The Sun.
London, England, 1845-08-19 00:00:00

THE ITN, LONDON, TUESDAY MORNTNG, AUGUST 10, 1845.

Dividend.

3,002
54,833
3,000
9,347
25,788

37,218
20,556

16,883
16,370
5,571
18,209
119,795

27,154
7,024
22,725
2,551

8,847

21,447
2,072
35,612
48,011
11,292
10,961
9,896
5,176
8,676
9,340

4,800

3,678
21,378
25,836
5, 179
-

19,047

35,687

2,773
37,633
33,853
28,662
86,959
8,175
3,309

7,371
16,661
1,000
12,503
20,725
2,500
12,196
53,239
134,481
2,802
44,685
56,936
20,272

LAW INTELLIGENCE.

COURT OF BANKRUPTCY. Aug. 18.
THE SMALL DEBTS BILL.
Mr. Commissioner FONBLANQUE was employed during
the morning in hearing causes under the Small Debts'
Bill, which passed the Legislature at the close of the
past session.
The summonses were of the most unimportant character,
and only deserve notiee from the fact that this was the
first day on which they come under the cognisance of
the court.

BUCHANAN V. GREEN.

The defendant in thi4 case was a master tailor, em-
ploying " no men," and he was indebted in the sum of
141. some odd shillings, to the plaintiff, an attorney,
being the balance of former costs, with recent costs
added.

The Learned COMMISSIONER having ascertained that
the defendant could earn from 383. to 21. a-week, and
that he rented a house of 361. per annum, ordered him
to pay monthly instalments of 11., till the debt should
be liquidated.
The Commissioner cautioned debtors that they were
liable to imprisonment for forty days, on failure of each
instalment.

The remaining cases were similarly uninteresting.

ASSIZE INTELLIGENCE.

NORTHERN ClRCUlT.—Liverpool, Aug. 15.

CROWN COURT.—(Before Mr. Baron ROLFE).
Thomas Whittle was indicted for a highway robbery
Ince, in Mackerfield, on the 18th of April last.
Mr. Cross conducted the prosecution ; the prisoner
was defended by Mr. Wilkins.
The prosecutor was a person of the name of Oakes,
who is parish clerk at the church of Hindley, and who
stated on the day in question he had been at Wigan
market, and on starting to go home he missed his way
at a place called the Scholes. He met the prisoner, and
asked him his way. The prisoner directed him to it,
and accompanied him to a public-house kept by a per-
son of the name of Greenwood, where they had some
ale, and the prosecutor produced a sovereign. They left
the house together, and, as the prosecutor alleged, after
they had got a few yards from the door, the prisoner
knocked him down, robbed him, and ran away. The
prosecutor did not immediately go back to Greenwood's,
but went on his way home. The next morning he came
again to Wigan, gave information to the police, and as-
certained at Greenwood's who the person was who had
been in bis company the night before. On cross-exami-
nation he admitted he had had a good deal to drink, but
considerable difficulty wt.s experienced in fixing the
;reds° stage among the many degrees of intoxication at
which he had arrived. He at last admitted that he was
" market merry."
Mr. WILKINS addressed the jury for the defence,
contending that the whole history of the case was, that
the prosecutor, though he as parish clerk was naturally
unwilling to admit it, had got drunk, and had probably
been robbed by some one ; and on ascertaining who had
been with him the night before at the public-house had
fixed on that party, not really having any very distinct
recollectidri of when or where he had been lightened of
his property.
Verdict, Not Guilty.

James Hunter was charged with killing and slaying
John Yates, at Walton-on-the-Hill, on the sth of the
present month.
Mr. Hullo!' prosecuted, and Mr. Wilkins appeared for
the prisoner.
It appeared from the evidence of a woman named
Mary Rogerson, that on the night of the sth of August
she and the deceased left Walton for Liverpool, about 9
o'clock. They were on their way home ab ,ut 11 o'clock,
and as they passed along Mere-lane they met a hackney -
coach, when the deceased called out to the coachman,
and some angry words passed. The coachman then got
down from the coach and beat the deceased, who at
length called out that he had been struck by something
harder than his fists. She then went to the man, got
hold of him by the ear. and requested he would desist,
on which he left the deceased, got on his coach, and
drove off. The witness said she believtql the prisoner to
be the man who had beaten the deceased, but on being
asked to point out the prisoner, was a long time before
she fixed on the right party. After the each drove off
the witness went for assistance, and the deceased was
found lying in the lane quite dead.
Mr. N. S. Glazebrook, surgeon, deposed to making a
post mo -tem examination of the body of the deceased ;
that he found a fracture of the skull above the left eye,
and the deceased had died from effusion of blood on the
brain.
It was proved that the prisoner had on the night in
question driven a Mr. Allanson to his house, in Walton-
lane, that he reached his stables about half-past eleven
o'clock, and stated that he had been insulted by a person
on the road, whom he had struck with his whip.
The jury, after being out of Court two hours, pro-
nounced the prisoner Guilty, but recommended him to
rmrcy on the ground of the provocation he had received.
The Learned JUDGE sentenced the prisoner to be im-
prisoned and kept to hard labour for the space of four ca-
lendar months.

