Star.
London, England, 1827-05-28 00:00:00

the heartlessness of the defendant, the Learned Counsel 1
declared that the City of London would, on Tuesday
next, witness the public execution of some unfortunate
men—one of them, perhaps, had stolen a sheep, or a few
. shillings. How trifling was such an offence compared
with that of the robber of domestic happiness ! Mr.
Phillips then called the following witnesses:
Mrs. Mary Anne Rod way, the sister of the plaiatiff,
deposed, that the plaintiff and his wife had lived upon
the best possible terms. She had frequent opportunities
of witnessing their domestic happiness, having often
been on a visit with them for a fortnight together. Her
brother was about 28. years of age, and his wife was 22,
and a remarkably fine woman. Her father had retired
from business, anti was possessed of considerable pso•
perty ; plaintiff and his wife seemed to be greatly at-
tached. The wife always spoke of the husband in terms
of the most enthusiastic affection.
Mrs. Deborah Owen, of Doke-street, Stamford-street,
deposed, that on the 20th of February the defendant
took apartments in her souse, and-introduced the plain-
. tiff's wife as Mrs. Marsh ; and since that period bad
cohabited with her as a man with his wife.
John Reed, attorney of Cheltenham, deposed, that he
went to the house of the last witness on Friday, and
saw defendant and plaintiff's wife together. When he
lamented to them the circumstance that had taken place,
and told the defendant that there was abundance of
evidence against them in his let ters,the defendant asked
him "what letters?" Witness shewed to him the
letters alluded to in the Counsel's speech, which letters
.he at once admitted to be his. The defendant Was about
.28 years of age; witness could not say what property
be possessed.
The letters from the defendant, which he had fre-
quently requested Mrs. Rawlings would burn, but
which she used to place carefully under her pillow
every night, were then read It was the practice of the
defendant to direct them to different persons, and to
address them to the Post-office, to remain there till
called for. The following ate extracts from the de-
fendant's letters.

" Mr Dial, DIAS POLLT—linee I parted with you my mind
has been dwelling with anxious pleasing anticipation on this hour
(for I fear I shall not be able to see los this evening), and how it
has evinced I am doomed to deplore, with many others, the total
inadequacy of language to convey to you the feelings which actuate
me. I could throw down my pen as useless; but the delightful
-conviction that I am affordihg ybu pleasure impels me to continue.
Did 1 feel less, I should find no difficulty in writing to you ; but
the love which fills my bosom cannot be described: it must be
felt. Do not think me unreasonable. lam very, vet • unhappy
when parted from you. I have not now the usual consolation of
looking forward to this evening, but must pus another whole day
Without yon, and in love's hours there are many days.' The bur,
tied manner in which we last parted bas not tended to souls my
uneasiness. Oh, my dear Mary I never again ask mc, do you love
another? As you can have no other cause, shall I suppose that
your own changing feelings dictated the question? No, Heaven
forbid ; I will not, dare not, cannot think so.
9 Think that the world may quickly end,
Think that man's heart is oft untrue;
• Think that the words the dying send
To Heaven may be deceptive too :
but do not think that I can cease to love yen. Rensentbei' your
declaration that my possession of your love is to be lasting as life,
and I shall not envy monarchs their crowns • and Oh remember
the td of December, and my dreams. eshall 110011 set ont for
Cheltenham, through the dear well-known fields. Every spot is
hallowed in my thoughts, for in those fields did I first behold the
light of Heaven, the sun of my existence.
" Your adoring devoted, '" J. M."
" Dec. 15, 1826.

