The Sun. — 1849-12-05 (London, England)

PAID OFFICER.  TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN. SIR,—I address you on the subject of the recent execution, not with the view of keeping up the discussion which Mr. Dickens' letter has originated, but to suggest to him what I conceive to be a better method than his own of turning " this dreadful experience to some account for the general good." The eloquence of the picture he paints of the scene is less to be admired than the low opinion he seems to entertain of his fellow-creatures is to be deplored. Mr. Dickens is a close observer, and a vivid delineator of what is called the low life of London ; but if his observations in other instances had led to no better result than it has in this, much of it, I am afraid, must have been thrown away. He finds fault with the conduct of the mob, and well he may do so. More or less it has always been disgusting, brutal, and obscene, but does he imagine the abolition of public executions will improve either its taste or morality ? I apprehend, ,Sir, that the beings whom he deLounces with so much emphasis, as having the spirits of devils, though wearing the shapes of men, would still be animated by the same morbid feelings, the same vile passions that found vent upon this painful occasion ; but give me leave, Sir, to ask him this simple question—Upon whom should rest the blame of all this Mr. Dickens, I am sure, will not dispute with me that the existence of a state of things which admits of the vast majority of 30,000 people witnessing the violent death of two human beings, not only without pity but with absolute pleasure, indicates that there is something wrong somewhere. It can hardly be the fault of these people themselves, since their ignorance teaches them no better. The costermonger who screams with delight at the exaggerated and sanguinary incidence of a Victoria melodrama listens 'with impatience to the elegant periods of a Haymarket comedy, and sees, without emotion, a Sadler's Wells' tragedy; but it by no means follows from this that he is devoid of that innate faculty which, when properly developed, enables men to enjoy and appreciate the more elevated beauties of art. Now, may it not be so with these poor wretches whose wicked behaviour has provoked the natural, though warm, indignation of Mr. Dickens ? The tainted atmosphere in which they live and breathe renders them as callous to the awful example of the violent end of a convicted murderer, as it doubtless places them beyond the reach of the higher walks of the drama ; and I cannot help thinking that Mr. Dickens would render his country far more service by directing his attention and abilities to the purification of that moral atmosphere, rather than by uselessly seeking to do away with a grim spectacle, which, however dangerous and horrible it may be, at least possesses this advantage, that it serves as a barometer to test the extent of demoralization prevailing amongst the lower grades of society. If Mr. Dickens be really sincere in his wish to purge the metropolis of elements that are as infamous to our common manhood as they are degrading to a nation boasting to be the most civilized in the world, let him at once lend the energy of his great mind, and the industry of his powerful pen, to that small, but determined, band of philanthropists who are seeking to extend the moral education of the people, by agitating a removal of all taxes upon knowledge, whether they be imposed in the shape of an excised duty on paper, or the duty on advertisements, or the tax on foreign books, or the penny stamp on newspapers. Far be it from me, Sir, to advocate an unlimited  - F continuamcc of the gallows, but .1 believe, with one of our most exquisite of living poets, that "The child is father to the man." And while children are allowed to grow up into men, ignorant of everything in the nature of moral or religious discipline, and to pursue, unchecked, the bent of their own rude instinctive desires, I am constrained to look upon it as one of those necessary evils which time zud advanced civilization can alone destroy. 1 am, Sir, your obedient servant,