The Sun.
London, England, 1829-08-25 00:00:00

LONDON, TUESDAY EVENING, AUGUST 25, 1829.

thought they were thrown at Captain Dobbyn or
witness; knew the police were pressed by the mob,
for the stones were flying at them in all directions ;
the police were completely surrounded by the mob.
Several witnesses were examined' for the defence,
and they proved that there was so much excite-
ment among the crowd, and their conduct was so
violent, that the policemen were obliged to fire in
their own defence, but they ceased when the mob
left off pelting them with stoneq.
A witness gave the prisoner a good character.
The Learned JUDGE then recapitulated the evi-
dence, arid charged the Jury at great length.
The Jury retired, and at about a'quarter-past ten
o'clock at night returned a verdict of Not Guilty,
which was no sooner announced than the police
assembled in the Couet and' the hall cheered, and
otherwise manifested considerable exultation.
THURSDAY, Auc. 20.

James Burke and Thomas Smith were indicted
for the wilful murder of Connor Mulally, at Old-
town, on the 7th of July last.
• Mr. DOHERTY, M.P. stated the case. On the
7th of July the deceased was working in a garden
along with Tim. Carr and Michael Delaney. Two
persons came up at the time, and got into conversa-
tion with the deceased and the two workmen. As
soon as the two men who came up ascertained who
Connor Mulally was, one of them took out a stick
with lead in the end of it, with which he struck
Mulally on the head. The other took out a pistol,
and swore they would shoot the workmen if they
stirred. This circumstance took place at eight
o'clock in the morning, in the midst of a number of
people, who might be aroused at a moment's warn-
ing. That was a deplorable fact, but such was the
unfortunate state of the country, that the man was
barbarously murdered, as be had stated. He would
produce Carr and Delaney, to prove that the taller
of the .men at the bar was the person who struck
the deceased, and that the unfortunate young man
‘vho stands beside him was the person who took out
the pistol.
The witnesses alluded to by the Solicitor-Gene-
ral were examined, who fully substantiated the state•
meat, and the two unfortunate men were found Guilty.
The JUDGE then, after a solemn exhortation, sem
tented the prisoners to be hanged, and their bodies
to be gived for dissection.
The unfortunate men were carried from the dock
in a dreadful state of insensibility; They were not
able to walk a single step. Smith is only about 17
years old, and Burke 24.

MUNSTER CIRCUIT.-FRALEE, AUG. 20.

John Horan was indicted for violently assaulting
Mary Tuomy.
Mary Tuomy examined—l was in service with the
prisoner's mother. Had occasion to go out on the
evening when the prisoner met me. He asked me
to consent to his wishes. I refused. He then laid
hold of me, and threw me down. He had his will
of me. It was against my will. I bawled and
roared. Nobody came to my assistance.
Chief Baron O'GRADY—Young woman, would
you rather marry the prisoner or hang him ?—I
would like to give him the benefit of the law, your
Lordship.
A pretty benefit, indeed Is your parish priest
in town ?—I don't know, your Honour.
Is your father in town ?—He is, my Lord.
The father was called on the table.

CHIEF BARON—WouId you rather see that man
hanged, or married to your daughter ?—Oh, then, I
call God to witness, I would rather see him married
to my daughter.
Then you consent to the match ?—I consent to
whatever pleases your Lordship.
CHIEF BARON—Oh, you must manage the matter
yourselves, for I am ao match-maker.—( A laugh.)—
Now, let us see what your daughter says to the busi-
ness ; speak to her.
(The father proceeded towards the daughter, and,
throwing his arm round her neck, gave her an affec-
tionate whisper.)
CHIEF BARON—WeII, what does she say; will
she marry him ?—She consents, my Lord.
CHIEF BARON—Now see what the prisoner says.
The gaoler whispered the prisoner, who said he
was satisfied.

CHIEF BARON—But how are they to be married,
as the parish priest is not in town ?—The gaoler
suggested that the Chaplain of the Gaol would be a
fit and proper person to perform the ceremony. He
accordingly took both into his custody, and instantly
repaired to the gaol, where the capital felony was
soon converted into a valid marriage.