110.11 E CI RC UlT.—Croydon, August 16.
COOKE V. WETHERELL, CLERK.
The following are copies of the letters alluded to by the
Learned Counsel. The first is a letter from the defendant to his
daughter :
"20th October, 1542.
" My dearest Mary—Oh, how terrific is that storm which
has arisen against your unhappy father. Where will these
things end 2 fly health is marvellously good, but my
Reece of mind is like the steam from the vessel—gone for ever.
Pray write one line to say you are well. Alas 1 you cannot
say you are happy. We fall together. Give it to our friend
Hutchings, who will send it to Nesbitt, who will soon know
where to address THE WRETCH."
The second is from the plaintiff to his wife :
s, Clifford-street, Sunday Night, Nov. 27.
" I fear you have wrongly estimated the motives that have
induced me to seek an interview with you. So honest has
been my intention, so true the conviction on my mind that I
was doing right, 1 now doubt my own senses, and think I am
incapable of judging for myself.' I will now recal all that has
happened since this unfortunate night five weeks, and without
mentioning every day, I will allude to one or two on which
events have happened that have weighed greatly on my mind.
That I was unkind, nay cruel, in leaving you, is most true. I
acted unjustly up to the day I sent Mrs. Parsons to you. The
message she brought to you was sent with the most sincere hope
of the first step to a reconciliation. Your acknowledgment
was dictated in cold politeness, together with a promise that you
wculd write to me on the morrow. Alas, the morrow ! but
no reply. 'Tyres looked for, but in vain; the reason was, I
take it, your father would not let you write. From that day
I have not heard from you. You leave London, return to
town, go to 13)field, and again return to London, but not a
syllable is breathed to me. Think you, then, all this time that
you are forgotten, that in seven weeks I have ceased to love,
and buried in oblivion the sole object and adoration of my
thoughts for months past? You little know me. What hap-
pens in the meantime? On Saturday, before I called on you
in Welback-street, and afterwards at Illivart's, the agent of
Mr. John Attwood calls, relates net only what has passed
between us, but is absolutely in possession of every movement
of yours ; nay, more, the contents of your very letters, from
the Monday on which you promised to write to me up to the
time of his calling., and quietly winds up his story by snaking
the disgusting proposition of Mr. Attwood (through the influ-
ence of Mr. Wetherell), lending himself to obtain a divorce,
and an Act of Parliament, to enable me to marry again, pro-
vided I would commit adultery 1 The man will prove my
answer. God knows my suffering; and, as if the draught was
not yet bitter enough, an intimainn was thrown out, in an
indirect manner, that you were privy to the proposition. I
know no more. I waited anxiously for your coming to town,
and on Manday night I called twice in Welbeck-street,
to comniunicate this heart-breaking intelligence, and had
it been your wish, rather than you should be miserable
for having married me, I would have sacrificed my character
as a man, and my honour as a gentleman, and allowed
myself to be adjudged a convicted villain by the highest caurt
of adjudication in the world. Friday you were not at Wel-
beck-street ; on the Tuesday I called at Mivari's : you know
the result. On the Wednesday (informed I am) you are mak-
ing arrangements to go abroad with your father, and that he
has extracted a solemn oath from you that you will never live
' with me. Is this so? Well, the consequence has been I have
been up night and day seeking for you. What greater proof of
affection can be shown than I sacrifice everything ? I risk a!!
rather than lose you. Am Ito be blamed for using every pos-
sible means of recovering the dearest object of my life? Re-
flect for one little moment, and see whether the means that
hare been used to prevent my seeing you have not justly added
to my suspicions. If the severest feelings could recom-
vense you fur past irnpetuosities, if the sufferings of
my bleeding heart could be imagined, some slight
reciprocity would, I think, be evinced to console my
distracted mind. I have to-day for the first time been told
of many improvident things that have happened through
the inadvertency of thoughtless distraction. I have been too
careless. I have no one to make an excuse, no friend to ex-
tenuate my conduct. There is only one thing I shall reproach
you for, and that was your coldness, and which you have con-
tinued to carry out to a heart-breaking extreme. It would be
folly for me to advise others, when seemingly Ido not act ju-
diciously myself. The time may come when your father may
not so contemptuously disregard my advice. The settlement
will be got ready as soon as possible. The only thing we shall
have to wait for now will be your trustee. Pray send word
who this is to be. The lady with whom I had some conversa-
tion this afternoon promised to send this to you ; or, I should
rather say , give it to you, for lam sure you were in the
house. I have been so deceived of late I almost doubted to
trust her ; but many things she said led me to believe
she was 'a kind. good woman. She, like you, seemed
most sespit:ious of my character. I trust you will re•
main with her, for it gives me the greatest pain to mention
that I have. heard you have been obliged to put up with the
worst of lodgings during the last week. Rest assured on my
word you shall not be intruded on in any way. I would faiu say
the same to your father. I trust you will write to me. I send
you your brooch, which I forgot to. day. I trust to God you
will yet be happy, and have the greatest reason to believe the
sincere and heartfelt expressions of affection of your most sin
cere, devoted, and affectionate husband. I have received a note
from you to.day. Do not pessist in saying you do not wish to
communicate before the settlement. A few kind expressions
from you may give slumbers to a sleepless pillow."

