seers of the whole district, flocked to the
exciting scene, all dressed " in their best,"
having made up pleasure-parties of threes,
and fives, and sevens, in gigs and taxed-carts,
and market-carts—- with large parties in light
waggons and covered vans, as if to a gipseying
or " the races,"—- and all in the highest
glee. But, the mass of the assemblage
consisted principally of smockfrocked labourers,
their highlows and gaiters spattered with
mud, and their steps heavy with the number
of miles they had travelled to " the hanging."
There were hardly any respectable people
observable in the crowd, but a most disgusting
number of women. Some of these had
gay flowers in their bonnets, and evidently
set up for rustic belles; others were mothers
with their infants in their arms; others were
elderly matrons, presiding at the head of their
families, and from the elevation of the domestic
spring-cart pointing out to their young daughters
how they could best see the execution. All this
we find distinctly stated in the reports of eye-
witnesses; and a weekly contemporary (the
"Atlas ") makes the following additional
comments:

"Were legislation to cease altogether, we believe
that the force of private example and the improvement
of society would of itself work a gradual and
decided amelioration in the towns. The country
does nothing of itself, and legislation hitherto has
left it alone. In the country, we are convinced,
lies the great difficulty of future statesmen—- a
difficulty increased by the absence of information,
the temper of country people, the want of organisation,
and the passions, prejudices, and interests
of five hundred years. As if the country were not
bad enough when left to itself, our admirable
judicial regulations have supplied one of the most
perfect assistances to crime which human ingenuity
could well hit upon. In London, the very position
of the place of execution prevents the perfection
of the enjoyment of the show. Newgate front is
sombre, the space is confined; there are many
drawbacks on the public enjoyment. Springfield
gaol is in a fine open space, some way from the
town; the fresh breezes of the country are to
be inhaled round about it; the crowd have room to
give vent to the exuberance of their mirth, and to
enjoy in perfection the pleasure of their holiday.
Perhaps our legislators will take all this into
consideration, and make Springfield gaol the fixed
place of execution for all the criminals in the
surrounding counties, the metropolitan, of course,
included. As executions are to be matters of
diversion, let the principle be carried out, and the
diversion made as perfect as possible."

There is no escape from this. If executions
ought to be public, they cannot be too public;
if they ought to be private, they cannot be too
private. If it be wrong for the people to
come to them, why are the people invited to
come? If I set Hodge Styles a moral lesson
and make perorations in the House of
Commons to show that it can on no account be
dispensed with, surely I ought rather to praise
than blame Hodge for coming a long way in
his high-lows and gaiters to learn it!

Of domestic poisonings, violent murders,
and other barbarities, in the country, the
last two months have presented us a frightful
harvest. The great Metropolis,  with all
its vices and crimes, dwindles to nothing
in the comparison. Daniel Gibbs Hathway,
of Chipping Sudbury, Gloucestershire, poisons
his wife—- to all appearance, because she stands
between him and his servant-girl, whom he
much prefers. He is acquitted for want of
sufficiently direct evidence. Daniel Monday,
of Wootton-under-Edge, beats and kicks his
wife in the most brutal manner, so that she
dies. By the magic spell of some legal
reference to "the decision in Regina versus
Bird," this interesting member of society
is acquitted. Joseph Clarke, of Bath, having
murdered his wife, is found guilty of the
mitigated crime of manslaughter. Esther
Curtis, of Gloucester, goes to a public-house,
where her husband is drinking, to beg of
him to come home. She complains that,
while she works hard, he spends harder at
the alehouse. Whereupon he goes outside
with her, and, taking her into the garden,
flings her, doubled up, across an iron rail—-
throws his whole weight upon her—- and
beats her with his clenched fist until she
dies on the spot. When this gentleman is
informed that his wife is really dead, he
makes an exulting remark, too coarse to be
repeated. A jury, out of tender consideration
for his irresponsible condition (the poor
man being drunk, and all drunken men,
howsoever amiable when sober, being necessarily
impelled to murder their wives when in
liquor) designate this manslaughter. Several
wives, at the time we write, are under trial
for the poisoning of their husbands. We
shall see if the same favour be shown to
them. Perhaps the difference usually to be
observed in these cases, may be accounted
for, by the jury being all men. If the
jury were formed of women (we are not
proposing such a thing, be it observed, but
only supposing it,) the verdicts might as often
be the other way. Another distinction also
strikes us. The fact of a woman being the
lawful wife of a man, appears to impress
certain preposterous juries with some notion
of a kind of right in the man to maltreat
her brutally, even when this causes her
death; but, if she be not yet married, the
case assumes a different aspect in their minds
—- a man has then no right to murder a
woman—- and a verdict of murder is found
accordingly. George Carnt's case is one of
the last instances of this kind. George Carnt,
an agricultural labourer of Lawshall in
Norfolk, is in love with Elizabeth Bainbridge.
She refuses to have him. They have a
meeting in the fields—- some painful scene,
(not a quarrel, according to his confession)
takes place between them—- she threatens
suicide—- and, in result, he murders her. He
had previously borne a good character. He
makes no attempt to escape. He is at once