James Daly was indicted for violently assaulting
Mary Cronin, on the 4th of April last.
The prisoner had been confined for 12 months
for an attempt upon the same young woman, and
was out of prison but a few days when the offence
was committed of which he now stood charged.
Mary Cronin, an interesting young woman, exa-
mined—l live in Boherbee, in Tralee. On Satur-
day I went for water to the river. It was after
dinner-time, about five in the evening. On my re-
turn with the water prisoner met me. He caught my
hands together, put them behind my back, and threw
me down. He said, " be revenged of you
for keeping me so long in gaol." When he had me
down he effected his purpose. I cried out, but he
put his hand on my mouth, and stopped me. When
he was going away, he said, " Now you may go to
the devil, you blackguard." I got up with diffi-
culty. Was very feeble and faint. When I got
home I sat down for a moment, and then called my
mother, and told her what happened. There were
three other women present. I fainted, and was put
on the bed. My arms were bruised, and the side of
my head was swollen. My cloak was soiled and
dirty, and my gown was torn.
Catherine Cronin—Am the mother of Mary Cro-
nin. Recollects the 4th of April last. Sent her
out to the river for water for washing that evening,
about five o'clock. When she returned I saw some-
thing was the matter with her. She did not bring
more than a pint of water. She looked very weak.
She then told me the misfortune that happened to
her. I took her into the room, and put her on a
bed. Examined her, and can say upon my oath that
somebody must have done her harm. She told me
it was the prisoner.
Two other women, who were in the house at the
time, corroborated this witness's testimony.
The CHIEF BAILON, in summing up, told the
Jury that country people in general had a very inac-
curate idea of time. If the prisoner were guilty of
this charge, it was a crime of a most aggravated
character. It was not a rape of love or of passion,
it was a rape of revenge. It was their duty to
decide from the evidence whether the prisoner was
guilty or not.
Verdict—Guilty, accompanied with a recommen-
dation of mercy.
One of the Jury would not agree to the verdict
unless accompanied with this recommendation. The
prisoner, it is supposed, will not be hanged.
The prosecutrix came on the table, and said she
was -willing to marry him, to save him from being
hanged.
Prisoner—My Lord, I am ready to marry her.
The JUDGE, in such a case,
any compromise of the kind. would not listen to

to Elizabeth Fahy (a remarkably ordinary woman)
large portions of medicine.
The prisoner pleaded Not Guilty.
Elizabeth Fahy examined by Mr. R. B7,NNETT—
I know the prisoner •in the dock. Lived, in 'July
last, hi the same house with him. It was at Mrs.
Barker's, at Carrick-on-Suir. I was servant in the
house. He was an apprentice to an apothecary
there. Prisoner endeavoured to make free with me,
and I allowed him. One night, when the family
were on a visit at 'Waterford, and there was no one
in the house but the prisoner, myself and an old
woman, who was hired for a short tine to do some
work, Mr. O'Brien came into the kitchen and gave
me a glass of punch, which, when I had drank, I
discovered to have had a very peculiar taste, being
very strong, and somewhat different from the taste
of whiskey. This was about ten or eleven o'clock at
night, the usual time of going to bed. I was then in
the habit of sleeping in my master's bed, to keep it
wired for him until he would return from the country,
and on this night, as usual, I went to his beed, but
found myself so sleepy that I had not power to blow
out my candle. I did not awake until morning, when
I found.mpelf quite different to what I usually was. I
found Mr. O'Brien in bed with me thatmorning, and
I bawled and jumped out of bed, but he said if I held
my tongue he would marry me. Ifound some change in
my condition soon after. When I was passing
through the shop soon after this, he asked -me what
was the matter with me ? and I said he knew very
well. He never slept with me but once. I (lid not
complain to any one of what he had done, because
I. was afraid. He never denied saying that he would
marry me. He afterwards gave me a bottle, telling
me to take a table-spoonful in the morning; one in
the day, and one at night. He gave me no other
advice. He gave me twelve pills also, and told me
to be particular to bathe my feet with hot water.—
Two pills were to be taken every night, and I was
to heat a trencher, and put it to my bowels very hot.
When I found that the medicine was doing me a
great deal of injury, I went back again to Carrick,
and told him the state I was in, and that I wanted
some poison to destroy either myself or the child. I
told him that I was with child by him, and he gave
me some powders, which, he said, would du me
good, and he said that 1 should get myself bled
three times a week. I did not take any of the hist
medicine, as I merely wanted to give it in evidence
against 'inn.
Judge MOORE said there was no evidence to prove
that the medicine was deleterious, and it must be
proved to have been given with an evil intent to
come under the statute.