The following is the answer .
" 28th November, 1842.

49,289
32,024

10,527

257,020

80,448
27,611
5,068
2,500

22,589
94,682

5,025
15,261

James Fletcher, who had been out on bail, was charged
with having maliciously cut and injured a warp belong-
ing to his employers, Messrs. John Walker and Co., of
Leigh, with intent to &stroy it.
Mr. Monk conducted the prosecution; the prisoner was
defended by Mr. Joseph Pollock.
It appeared from the evidence that the prisoner was
in the habit of weaving for Messrs. Walker, but about
the 16th of January last had a dispute with his employ-
ers respecting wages ; that on that day he had a warp
an I chute to weave for the prosecutors, and had cut the
warp with a pair of scissors.
A Ferson'namtd Houghton swore to seeing the pri-
soner do this, and a number of other witnesses were
called to depose to other facts, and to the prisoner having
returned the warp with part of it cut.
Mr. PoLLocx took an objection to the indictment, on
the ground that it was not supported by the evidence,
as, unless the warp was entirely rendered useless, any
injury done to it was not within the meaning of the
statute. _ _ .

if lam honest with you. My heart is fast sinking under all
these heavy trials, and I may find it necessary to seek country
air. I shall still be obliged to send my letters to Mrs. Kett.
Should some delay occur, do not put it to the score of inatten-
tion. lam very glad you are convinced my dear father had
nothing to do with the divorce matter. I hope that in time
you will be convinced you have wrongly judged him in other
matters. May God bless you, my dear husband, and enable you
soon to believe me to be your devotedly attached wife,
" December 5, 1842." " M. E. MYNDE COOKE.
The next is a letter written by the defendant to the plaintiff
after the Chancery suit had concluded :
" Byfield Rectory, January 9, 1843.
" Sir—As you have intimated to my daughter your wish to
come to Byfield, and she has expressed to me her determina-
tion not to meet you for any purpose whatever, you place me
in the painful position of being obliged to forbid you my house,
whether my daughter be in it or not, and I hereby accordingly
forbid you my house—Your obedient servant,
" CHARLES WETHERELL."
The three following letters were also sent by the plaintiff's
wife to her husband:—

