the outside the witness wrote the words

" twenty pounds," but did not either book or insure the parcel.
Henry Andrews re-called, and cross.examined by Mr. C.
PHILLIPS, who defended the prisoner—The parcel had arrived
at the coach-office 24 hours before it was missed ; but it was safe
on the sideboard four hours before it was missed. There were
three fellow-servants and Mr. Edgell in the office in the course
of the day. Mr. Edgell is here, but not the three fellow-ser-
vants of witness. Did not notice the words or figures "twenty
pounds" upon the parcel.

Robert Tyrrell deposed that he took the prisoner into cus-
tody at the Brown Bear, Southwark, on the 4th of December.
Witness asked him if he had been at the Belle Sauvage on the
previous day. The prisoner replied he was there at about
four o'clock. Witness then told him that a robbery had been
committed: there, and that he (the prisoner) was suspected.
The prisoner answered that he knew nothing about it. Wit-
ness inquired if he had any objection to be searched. The
prisoner said, "No ; he would take the things mit of his
pocket." He then produced 19s. 6d. in silver from his
trousers' pocket, together with some halfpence and a knife,
and laid them on the table. He then threw open his clothes,
and said, " There, you may search me," at the same time
holding his fob pocket in his hand. Witness removed the
hand, and in the fob found IS sovereigns, which he said that
he had borrowed from his son, whom he had met that morning
in Castle-street, Holborn. His son, he said, was a clerk to a
law-stationer, but he is not here to day. Told witness that
he had not lent him the money. This the witness told the
prisoner, who said he should like to see his son,—they, how-
ever, were not confronted.
The prisoner, in his defence, said he was entirely innocent
of the crime imputed to him.
Mr. Hewitt, a Commander in the Royal Navy, had known
the prisoner eight years, and he bore the character of an
honest upright man.
Mr. John Osset, a merchant in the City of London, had
known the prisoner 28 years, and during that period had borne
an excellent character.

Two other witnesses deposed to the same effect.
The RECORDER summed up the case to the Jury, who with-
out hesitation acquitted the prisoner.
Ilenry.Smith was indicted for feloniously forging and uttering
a certain forged receipt for goods, with intent to defraud Elias
Moses on the 28th September, 1831.
Isaac Moses deposed that the prisoner was in his service as
porter, in the year 1831, when the witness was in partnership
with his father Elias Moses. On the 28th September witness
sent some parcels of slop clothes by the prisoner, directed to
Richard Lee, Huntingdon; another to John Hollingworth, Bir-
mingham ; and a third to W. Collins, Devizes. The prisoner was
to take the parcels, some to the three Cups Booking-office in Al-
dersgate-street, to the Talbot, Fore-street, and to the White
Horse. The prisoner brought back the parcel-book professing
to be signed by the clerks at the booking-offices. The value
of the goods was about 50!.

Thomas Raugley, clerk at the Three Cups booking-office,
proved that the signature in the parcel book produced, was
not in his hand-writing, nor in that of any other person em-
ployed at that time in the office. _

The prisoner put in a written defence, in which he stated
that he had intrusted the parcels for delivery to a friend whom
he had met in the street, and who being out of employ, asked
the prisoner for a job. In consequence of discovering that his
friend had deceived him, the prisoner through shame and
dread had absconded.

The RECORDER summed up the evidence to the Jury, who,
without hesitation, returned a verdict of Guilty.
The prisoner was then indicted for feloniously embezzling
the sum of 141., the moneys of Elias Moses, his master and
employer.
It appeared in evidence that the prisoner had been intrusted
by his master with a check for 141. Is. (id., to get cashed at the
banking house of Messrs. Barnett, Hoare, and Co., Lombard-
street, and that he absconded with the money.
The prisoner made the same defence as in the previous case,
attributing the robbery to the man he had also employed to get
the cash checked.

The Jury immediately pronounced a verdict of Guilty, and
the Recorder sentenced the prisoner to be, on the first in.
dictment, imprisoned, and kept to hard labour for two years,
and on the second indictment to be transported for seven years.
James Stevens was indicted for unlawfully breaking and en.
tering, on the 7th November, the dwelling-house of Charles
Sawyers, with intent to commit a felony.
It appeared from the evidence of the prosecutor's clerk,
that, on the day named in the indictment, he heard a noise at
the office door, as if some one was playing with the key, and
presently the door was opened gently by the prisoner, and on
seeing witness he asked if Mr. Smith was at home. Witness
replied no such person liVed there; upon which the prisoner
ran away, and pursued by the witness, and eventually secured
and brought back. In the door a key was found, which had
been stolen some time before, together with the key of the safe.
Mr. STAMMERS, who defended the prisoner, interrupted the
examination. He contended that the witness had no right to
Assume that the key had been stolen.

The RECORDER-DO not interfere, Sir, in this part of the
case. Pray sit down, Sir.
Mr. STAMMERS-But, my Lord, the witness assumes—

The RECORDER—Sit down, Sir : it is most irregular to inter-
rupt the case in this manner. The witness has said nothing
but that which he says he believes to be correct.