" Mr nuaare POLLY You r society has become so necessary to
my happiness, that I murmur at the slightest interruption. To be
serious, let me at once express my hope that you are quite well,
and let this be the first question to which you reply in your answer
to this letter. Shall I say to ou, my dear girl, as Lege& of Ethic.
pia, said to himself,' This day shall be a day of happiness!'—of
happiness, inasmuch as yen will experience a short relief horn that
incessant chatter with which you havibeen overwhelmed for these
few nights past. I cannot forget your pathetic exclamation of last
night—' lam sure you never hear me talk very much when with
you.' Good faith ! no, my love, I leave such brief intervals for
you that you ayesquite unable to talk but by snatches and starts.
This shall be rilFedied, and I will restrain the exuberance of
speech which trenches so much on your female prerogative; but
you will believe me, when I say with Ornstic.--
" 04, my sweet, I peattle•out of fashion, and I dote
" In mine own cotnforts."
I think I hear you exclaim, What a tedious homily have yon wee.'
tied your parishioners withal, and never cried,' Have padence,good
people ; hut, as you told me to say all I felt and thought, even to the
utmost trille,.l trust you, will find some little circumstance to qualify
your impatience at my long narrations. lam very anxious to hear
bow you effected your return last night from the garden, whether
without suspicion or no; for I could not but observe the anxiety,
the unusual anxiety, depicted in your expressive countenance by,
what I thought and feared, apprehensions of the conseqeences—
Hasten to tell my fears are groundless, and I shall be happy. Do
not misunderstand me. My fear is for you only. For myself I
think not, when so infinitely superior a motive actuates me. I could
not consider any thing fraught with danger that led me to your
arms. To form and partake the happiness of the being I adore
would make every hazard contemptible, and rouse and justify the
utmost efforts of human resolution. As Cromwell bad his kicky
Sd of Sept. and Buonaparte his 41st of October,ao have Imy gd
of December. You will perhaps exclaim at my vanity for placing a
nameless being like myself in the same page with such men. I
have no actions performed on that day to hand down to posterity as
they have, but I will not yield to them in the pleasure or remem-
brance my day confers upon me. On that day was my love stamped
with a character it possessed not before
love is fidelity. Ipi umise to be inviolably faithful to you. . You
are the sovereign mistress of my affections, and will continue to
comotand them to thelast hour of my existence. Calumny and un-
merited slander first awakened the passion which now burns in my
bosom, and will but serve to preserve it bright and ardent. Adieu
—Goo bless you. Believe me your affectionate (J will not wound
your ears with the apoplexies name) and devoted soldier, ".1. M."
"January 7.

" STV DtAl, neas,ssaa Poccr—l write perhaps wildly, my dear
girl, and lam sure hastily.—l have Wale* away from expecting
friends, to afford myself at least a abort pleasure from heartless
mesnis4 discourse, for cannot, by any wmidly cares or pleasures,
divest my mind for a moment of yosr dear, tear self, Polly,
Polly, Pudy—•

Thine image only shall my breast employ,
" And fill my captied soul with shades of joy ;
" Direct my dreams by night, my thoughts by day,
" Mid never, never, from my bosom stray."
I have feared, my love, frequently since last evening, that you would
give me no thanks for conducting you such a dirty walk as I did. The
sun shines upon the rest of the world at this moment, but my sun is
withdrawnsand lam in darkness,deprived of the light of Mary's eves.
I shall never know happiness, indeed, until they shine upon me
cnastantly. I could fly to you on the wings of love in a moment;
but they are, I fear, effectually clipped to-night, and will prevent
my indulging in such a delightful excursion—l will say, not to-
night, that means all night, and I am sure I cannot sleep if I do
not at brat see at least the house which contained all I value on
',stn. I shall have the consolation of gazing on the room where
you will he rrpoaing, and perhaps, oh, blissful thought dreaming
of me, fur you say, my dear girl, that you always do 50...........1
conclude, my dear love, with Phaelreas' request to his mistress.
Take it to yourself. Continue to love me by day and by night—
want me, dream of me, expect me, think of me, wish for me, de-
light In me, he wholly with me—in short, be my very soul, as lam
yours.'—With renewed assurances of unfading, unalterable love and
affection, believe ate your own h—d and devoted right, "J. M."
Mr DZAZEST Love ..... —This boar is devoted to love and
Mary. I feel that your love b a counterpoise to all cares and mi-
series. The greatest misery I feel, the only one that I have com-
paratively to complain of, is my separation from you.
" Parting may be sweet sorrow to some people, my dear Mary.
To me it is sorrow without qualification. ' Love, says the Poet,
'is the daughter of idleness, but the pother of disquietude.' To
the latter part of the doctrine I willingly subscribe ; for oh! what