His LORDSIIIP, however, ruled that it was a question
fur the consideration of the jury as to whether the injury
done to the warp was done with the intention of destroy-
ing it.
Mr. PoLLocx addressed the jury on behalf of the pri•
soner, and called witnesses, who contradicted, in the
most direct manner, the evidence for the prosecution, one
of whom stated that the injury done to the warp had
been done by accident.
The jury eventually acquitted the prisoner.
August 16.
George Goshen was indicted for hevinv, at Little
Lever, stabbed, cut, and wounded John Nelson, with
intent to do him some grievous bodily harm.
Mr. Porenocx conducted the prosecution ; Mr. Wilkins
defended the prisoner.
It appeared that the prisoner and the prosecutor were
miners, and some quarrel having taken place between
them—on what ground did not exactly appear—they
finally came to blows. The prosecutor, who evidently
seemed anxious to screen the prisoner, stated that he (the
prosecutor) kicked at him se% eral times; that the prisoner
took out his knife to defend himself ; that he (the pro-
secutor) rushed on him, arid that the knife wounded
him (the prosecutor) in the groin, but he believed acci-
dentally. Another witness said that, on the quarrel
commencing, the prosecutor rushed past him up to where
the prisoner was standing, but he could not tell whether
or not any blows were then struck. He saw the pri-
soner take out his knife and hold it up before him,
as a dagger. The prosecutor said, using some coarse
expression, "Do you mean to use that at me ?" The
prisoner replied, " If you wish to punch out my
guts I will." The prosecutor then danced back-
wards and forwards before the prisoner, some-
times on one side and sometimes on the other,
erdeavouring to get an opportunity to kick him,
and finally purred (kicked) him on the right side. Wit-
ness called out, " Oh, boys, do drop it." The prosecu-
cutor, as the witness said, looked so " rash," he would
listen to no reason, and ran in at the prisoner again.
The prisoner stood his ground, and the prosecutor made
another punch at him, " quite ravenous," with both hands
and feet. When that scuffle was over, witness then saw
that prosecutor had a cut in his trousers. The prisoner,
on being told that prosecutor was wounded, cried very •
much, and said to witness, " Oh dear me, beg me off.
I'll pay all costs, and whatever it is, if life is spared."
Shortly after this occurred the prisoner went to the
house of a person who lived near, and said he had struck
Nelson. He then sent a lad to throw his knife down an
old coal pit.
From the statement of the surgeon it appeared that
the knife had wounded the prosecutor in the groin, pe-
netrating the cavity of the abdomen. The wound was
in a dangerous place, but the result proved not to be
serious.
Mr. WILKINS addressed the jury for the defence, con-
tending that the wound had been inflicted, as the prose-
cutor himself said, accidentally, the knife haring been
drawn by the prisoner merely for the purpose of deterring
the prosecutor from the further continuing the brutal
violence which he, a much more powerful man than the
prisoner, was using towards him.
Verdict—Not Guilty.
Ross M'Cracker, aged 13 ; Valentine Dunn, aged 10 ;
and Henry Ingram, aged 10, were indicted fur horse-
stealing.
Air. James conducted the case for the prosecution ;
the prisoner M'Cracker was defended by Mr. Atkinson,
and Ingram and Dunn by Mr. J. Pollock.
The three lads presented a singular appearance when
placed at the bar as horse-stealers ; Ingram and Dunn
especially looked quite as young as their years, and their
heads hardly reached above the edge of the dock.
It appeared that the prisoners were resident in Sal-
ford. One John Preston, who also resides there, had, in
the early part of June last, received a black gelding
from a person of the name of Woodcock, in exchange
for a bay horse. This gelding, about the 14th of June,
vas sent to graze in a field in the neighbourhood, where
i fremained until the 17th. On the evening of that day
it was missed, and it appeared that in the course of that
lay the prisoners were in possession of it, and took it to
the yard of a knacker called Padmore, where they offered
it for 15s. 6d. This was refused, and they subsequently
sold it to a person living close by for 12s. It was killed
n the yard. Inquiry 'Zing made for the missing horse,
if proved that it had been so sold byt he prisoners, and
the shoes were identified as having been put on a few
days before the exchange took place with Preston. They
were of a very peculiar shape, to meet some defect in
the foot. and had the maker's name sta:nped upon them.
The horse was worth 3/.

