The Sun.
London, England, 1857-07-06 00:00:00

biter unhappiness. lam humble before you, and crave
your mercy. Yon can give me forgiveness, and von—
oh, you only—can make me happy tor +-lie rest of my
life. I would not a<k yo❑ to love me ~r ever ~,ake ine
your wife. I ant too guilty for t I have cleceiv (1
and told you too many falsehoods for you ever to respect
me. But, oh! will you not keep my secret from the
world ? Oh, you will not for Chri-t's sake, denounce
me. I shall be undone. I shall he ruined. Who would
trust me ? Shame will be my lot. Despise me, hate me,
hut make me not the publm scandal. Forget me forever.
Blot out all remembrance of me. I have used you ill.
I did love you, and it was my soul's ant,bition to be your
wife. I asked you to tell me my faults. You did so,
and it made ins cool towards you gradually, When
you have found fault wi,h me I have cooled. It was
not love for another, for there is no one I love. My I.)ve
has all been given to you, My heart is empty—cold. I
am unloved, lam despised. I told you I had ceased to
love you—it was true. I did not love as I did ; but,
oh ! till within the time of our coming to town I loved
you fondly. I longed to be your wife. I had fix-d
February. I Linged for it. The time I could not leave
my father's house, I grew discontented ; then I ceased
to love you. Oh, Emile, this is indeed the true state-
ment. Now you can know my state of mind Emile, I
have suffered much for you: I lost much of ny father's
cotifide-ce since that September ; and my mother has
never been the same to me. No, she has never given
me the same kind look. For the sake of my mother—
her who gave me life—spare me from shame. Oh Emile
you will, in God's name, bear my prayer ? I ask God to
forgive me. I have prayed that he might put it in your
heart to spare me from shame. Never, never, while I
live can Ibe happy. No, no, I shall always have the
thought I deceived you. I am guilty ; it will be a
punishment I shall bear to the day of my death. I am
humbled thus to crave your pardon, but I dare not.
While I have breath I shall ever think of you as my
best friend, if you will only keep this between ourselves.
I blush to ask you. Yet Emile, will you not giant me
this my last favour?—if you will never reveal what has
passed. Oh, for God's sake, for the love of heaven, hear
me. I grow mad. I have been ill, very ill, al day. I
have had what has given me a false spirit. I had resort
to what I should nut have taken, but my brain is one
fire. I feel as if death would indeed be sweet. De-
nounce me not. Emile, Emile, think of our once happy
days. Pardon me if you can : pray for me as the most
wretched, guilty, miserable creature on the earth. I could
stand anything but my father's hot displeasure, Emile,
you will not cause my death. If he is to get your Leiters
I cannot see him any more ; and my poor mother, I will
never more kiss her. It would be a shame to them all.
Emile, will you not spare me this? Hate me, despise me,
but do not ,xpose me. I cannot write more. lam too
ill to-night."

No. -ill, postmarks illegible and date uncertain :
"Dearest S e, I am so son), to hear you
are ill. I hope to God you will soon be better. Take
care of yourself. Do not go to the office this week, just
stay at home till Monday. Sweet love, it will please me
to bear yi a are well. Do not come and walk about, and
become ill again. You did look bad on Sunday night and
Monday morning. I think yr.o got sick with walking
home so late, and the long want of food, so the next time
we meet I shall make you eat a loaf of bread before
you go out. I am longing to meet again, sweet love.
We shall by so happy. I have a bad pen—excuse this
scroll—and B. is near me. I cannot write at night now.
My head aches so, and I am looking so bad that I cannot
sit up as I used to do; but I am taking some stuff to
bring back the colour. I shall see you soon again. Put
up with this short note for a little time. When I feel
stronger you shall have long ones. Adieu, Thy love,
my pet, my sweet Emile. A fond, dear, tender love, and
sweet embrace. Ever, with love, your., "Nli3ii."
No. 113, postmark, "Glasgow, Feb. 27, 1857 :"
"My dear, sweet Emile,—l cr,nnot see you this week,
and I can fix no time to meet you. Ido hope you are
better. We go, I think, to Stirlinglingshire about the
10th \larch, fo. a fortnight. Excuse this short note,
sweet love. With much fond tender love and kisses, and
believe me to be yours, with love, " MIMI "
No. 117, postmark, "Glasgow, March 4, 1857 :"
"Dearest Emilie,--I have just time to write you a
line. I could not come to the window as B. and M. were
there, but I saw you. If you would take my advice you
,would go to the south of England for ten days; it would
do you much good. Infant, sweet pet, it would make you
feel quite well. Do try and do this. You will please me
by getting strong and well again. I hope you wont go to
B. of Allan, as P. and M. would say it was I brought you
there, and it would make me feel very unhappy. Stirling
you need not go to. It is a nasty, dirty little town. Go
to the Isle of Wight. lam exceedingly sorry, love, that'
I cannot see you ere I go. It is impossible ; but the first
thing I do on my return will be to see you, sweet lave.
I must stop, as it is post time. So adieu, with love and
kisses, and much love. I am, with love and affec; ion,
" M nun"
ever yours,

No. 119 was a copy of a letter in deceased's band
writing, taken by a copying machine. Its reception
was objected to by the prisoner. A debate took place,
and the judges by a majority decided that it was
admissible in evidence, leaving its authenticity and
vAlue to be determined by the jury, It was as
follows :