After some discussion the indictment wag gnat-b-
-ed, and the prisoner was set at large, having been
first bound over o❑ his own recognizance to stand
his trial when called upon.

SPORTING INTELLIGENCE.

TATTERSALL'S.

The betting yesterday served to show that some altera-
tions may be looked for without producing any immediate
changes of importance. Frederick evidently improves,
and will, no doubt, get to his old place. Rowton is short
of friends, but Voltaire continues in demand, spite of a
well authenticated report that his Noble owner is dange-
rously indisposed abroad. Lawn Sleeves and Pilgrim have
retired almost out of the betting, and are not likely again
to come into the market. The Cup betting was dull ;
one thing, however, was obvious—namely, that Velocipede
is going out Of favour (7 to 2, and no takers). The King's
mare is-still talked of, and has been harked play or pay.
The following is a statement of the odds at the, dose of
the room :

DONCASTER ST. LEGER. . .
7 to 2 agst Lord Cleveland's Voltaire
6 to 1 agst Hon. E. Petre's Rowton
8 to 1 agst Lord Langford's Sir Hercules
12 to 1 agst Mr. Ridsdale's Clotilde
13 to 1 agst Mr. Gibbeson's Lady Sarah
13 to 1 agst Mr. Forth's Frederick
17 to 1 agst Mr. Theobald's The Excitiisite
go to 1 agst Mr. Petre's Apollonia
20 to 1 agst Mr. Scott's Felt
20 to 1 agst Mr. Gibbeson's Wandering Boy
25 to 1 agst Lord Cleveland's Stotforth
33 to 1 agst Mr. Riddell's Lawn Sleeves
100 to 1 agst Major Yarburgh's Pilgrim
1200 to 400 apt Rowton, Frederick, and Exquisite (tak.)

DONCASTER GOLD CUP.
6 to 4 agst Lori! Chesterfield's Zioganee
'7 to 2 agst Mr. Armitage's Velocipede
5 to 1 agst Major Yarburgh's Laurel
5 to 1 agst His Majesty's Fleur• de Lis.

For some time past, two apple. trees, one in
the • garden of Mr. W. GWINNEL, and the other in the
garden of Mr. W. Btsnor,' of this town, have been covered
with blossom, though bringing a fine crop of fruit at the
same time.—Cheltenham Chronicle.

The demand for good foundery pig iron has
been rather improving, and some capitalists have become
buyers, evidently with the prospect of selling again to ad-
vantage. The best qu.dity of Scottish pig iron is selling
at 51. ss. per ton.—Ayr Advertiser.

YARMOUTH (ISLE OF WIGHT), AUG. 23.
—The Carn Brea Castle has completely broken up
during last night's gale, and the coast is strewed with her
wreck.

Lieutenant CHARLES JONES has been re-
moved from the command of the Vigilant ketch, and _his
name is ordered to be struck off the list of the navy. The
cause of his dismissal from a service in which he has been
engaged with honour fora period of 33 years, is attributed
to his connexion with the circumstances under which four
seamen of the Vigilant were recently seized in the streets
of Lisbon, and confined by order of MmuEL, for being
concerned in an attempt to convey treasure out of the
kingdom, contrary to the existing regulations. It is said
that Lieutenant JONES, when questioned by the Portu-
guese authorities, to avoid implicating the shippers, and in
61" perplexity of the moment, claimed the property as his
own; and the whole case having been strongly represent-
ed to the British Government by Don MIGUEL, his Ma-
jesty's Ministers felt it their duty to dismiss this officer
from the naval service. —Devonport Telegraph.