" My dear husband—Your expressions of sorrow and affec-
tion do indeed make no small impression on your poor wife, and
shall have due weight with her. I cannot help saying that you
mistrust my affection for you, or why say again that any one has
the power to influence me:in'my conduct ? I surely gave you
proof enough to the contrary of this when I ran away with you;
and since last Sunday week I have written, and assured you I
acted on my own judgment. When I mention the country I bind
myself to no particular spot I have invitations from friends. But
allow me to say that when I went to Byfield it was after being
told by you that the apartments were no longer at my ser-
vice. I was therefore at liberty to seek the protection of my
natural guardian. I was told by Mrs. Kett that your objec-
tion to my going to Byfield is, that when last I went my letters
were altered. I will now tell you plainly what it was that
altered my tone towards you. fit was that, contrary to your
solemn oath and promise to me that you would not, you put
matters into Chancery. Long before you deserted me I told
you if ever you went into Chancery I would never forgive you.
I repeated it to Mr. Parsons on the Saturday ; and on the
Monday you broke the solemn oath and promise you made to
the wife you now implore not to leave town, when her health
reqeires it, betause she may be further estranged from you.
What can I do or say? I would yield ; but then, although
you promise to give up all for me, your actions do not prove it.
Look at the name of Waddy still retained as trustee, not-
withstanding my wish it should be erased, and a disinterested
party named. You have heard I intended nominating Cor-
field. But I beg to say it is quite untrue. I ask you not to
put it to the score of inattention if, because I go into the
country, my letters are delayed. You deny me this.
That you are deeply distressed for your treatment to
me I feel thoroughly persuaded of ; your feelings are always in
extremes, and I do sincerely pity and grieve over you, and
will, as soon as I see I may with safety, try again to be your
companion and friend kin that peculiar link of a wife to a hus-
band. The sentiments expressed in my letters do not say I
dislike you so much that I will never see you again. Were we
to meet now we could not avoid discussion. We should not
agree. Well, then, is it not better that when we meet there
should be no ground of dispute? Surely you must see I wish
when we meet that nothing should prevent our being happy in
the enjoyment of each other's society. In the meantime let
us try and prepare to suit each other better than before. You
say Ido not forgive you. Wait a little, and you will see that
pride does not actuate me. I have told you that it is your
broken word to me as your wife. It often takes a short time
to do wrong ; but, however we struggle or complain, we cannot
repair the evil so quickly. I again repeat, convince my judg-
ment, and then I will see you. It is quite as painful for me to
be obliged to say so as it is for you to wait patiently and per-
form it. If you send me any money I will put it to no im-
proper use. It must strike you I want money for many other
purposes than that of going out of town. You ask me to
be honest with you. Well, then, let me tell you. that did you
mistrust your own power more, I should have morehope of yen.
You feel assured you could please me. But I shall not scruple
to tell you that a very great change must take place first.
We are never acting with so much propriety as when we
doubt ourselves. May God influence and direct you, and
keep you from running into these extremes, is the earnest
prayer of your affectionate wife,
"10th of December, 1812." " M. E. M. COOKE.
" My dear Husband—Your intended trip to Brighton will,
I hope, be the means of diverting your mind from the dis-
tracting scenes which have lately occurred. It would give
me great pleasure if I could feel secure in either remaining in
one spot, or letting you know where I am ; but ever since last
Sunday fortnight my nerves have been much shook; so much
so, as that I dare not let you know my residence. I am
so alarmed from day to day, and from moment to
moment, that I know not where to fly, and am
continually contriving fresh places of security. My
expenses have been very heavy. I have been
put to every possible inconvenience—my wardrobe scattered,
my mind distracted, and my health sinking. It will, • I fear,
take some time to allay my apprehensions. Through your
clerk I have received 5(11. He says you have a sprained wrist.
I hope it is not seriously hurt. I wish you to understand that
I did not know Mrs. Kett would suggest the propriety of send-
ing me some money. I knew nothing of it till after it was
mentioned to you. Now, that you are away from those persons
who have surrounded you for some time past, do try and calmly
consider if you cannot escape from their influence. Do you
not think that if you value your own future happiness you must
do so? Your moral courage is strong enough. Do try. I
will promise you success if you do. Surely the one so involved
in the divorce matter cannot be your real friend. If you are
really sorry for what has passed, and anxious to show such to be
the case, why retain another who has at least encouraged you
to do that for which you are now so grieved? Yon do not
know what bitter feelings are excited in my mind to see in your
handwriting the greatest wish still to live in the heart of your
wife, and yet that acts do not accompany it. If your heart is
so deeply wounded, do show it by actions. My greatest wish
is that you would so convince me that I could accede to your
wishes. May Gud enable you to convince your poor afflicted,
but still affectionate wife, " M. E. M. COOKE.
" Dec. 15, 1842." _ .