The witness proceeded to depose, that on the prisoner being
brought back he stood with his back to the fire-place, and with
his hands behind him, and a noise was heard similar to that
which would be produced by a key falling or being thrown
against the grate, and on the same evening a key was found by
the witness in the fireplace, which proved to be the key of
the safe, which had been stolen two months before. A green
bag and a chisel were found upon his person.

Mr. STAMMERS addressed the jury on behalf of the defendant.
The RECORDER summed up the evidence to the jury, who,
without much deliberation, returned a verdict of Guilty, and
the prisoner was forthwith sentenced to be imprisoned and kept
to hard labour in the House of Correction for two years.

NEW COURT.
(Before the COMMON SERGEANT.)

Henry Cox, a respectable young man in appearance, was
indicted for embezzling 10/. the property of his master, Mr.
James Dignam, a solicitor. The embezzlement of W. 7s. was
clearly proved, the prosecutor positively swearing that the pri-
soner told him he had paid the money to Mr. Waters, an
officer of the King's Bench, for Court fees, and that gentleman
swearing as positively that he had not.
The prisoner read a pathetic and well written defence, in
which, while he admitted that his conduct might have been
characterized with impudence and thoughtlessness, he posi-
tively denied that he had any design to rob or injure the pro-
secutor.

The COMMON SERGEANT charged the Jury, who, after a
short consultation, found the prisoner Guilty, but very
strongly recommended him to mercy, believing that it was his
intention to return the money.
The COMMON..SERGEANT concurred with the Jury in that
opinion; but he was afraid there were such strong circum-
stances against the prisoner that the recommendation could
not be attended to. He had been informed that two former
masters of the prisoner, named Spencer and Smith, had simi-
lar charges against him.
On the Learned JUDGE asking the prisoner if he thought
those gentlemen would say anything in his favour, he said he
thought Mr. Spence would.

The COMMON-SERGEANT—Then I think the sooner you get
him here the better for yourself; for if he does not say some-
thing material in your favour you will be transported.
The prisoner was tried in the Old Court on Saturday, on
the charge of forging a receipt, and acquitted, as he was this
morning upon an indictment charging him with stealing 101.
WHOLESALE ROBBERY OF PLATE.—John Stone was indicted
for stealing, on the 3d of December, plate of the value of 300/.
and upwards, the property of John Mitchell, Esq., a Russian
merchant, of Charles-street, Berkeley-square, in whose service
the prisoner had been a few days as under butler.
Mr. ADOLPHUS, with whom was Mr. PHILLIPS, stated the
case for the prosecution.

Robert Bell, examined by Mr. Phillips—Was in the service
of Mr. Mitchell, as butler, who resided at 42, Charles-street,
Berkeley.square. The prisoner was under butler and had been
so 10 days. The plate was kept in the pantry, and on the day
in question having occasion to go into the city, left the prisoner
i n care of the plate, which was in a press and chest. All the
plate was safe on the Sunday. Before he went out on the Tues-
day saw the plate in general use, quite safe. Left the pri-
soner in the pantry when he went out. Orr the Monday
previous the prisoner asked witness if a cover which he was
cleaning was silver. Witness said it was. The prisoner re.
plied he could not see the stamp. 'Witness said that two of
the covers were English silver and the other two were foreign.
The prisoner asked which was the best. Witness replied English
was allowed to be the best. On the Sunday he asked witness if
the trays were silver, to which he said they were not, but the
edges were. When witness went into the City the prisoner
told him he need not hurry, as he would take care there should
be nothing to do when he came back, Witness returned

SMITHFIELI
This day's supply of Beasts at
of Calves and Porkers limited,

out, at the following prices:-

,ID hIARKET.
nd Sheep was moderately good,
and the trade was dull through.

PRICES PER STONE OF 81.

BS. TO SINK THE OFFALS.

s. d. to s. d. s. d. s.(l
Inferior Beasts 2 2 2 4 Large Lambs 0 0 0 C
Second quality ditto 2 6 3 2 Prime small ditto 0 0 0
Prime large Oxen... 3 8 310 Large coarse Calves 310 4 6
Prime Scots, &c. 4 0 4 4 Prime small ditto 410 5 6
Inferior Sheep 2 6 3 0 Large Hogs
Second quality ditto 3 6 4 2 Small Porkers 4 0 4 4
Coarse-woolled ditto 4 6 4 8 Suckling Calves 10 to 284 each
Southdown Wethers 410 5 2 QuarteroldPigs Ws. to 18s.eitch
SUPPLY, AS PER CLER S STATEMENT.
Beasts. Sheep. I
Calves. Pigs.
I I 2,516 16,770 90 220
About 1100 of the beasts came up the St. Alban's road ; about
500 up the other northern roads; about 100 (including Irish)
from the western and midland districts ; about 7 0 from Nor-
folk, Suffblk, Essex, and Cambridgeshire ; about 60 from Kent
and Sussex ; and most of the remainder from the marshes, &c.
in the neighbourhood of London.