COWES, AUG. 22.—0 n Wednesday our
Noble Commodore returned to our roadstead, in his Falcon,
and received a letter from the Vice-Commodore, communi-
cating a resolution of a special meeting, to present to him
the beautiful compass, supported by an eagle, surmounted
by a superb crown, made for the KING by M. PRESTON,
and in consequence of his MAJESTY'S discontinuing his
aquatic excursions, given to the Club. The resolution
was propoSed by the Earl of ILCIIESTEIL, seconded by the
➢iarquis of ANGLESEA, and unanimously approved by all
present.

The woman WELLING, who, as we stated a
few days ago, was committed from the New Bailey, Man-
chester, on .a charge of decoying away a young girl, and
delivering her up for the purpose of seduction, has, after
some difficulty, procured bail, and been set at liberty.

The name of the present finisher of the law is
CHESHIRE. When, therefore, a " family man" inquires
after any brother of the craft who may have been hanged,
he is informed " that be has gone to Cheshire, and has
never been heard of since."
EFFECTS OF THE LATE FLOODS IN SCOT-
LAND.—The loss of property on this occasion has neces-
sarily been much greater than in 1768, on account of the
improved agriculture and general condition of the North.
The demolition anti injury of the bridges and roads be-
twixt Aberdeen anti the Grampians, must amount to one
hundred thousand pounds. Of the loss of crops and fields
—for in many places the soil has been overlaid with stones
and gravel to the depth of about two feet—we dare not
hazard a calculation, and it will be some time yet ere it
can be accurately told. The loss su.o.ained by the Duke
of GORDON willit is stated, amount to 30,000/., and that
by the Hon. Cul, GRANT, P about V?? 000/.
nes; courier,

AUSTRALIA.

(Continued from our Paper of yesterday.)