"My dearest Husband—Would that you had ever acted as
your tw o last letters promise; but it is too late for letters or
words ; actions, completely altered actions, alone will convince
your much afflicted wife. The letter I promised to send to you
was Mr. Corfield's suggestion, and I could not send it because
he did net come to me. Had his conduct not been so deceitful
I should not now tell you that the cold letters you complain
of were dictated by him. When I found you were going
11 into Chancery I could not write. Illy father did not prevent
my replying, only your own conduct. Had my letters been
answered in affection such as is due to a wife, you should have
had plenty. Who Mr. John Att wood's agent is I know nor,
arid very much doubt if my father does. At any rate I shall
communicate with my father on this shocking subject. Be as-
sured it is the most earnest wish of my poor father and myself
' that you should so alter your conduct that I could in safety
allow you to r.-turn to me. Oh, John, did you know who are
your friends, I might have some hope that my life is nut to be
spent in widowhood. 1 know it is possible that you may change,
but my hones have been so often blighted. Be assured that if
you after I shall not go abroad. It is quite false that I have
taken steps towards it. Nor do I intend to refrain from see-
ing }ow when I see you altered. You have it in your power,
my dear husband, to make matters peaceable. Do so, pray
do. This will be a certain proof of your sincerity
and real regard for me. You promise not to ask to
see me against my will. When I wish it you shall know
by letter or my coming to you. All little inadvertencies
shall be forgotten. I know my own conduct is not blameless
in these trifles. You have heard falsely that I have had uns
My mind has been the
motive in writing to you;
cgormeaftonirttasbuleffeloredrginDgsotnhoist lmasisttawkeeemk.y
it is to assure you that it is not too late to regain my confidence,
but that I am determined to have my judgment convinced that
you are really intending to alter, both towards me and my
father, and that you have now begun. Then happy days may
await us all, instead of this heart-breaking work. The hor-
rible tale you state is a perfect mystery to me, and I must wait
to hear from my father, but do not be distracted by it. Let
me hear from yon as soon as possible that you are satisfied with
what I say, and that you do not doubt the affection of your poor
wife. I mean to relieve, though not to release from blame,
your aching heart. Any letters sent to Avenue-road will reach
me. I wish my dear husband would pray God night and
morning to direct him. To God I ever commit you, and that
he may bless and change your heart is almost the unceasing
prayer of your devotedly attached wife,
" M. E. MYNDE COOKE.
The two following are also letters written by the defendant's
daughler to her husband .
":My dearest Husband—Let me entreat you not to suppose
that kind expressions alone towards a deserted wife are in any
way sufficient to assure her that her husband, however dear, is
truly sorry, in the sight of GA and man, for such an act of
cruelty. No, the actions of every day must prove a change of
sentiment. You ask me if your having heard such shocking
reports does not warrant your conduct in trying to see me
against my will ? I must tell then my opinion. It is, that. you
ought to have rejected them as false, and have paid no violent
attention to them. However wrongly others may act, it is no
wart ant for our bad conduct. They are originated by parties
unknown to us, or at any rate not originated by the well-wishers
of any of u'. You could have quietly asked my leave to see
me, s.r written to ask me if they were true. Your leaving me
has laid you open to the shocking reports ; you must expect
to suffer ; I have been a very great sufferer indeed. Your con-
duct to me is not what weighs only with me ; that towards my
father is, in all reality, cru. lly to me. Do not say I recrimi-
nate ; I am only trting, in the affection of my heart, of a recent
bride to show you what it is I require to convince my judgment
that I may allow you to see me. You may rest assured the
moment I am convinced you shall know it. But I will not
scruple to tall you, that having time to sit down and reflect on
your conduct, I feel hurt to the greatest possible degree.
After having been treated as the worst of characters by you,
you now persist, although you know it is my wish not to see
you before the settlement is signed, in pressing an interview.
I cannot consent ; if I do it will be like saying I am the guilty
party. The day will come when you will see I am right.
No, John ; let the settlement be signed and the release.
During the period from now till then act like a penitent
man, and do not ask me to see you. I know what passes
better than if I lived with you. Let me intreat you to avoid all
bad expressions, and show that you really love me by doing
what I request, though very painful to you. Here will,
at once, be a proof that your expressions of real esteem and re-
gard for me are true. It is in this way you must re-assure 1:7
judgment. I hope by this that you will be convinced 1 have,
at any rate, once esteemed you. The kindness of Mrs. Kett I
feel most deeply, and am not a little pleased to find you can be
gratified with honesty, although it hurts your pride. It will
give me great pleasure to find you putting into force any kind
intentions towards your much-injured father-in-law. Let me
intreat you, dear John, not to attempt this change of conduct
without prayer and the reading of your Bible ; if you take it
up, God will bless it to you. That He may give you His
Holy Spirit to soften and check your turbulent spirit is still the
affectionate prayer and wish of your sincerely attached but
afflicted wife, " M. E. MYNDE COOKE.
" 30th November, 1842."