" Glasgow, March 5.
"My Dear Sweet Pet Mimi,—l feel indeed very vexed
that the answer I received yesterday to mine of Tuesday
to you should prevent me fr,rn sending you the kind letter
I had ready for you. You must not blame me for this,
but rtaly your c,ld, indifferent, and reserved notes, so
short, without a particle of love in them (especially after
pledging your word you were to write me kindly for
those letters you asked me to destroy), and the manner
you evaded answering the questions I put to you in my
last, with the many reports I hear, fully convince me,
Mimi, that there is foundation in your marriage with
another. Besides, the way you put off our union till
September, without a just reason, is very suspicious. I
do not think Mimi, dear, that Mrs. Anderson would
say your mother told her things she had not ; and really
I could never believe Mr. Houldsworth would be guilty of
telling a falsehood for mere talking. No, Mimi, there is
foundation for all this. You often go to Mr. M.'s house,
and common sense would lead any one to believe that if
you were not on the tooting reports sayyou are you would
avoid going near his friends. I know he goes with you,
or at least meta you in Stirlingshire. My dear, place
yourself in my poshion, and tell me I am wrong in be-
lieving what I hear. I was happy the last time we met
—yes, very happy. I was forgetting all the past, but
now it is again beginning. Mimi, I insist upon having
an explicit answer to the questi ins you evaded in my
last. If you evade answering them this time, I must
try some other means of coming to the truth. If not
answered in a satisfactory manner, you mu-t not expect
I shall again write you personally, or meet you when
you return home. Ido not wish you to answer this at
random. I shall wait for a day or so if you require it.
I know you cannot write me from Stirliegshire, as the
time you have to write me a letter is occupied in doing
so to others. There was a time when you w •ulti have
found plenty of time. Answer me this, Muni—who
gave you the trinket you showed me ; is it true it was
Mr. Minnoch? And is it true that you are directly or
indirectly engaged to Mr. Minnoch, or to any one the
but me. These questions I must know. The doctor
says I must go to the Bridge of Allan. I cannot
trav,l 500 miles to the Isle of Wight and 500 back.
What is your object in wishing me so very much to go
south I may not go to the Bridge of Allan till Wed-
nesday ; if I can avoid going I shall do so for your
sake. I shall wait to hear from you. I h,,pe, dear,
nothing will happen to check the happiness we were
again enjoying. May God bless you, pet, and with fond
and under embraces, believe me, with kind love, your
ever affectionate husband,

"EMILE L'ANGELIER.

No. 123 ; postmark, " Bridge of Allan, 10th
of March, 1857" (reached Glasgow at 5.30 p.m.)
"My own best loved Pet,—l hope you are will. I
am very well, but it is such a cold place. Far colder
than in town. I have never been warm since I came
here. There are very few people that we know staying
in the village. Have you ever been here, my own dear
little pet ? I hope, sweet one, it may make you feel
wed and strong again, and that you will not be ill
all the summer. Y“u must try and keep w.ll for my
sake ; wi l you, my own dear little Emile ? You
love
me, do you not ? Yes, Emile, I know you do.
We
go to Perth this week to see some friends. I am
Vinburgh the end of this month. B. will, I
the front door ; but you would
gthoiinnkg,tgoo too, I saw you pass the morning we left, and
nyooto,lohotkileuplo,ve, flossing
and I d,d not know where you were going
to. We shall be home Monday or Tuesday. I s'ash
write yop, sweet love, when we shall have an interview,
I long to see you—to kiss and embrace you, my only
sweet love. ICiss me, sweet one, my love, my own dear,
sweet, little pet. I know your kindness will forgive me
if I do not write you a long letter ; but we are just going
to the train to meei friends from the north. So I shall
conclude with much love, tender embraces, and fond
kisses. Sweet love, adieu.
" Ever, with love, yours, MIMI."

No. 125 ; postmark, " liridge of Allan, March
13, 1857" (reached Glasgow 0.45 same night):—
"Dearest and beloved,—l hope yell are well. lam
very well, and anxious to get home to see you, sweet
one. It is cold, and we nave had snow 0,11 he week,
which is most disagreeable. I feel better since we came
here. I think we shall be home on Tuesday, so I shall
let you know, my own beloved sweet pet, when we ;hall
have a dear, sweet interview, when I may be pres Fed
your heart, and kissed by you, my own sweet love. A
fond, tender embrace ; a kiss, sweet love. I hope you
I will enjoy your visit re. Y'.o will find it so dull ; •no
one here we know, and I (lon% fancy you will find any
friends, as they are all .trangers, and don't appear nice
people. lam longing to see you, sweet one of my heart,
my only love. I wish we had not come here for another
month, as it would have been so much nicer • it would
then be warm. I think if you could wait a little it would
do you more good ;' but you know best when you can
get away. Adieu, my own love, my own sweet pet. A
kiss, dear love, a tender embrace,: love and kisses.
Adieu, ever yours, with love and.fond kisses.
se I am, ever yours,
" Mimr."
No. 133 is a letter to Mr. Minnoch, with the
postmark, ,4 Stirling, 16th of March, 1857"
"My dearest William,--IL is but fair after your kind-
ness to me that I should write you a note. The day I
paps from friends I always feel sad ; but to part from
one I love, as Ido you, makes me feel truly sad and
dull. My only consolation is that we meet soon again.
To-morrow we shall be home. Ido so wish you were
here to-day. We might take a long walk. Our walk
to Dunblane I shall ever remember with pleasure. That
walk fixed a day on which we are to begin a new life--
a life which I hope may be of happiness and long dura-
tion to both of us. My aim through life shall be to
please and study you. Dear William, I cons., conclude,
as mamma is ready to go to Stirling. I do not go with I
the same pleasure as I did the last time. I hope you got