Behold me established at Sydney in a small
house, for which I pay a rent of 2501. a year.
For half the money you could get twice as good
a house in any English country town. This
excessive house rent is caused by the dearness
of labour; which enhances the cost of building ;
for, either the builder will exact a rent propor-
tioned to his outlay, or (if he cannot obtain
such a rent) he will not build.
' I now associated with the inhabitants of Syd-
ney, hoping, as I had become an idle man, to
be of some service to the Colony, by directing
my attention to public objects. To one I talked
of introducing the cultivation of silk, to another
of tobacco, to a third of sugar ; and I proposed
to form societies for these-several purposes. But
all my proposals were received with coldness.
Those to whom I addressed myself knew, though
they could not well say why; that my schemes
were exceedingly foolish. Seeing them_ appa-
rently so deaf to the calls of self interest, I en-
deavoured to find some good reason for their.
conduct ; and my trouble in this respect was not
thrown away. I puzzled myself a long while
with questions of soil, and climate, and markets,
and dUties, and: bounties. At length the true
light broke upon me. The scarcity of labourers
was an insuperable bar to any mode of cultiva-
tion that requires the employment of many
hands ! I profess to be but little versed in the
laws which govern production, distribution, and
consumption ; but the fact was self-evident. I
could not, hough I had been ever so reckless,
have embarked my fortune in one of the above-
named speculations. Had I done so, I should
have been ruined by the dearness of labour.
But I could not do so ; there were not labourers
enough for the purpose, at any rate of wages.
I then turned my mind to plans of immigra-
tion, with a view at once to increase the number
of working hands, and diminish the wages of
latour. Many projects suggested themselves to
my mind, and were discussed by some of the
most intelligent colonists. But, one by one, we
abandoned all as utterly worthless. This will
surprise you ; but attend to me for a moment.
Suppose that we had, by- some means or other,
brought 20,000 industrious and skilful Chinese
into the Colony. For • how long would they
have remained labourers for hire ? Just until
they had saved money wherewith to obtain grants
of land, when they would have become employ-
ers of labour, supposing any to be had. A sud-
den revolution in their- condition would have
increased the demand for labour just in the same
proportion that it would have diminished the
supply. The servants would 'have become mas-
ters, wanting servants. Nothing is more clear.
Seeing that this colony could never be any-
thing but a half-barbarous, Tartatian, ill-culti-
vated, poverty-stricken wilderness, until in the
course of nature, some three hundreds of years
hence, the population should become:more dense,
I began to hanker after that worst of human ills
—the institution of slavery. How often had 1
cursed the memory of Las Cases, for bribing the .
first planters of Hispaniola to spare the inhabi-
tants of that island, by suggesting that they
might obtain slaves from Africa ! How scorn-
fully and indignantly had I abused the democrats
of North America for cherishing the horrors of
slavery ! How I had sighed, and even shed
tears of compassion and anger, at the cruelties
which I saw inflicted upon blacks at the Cape of
Good Hope ! And yet, in spite of my reason
and every better feeling of my nature, I brought
myself to find excuses for the Spaniards, Ameri-
cans, and the Dutch ; aye, even to think that a
few thousand negroes would be a great acquisi-
tion to New South Wales ! So they would ;
and they would conduce to the wealth, and—
deny it who will—even to the civilization of
these colonial landowners. What made Lord
Seaford a rich, well-educated, and agreeable gen-
tleman ?—His slaves in Jamaica ! Had slavery
never existed, he would, in the natural course of
things, have been a little West India farmer,
perhaps scarcely able to read—certainly not fit
to be a member of civilized society. What made
the most able public men of North America ?
Even their slaves, which conferred upon them
riches, leisure, and instruction. Slavery has not
produced any distinguished men in Southern
Africa ; because shivery there is of a gentle kind
—domestic, not predial. But the African far-
mer is highly civilized, when compared with the
descendants of Spaniards, who inhabit the Pam-
pas of the Rio de la Plata ; and he owes what-
ever distinguishes him from the Tartar to the
cheap labour of his slaves, which has prevented
him from degenerating into a savage. In my
heart I abhor the very name of slavery ; but this
is my adopted country, and when I contemplate
its future condition, 1 can conceive that slavery
was revived for something else besides the pure
gratification of man's. worst propensities. Sla-
very exists, not to gratify the hearts of bad men,
but to fill the pockets of those who, without
slavery, would be poor and insignificant. It will
never be abolished by appeals to the hearts of
slave owners. You might as well expect to make
Mr. Buxton and Mr. Macaulay live upon vege-
tables, by spewing them the cruelties of Smith-
field. But this is almost a digression.
I wonder whether it be possible to devise any
means by which to establish, in a new country,
such a proportion between people anti land as
would render labour plentiful, and not extrava-
gantly clear. Here we have, it is true, a species
of slave-labour—that .of convicts; and
.to this,
combined with the demand for produce created
by the great expenditure of Government, the
few rich men of New South Wales are wholly
indebted for their fortunes. But the supply of
cheap labour was always small and variable; and
of - late the demand has so much increased,
through the increase of landowners, that not the
slightest dependence call be placed on convict
labour as a permanent source of wealth. You
may obtain, though not without trouble, one,
two, or perhaps three conyicts, for a term of a
few years ; but, that they will rob. you is almost
certain ; that they will murder you is by no means
improbable ; and that their labour will not be
very profitable is beyond a doubt. What,
then, -are we to do, to obtain that desirable
proportion between the demand and sup-
ply of labour, without which, I say, no
country can flourish'? Answer me that clues-
Lion satisfactorily, and I will tell you that " Bo-
tau Bay " is an earthly paradise, This; indeed