"My dear Husband—l am glad the settlement and release
have both been executed. I did, indeed, attach much import-
ance to this object, as it relieves me from the anguish of having
rendered my father liable to a suit in Chancery. It appears to
me that my father having assured you he would be liable f..r my
just debts, it would be more in accordance with your promises to
me if you had given up the small freehold at Byfield.--Your
affectionate wife, " M. E. MYNDE COOKE.
" Jan. 3. 1843."

The next is a letter from the plaintiff to his wife :
"My dear Wife—l addressed a letter to you on the in-
stant, to request an interview, with the object of entering into
certain explanations that I felt were necessary previous to a
long-continued absence from each other, provided such expla-
nation rendered that separation necessary to our mutual com-
fort. I called in Eaton-place for the same purpose. In again
addressing you believe me I am actuated by only one motive—
the desire of forwarding the interests and happiness of yourself,
your father, and myself. With regard to the past lam perfectly
sensible of actions on my part which I would had never
occurred, and whatever might have been the result of our inter-
view had you granted it, you at least would have been satisfied
that time had worked no little change in my sentiments and
opinions, and had produced reflections which tended to con-
vince me of the many errors into which I have fallen. You,
too, would have been generous enough to believe how ill-
advised I have ever been, and in the midst of all would, I am
sure, rather pity than upbiaid, and, on hearing the treachery
by which I am and have been surrounded, rather would you
sympathise than continue longer to censure or condemn. I
had wished, deeply wished, to have told you from my own lips
that which I cannot here, when perhaps all would have still been
myth wwoume,aonnlghlotvteo,janntedryfeoruektonoswhasdioncwerweiltyhlothvee,calonuddtshat
oatf
well ; for 1 feel in our present position that no false pi ide with
woman
misery
a long vista of years. Thus I hope I have expressed myself suffi-
ciently clear to convince you that my desire we should meet was
neither to perplex or to annoy, but calmly, after anxious hours
of reflection, upon a couch of sickness, of regret for the pad,
and hope for the future, to convey to you personally the actual
feelings which now possess me. I can only add, that if this
open avowal and appeal to your feelings should prove as idle as
my last, and should be again treated by you with silence, that
I must, however irksome it be to reconcile, consider it your
wish never to see me again ; but God grant for both our sakes,
that your bosom will yield to nobler and better feelings, and
that you will no longer hesitate to see me and hear aught I
have to say. For your guidance I mention that after next
week my stay in town will be uncertain. God bless you.
66 Believe me, sincerely and affectionately, to be your fond
and devoted husband, "JOHN ItIYNDE COOKE."

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
OLD COUR!.

" My Dearest Husband has I fear misunderstood his wife's
meaning in saying that kind expressions alone would not
convince her that her husband was truly sorry. As far as kind
expressions go I shall be the first to appreciate them, and wish
most earnestly I had never had reason to ask for actions to ac.
company them ; no one in the world can have the same feelings
for you that I have. When you act against my judgment I long
to step in and prevent you. My greatest wish is to he proud
of you as my dear and affectionate husband, and that you should
he proud of me. This I have once been ; but alas! I cer-
tainly find it difficult to believe your altered expressions since
last we saw each other are really now what may be depended
upon. Still they are what, when I first took the name of wife,
you acted. upon to the utmost ; and if I can be convinced
of your sincerity. I shall be most happy again to be the
beloved of my husband, and will, to convince you that
I have really loved and felt for you as an affectionate wife,
deeperwho i
wrong; e rebel lgy
si
ffogrieved to
el
this
os and
praise
ashamedsmemoment
td when he
you
toyytohui
think
and her husband
it
ruwo oio d
oltdo
syhooouewrs
arms, I must assure you this is blindness and weakness; not. affec-
tion. such as will bear to be tried. Such conduct may latter
fur the moment, but it is not what will last ; affection founded
upon judgment will last as long as life. You have, in our
happy days, said you had married a woman of sense, and that
you were proud of her. Then, dear John, do not blame her
for acting up to her opinion. You never doubted my love till
your conduct towards me altered. But I shall not say any-
thing more about what has passed, unless these hostilities are
renewed. The letter or letters stated to have been written
by me to some one abroad, or Mrs. Gilbert, or somebody, I
beg to ,say have never existed. All I can say is, give me but
ventthe opportunity l y
affections.your
strongest the
you ever tried yet. It is not
Pull
lrtehde sentimentsst
rio gjudcai
°nods aye
andtlon actions
youto will
gi el
find it the
strongest looking rope that will bear the greatest strain ;
it is quality, not size. There is a peculiar something in
those terms, husband and wife, which none can feel but
those who bear them. There is a sacredness about them.
Tarn which way you will they still ought to bind, if they do
no'. You will say I condemn myself in this. Well, then, rest
assured all may yet be well, if all that ispossible be done to col-
vinee me that 1 may safely trust and confide in you as my dear
and really fond and affectionate husband. One method I
would propose would be a correspondence; but do not feel hurt

