The Sun. — 1839-02-26 (London, England)

SKETCHES AT RANDOM.  CORONERS' INQUESTS. It affords an interesting problem to those who study human nature, to divine the cause of that eager and excited attention with which the ,rceeedings on Coroners' Inquests are always watched: i. One would have thought that in the dreadful exhibitions: of Kaman woe, and appalling displays of human crime, whL'h often take place at these inquiries, combined with details so'me'times the most revolting and disgusting, there would be" powerful repulsives, instead of attractions, to human feelings. But it is just the reverse, and those inquests are always most densely crowded, in which the spectacle is the most horrible, and the crime most awful. Long before even the legal authorities, or the still keener senses of the Penny-a-lintr who luxuriates in the " Tragic cccurrence," or Fiendish Murder," have " scented" the event, the doors of the building in which the investigation is expected to be conducted, are besieged by hundreds of earnest spectators, all anxiously waiting for the time when they may enjoy the frightful exhibition. 'Those philosophers who believe in the existence of  a principle in our nature, which absolutely delights, to a certain extent, in another's sufferings, and who to this principle trace what is usually called " sympathy," will of of course, quickly decide this problem. Those who hold that the origin of all sympathy in others' afflictions, is the fear lest we ourselves should soon become partakers of the same calamity, may likewise be able without much trouble, on their theory, to elucidate the question. But to those metaphysicians who teach the innate goodness of hum-in nature, it will be much more difficult to solve : and, indeed, may appear an inexplicable mystery. We, however, who bind not ourselves  to any of these theories can, in the mixed elements of our nature discover something approaching to a satisfactory explanation, without broaching any new or paradoxical hypothesis.  If the crowdsv-vho attend Coroners' Inquests were all, or chiefly of the lowest class, we might be obliged to have recourse to the discreditable theory of human nature's entire depravity. The principal portion, at least, of those who gain afbnittanee into the Inquest. room are persons of the middling order in society—very respectable, substantial individuals. To account for the eagerness with which they observe Caeproceedings we may allow something perhaps for that " carnivorous" character which foreigners reproach us English with— something for the indefinable feeling of interest, not to call it, according to severer moralists, delight, with which man gear's on the sufferings of his fellow-man— and something for that natural interest which amounts to almost a sense of apprehension, in the crime, or the calamity, which coming so near us, makes us feel that it places us in some degree of jeopardy. But we think the main source of this intense curiosity is to be found in that irresistible attraction which mystery always exerts on human nature, and which, when united to anything dreadful, rises to nearly an oppressive height. Thus it will be seen, that wherever the mystery is most profound— where, for example, the event to be inquired into took place many years back—the interest excited is pro portionately exciting and general. Whatever the cause, the result is unquestionable, in the untiring scrutiny with which inquiries of this kind are watched, the minuteness with which the smallest detail of evidence is canvassed, and the slightest hint discussed, by the enwrapped spectators : in the murmur which runs through the gazing crowd, when some fresh vestige of a death-struggle is describ d, and the hushed and breathless silence which accompanies the discovery of any new mark by which a murderer may be tracked.  Little doubt can be entertained that the same feeling which prompts this eager attendance on investigations into the tragedies of real life, attracts similarly-interested crowds to the representations of those mimic scenes of horror—those imitations of slaughter anti crime, which so disfigure that lowest and most degraded class of dramatic exhibitions, the blood-shedding, poison-drinking, throat-cutting, ghostseeing " melodramas," which " draw " such full " houses" at the minor theatres, and in which a fierce fight is sure to be " encored," and an " awful death " vehemently applauded. There is something strikingly opposite to the breathless :interest of the spectators in the off-hand, cool indifference of the authorities engaged in these post mortent investigations. It presents a melancholy evidence how much callousness is produced by familiarity with horrors ; and how easily the mind accustomed to the dreadful views it with with unconcern. The Beadle marshals the Jury _ „to behold the horrible spectacle of mortality, as carelessly as he would lead the charity school-boys to Church ; the i Surgeon, with professional precision, states the " lure of the injuries inflicted" (as they are technically called), and the Coroner, with a business-like air strongly contrasted with the agitation of the witness, to whom perhaps this is the first of scenes so dreadful, puts the usual questions, and notes the answers with clerkly formality— " Ah, you found the throat cut : how much ? Three inches, eh ?"  They think not—how should they ? They have be • held ►nany urrimely deaths, 'tis their business ; they think not of the corpse of the poor suicide—of the mental agonies, the physical afflictions, the days of fruitless toil—the nights of sleepless woe—the pangs of destitution—the silent misery of want—the burning tears shed over starving wife and famished children—the hopeless prospect of despair whk:ll must have driven the unhappy creature to seek relief front the burden of life, in the oblivion of a reckless self-destruction. And when the morbid curiosity is fully salated in the revolting narrative of misery and death—and when custom  or charity hits dictated the regular verdict, " fel() de se" —it's sickening to see how rapidly the horrors of the scene arc forgotten in inquiries after—dinner T.