, .
would he a glorious discovery. Call- it au tn,-
vention,- or what you will, must, whenever
established in a country cursed with slavery,
cause the natural, slow, easy death -of that
hideous monster. Fancy the shivery of America
and South Africa in a slow consumption, and
Free Labour growing up, healthy, strong,- and.
Cheerful, to supply its place! But lam dream-
ing—Slavery will flourish in America and South
Africa until there shall be no more land to he
obtained for next to nothing ; and the inhabit-
ants of Australia must, for hundred of years to
come, secretly long for a trade in human flesh.
Tell me the time when the disprOportion be-
tween the demand and supply of labour in Ame-
rica, South Africa, and Australia, will ceasei;aind
I will tell you when slavery will cease in America
and South Africa, and when the Australians
will become a rich, instructed, refined, an
highly' civilized people. .
. Did J not mention something about intellec-
tual society ? There is no' such thing in this
country—at least, in the sense which vou'attach
to the words. We are not barbarians ; the
colony is too young for that. Not even the
thieves of England have had time to forget the
civilization, such as it was, which they brought
from the old country. Our Free Settlers, whose
emigration dates some time after that of the first
convicts, are Englishmen and women, very little
altered from what they were in England. Some
generations hence their descendants will rro-
bably be as uncouth, and ignorant, and violent,
as the great mass of North Americans.- Perhaps,
as here are no dense forests to prevent them ,
from spreading, they may becothe its wild as the
inhabitants of the Pampas, or as gross, lethargic,
and stupid as the boors of the Cape of Good
Hope ; who, by the bye, were compelled to
spread by the Dutch mode of granting land.--
But, at prevent, they are English people, to all
intents and purposes—of that class to which, ia
England, they belonged. You will understand,
however, that they were not of a class -particu-
larly intellectual, even whilst in England ; and it
was not to be expected that they should cultivate
their minds here. They came here for a very
different purpose. Literary men, men of sci-
ence, philosophers, do not emigrate to new coun-
tries where their acquirements would be neither
)rewarded nor admired. Sir Walter Scott, Sir
Humphrey Davy, and Mr. Malthus, would not
earn as much in this colony as three brawny ex-
perienced ploughmen; and though the- in-
ordinate vanity of a new people might be grati-
fied by the possession of them, they would be
considered as mere ornaments, and would often
be wholly neglected for things of greater utility.
Unless, indeed, Mr. Malthus could create for us
that proportion of which I have spoken above ;
in that case we should load hint with riches, and
erect statues to his honour in every marke:-
place. Apropos of statues—professors of' the
fine arts would be of no greater value here than
writers and philosophers. I can now easily coat-
prebend why Copley and West emigrated from
America, and why Cooper and Irving are be-
came citizens of Europe. And I have , said
enough to explain why this country imports
hardly any superior intellect.
Of what class, then, you ask, have been tim
great mass, of emigrants from England, not con-
victs ? Excellent people in their way, most of
them-rfarmers, army and navy surgeons, subal-
terns on half-pay, 'and a number of indescribable
adventurers, from about the twentieth rank in
England. They came here to live, .not -to en-
joy—to cat and drink, not to refine —to " settle,"
that is, to roll in a gross plenty for the body, but
to starve their minds. To these must be added
convicts, many of whom are become rich and
influential ; and some, not exactly convicts, to
whom England ceased to be a convenient resi-
dence. The English who live at Boulogne,
some for cheapness, some from misfortune, and
some from fear, would offer, I should think, a
fair sample of the material which composed so-
ciety in New South Wales ; I say composed, in
the past tense, because the bustling, thriving
settler. of New South Wales is a companion,
rather ignorant though he be, far away, prefer-
able to the not more enlightened, melancholy.
English sluggard of Boulogne. To form n aue
conception of the " upper classes" here, suppose
all the natives of France annihilated, and the
whole country belonging to the English residents
of Boulogne. In that case there would be an
almost perfect resemblance between those Eng-
lishmen who, across a narrow channel, can see
their own country, and those who, at its, anti-
podes, look upon the Pacific Ocean. Man-,-how
often must it be repeated—is the creature of cir-
cumstances. In likening these, my fellow,colo-
nists, to the English outcasts in France, I speak
only of their original composition.
They had nothing to lose, and they have
gained immensely, by the change in their con-
dition. This is true, both in a pecuniary and
in a moral sense. A poor man who emigrates
to New South Wales may become comparatively
rich ; and, though he should be ever so idle by
habit, he must become industrious or starve.
My case is an exception, to the ordiway course
of things here. I did not come to make money,
but to invest money made by my grandfather.
This was a capital error on my part ; but to
proceed. The poor Lieutenant, whose miser-
able pittance would but just support him in
England, whose wife and children were a bur-
then,and whose life was passing away between
the anxieties of poverty and the slorltwdoapyr-i day-dreams
of brandy and water, becomes here independent :
wealthy in grain rand cattle ; a t
thousands of acres ; a master of servants, such
as they are ; an uxurious husband and a- fond
father, because his wife and children, instead of
being a burthen, are of infinite value to him ;
and an excellent member of society, such as it
is, because be is deeply interested in the well-
being of the community. What a contrast with
the lazy, pick -tooth, e pier
fretful lounger of -th
at Boulogne !

But this is, the bright side. We must not
forget the original composition. I will now
briefly describe the actual condition of our best
Society."