Mr. ATKINSON and Mr. POLLOCK respectively for the
several prisoners, said they were unable to resist the case
set up tbr the prosecution. The prisoners had, how-
ever, up to that time, borne a good character, and no
doubt were, in this transaction, the toela of persons older
than themselves.
A number of witnesses were called to character.
Verdict—Guilty; to be imprisoned for three calendar
months.

These sessions, the 142 d, and the 10th of the present
mayoralty, commenced yesterday, before the Lord Mayor,
the Common Sergeant, Alderman Sir James Duke, the
Sheriff, Under-Sheriff, &c.
There are 222 prisoners for trial, nsmely:-For mur-
der, 1; manslaughter, 3; cutting, stabbing, and wound-
ing with intent to murder or do grievous bodily harm,
12; highway robbery and assault, 2; arson, 1; rape, 1;
burglary, 11; horse stealing, 1; bigamy, 1; forgery,
and uttering forged instruments, 10; abetting and en-
ticieg to forge deeds, &c., 2; feloniously uttering and
unlawfully possessing counterfeit coin, 2; misdemeanours
of several descriptions, 12; embezzlement by clerks and
servants, 20; unnatural offence, 1; shoplifting, 2; shop-
breaking and larceny therein, 1; perjury, 1; conspiracy,
; fraud, 1 ; obtaining goods and money by
false pretexts, 2 ; larceny, grand and petit, 50 ;
assaulting constables when on duty, 4 ; assaults with in-
tent to carnally know, 2 ; ditto, of other descriptions, 2 ;
stealing goods and moneys in dwelling-houses, 3 ; ditto,
from the person, 18 ; ditto, by domestic and other ser-
vants, 36 ; child-stealing and stripping, 2 ; letter steal
ing by postmen, 2 ; robbery in ports of entry and dis-
charge, 2 ; ditto, on the River Thames, 2 ; receiving
stolen property with a guilty knowledge, 8; housebreak-
ing and larceny therein, 3. London committals, 47; Mid-
dlesex ditto, 123 ; Surrey ditto, 44 ; Kent, ditto 7 ;
Admiralty, ditto, 1.
Considering the long interval since the last session, the
calendar is not so heavy, in a numerical point of view, as
might have been expected, but the offences charged
against the prisoners are of an unusually serious and
penal nature, indeed, more so, than has ever happened at
any corresponding session since the Court has been esta-
blished.
Beside one committal for murder, and three for man-
slaughter, there are the unprecedented number of twelve
charged with the un-English, and until within these few
years, rare offence, of maliciously stabbing and cutting,
with intent to murder or maim, and do bodily harm.
There have been more tried in this Court fur this crime
during the last four years, than in the fourteen years
preceding. The offence of embezzlement by clerks is
much on the increase, notwithstanding the condign pu-
nishments which have lately been awarded to it, there
being no less than twenty charted with it ; and thirty-
six servants of another description are committed for
robbing their employers. There are also the unusual
number of ten charged with forgery, and eleven with bur-
glary—offences which until of late y ears were generally
visited by capital punishment.
In addition to the above summary, there are a great
number of prisoners under a course of examination at
the various police courts ; so that it is pr..bable that ere
the close of the week the number will be augmented to
nearly 300, exclusive of those who are at large on recog-
nizance.

The grand jury having been sworn, and silence hay.
log been prochtimee in the usual form by Mr. Harker,
the officer of the Court,

The Commom SERGEANT, in the absence of the Re-
corder, proceeded to deliver his charge to them. The
Learned Judge observed that the calendar presented about
the usual number of persons for trial, 222, and probably
before the close of the session that number would be in-
creased by the addition of 50 or 60. He was sorry to
say that many of the charges were of a most serious
nature, but th-ey required very little comment from him,
because generally the circumstances attending them
were of every-day occurrence. There was one charge
of stealing an exchequer bill, the property of the