about the same time, left him a legacy of ten thousand pounds! On this occasion he was seriously advised, if possible, to retrieve his character; and, that he might not have the temptation of want for the renewal of his offences, the executor of his mother's will suffered him to draw upon him at discretion. But so indiscreet and imprudent an use did he make of this indulgence, that in less than three years nearly all the money was exhausted. He had for some time existed by depredations, and was at length taken up for a house-robbery. While in prison Mrs. Bellamy recognised him; and, at the age of three-and-twenty, he suffered for a robbery, committed two years before, after squandering a very respectable fortune. He demeaned himself decently at the gallows, and his body was taken away in a hearse. The particulars of the robbery for which he paid his life a forfeit are as follow:-Mr. Bellamy deposed that on the 6th of June, 1791, he, in company with Mrs. Bellamy, his wife, was stopped in a post-chaise near Epsom, by three footpads, who demanded his watch and money, and threatened to blow his brains out if he refused: that he (Mr. Bellamy,) presented a pisto' at them, and said he was ready for them; on which the prisoner (Chamberlain) fired a pistol into the carriage, and immediately afterwards, with one of his companions, dragged Mr. Bellamy out of the chaise, took his watch and money from him, aud then wounded him with a cutlass in a very dangerous manner. Mrs. Bellamy corroborated the whole o her husband's evidence, and positively swore to the person of the prisoner, who, she deposed, took bank-notes from her to the amount of ninety pounds, telling her that he would blow her brains out in she turned her head; and that he would teach Mr. Bellamy to carry pistols again; that on the 1st of May last she was sent for to the New Gaol in the Borough, where she immediately recollected the prisoner, who turned from her, and could not be prevailed upon to look her in the face. JOHN SWINDEN, JOHN SWINDEN was a letter sorter in the General Post-office, a situation which gave him frequent opportunities of committing the most dangerous and worst species of robbery, the crime being aggravated by breach of trust. He was indicted for feloniously secreting, in the city of London, a certain letter, containing a Bank of England note, to the value of fifteen pounds, which had come into his possession by virtue of his employ. Peter Wed, and others, proved the charge, and he was found guilty: the jury, however, recommended him to mercy; but a breach of trust in any of the public offices is of so dangerous a nature, that their humane request could not, consistent with the public property, be in this case complied with. There was something singular in the case of this unfortunate man. He was first committed to prison in the preceding September, and at the ensuing sessions, the evidence for the crown not being ready, his trial was put off, and he was admitted to bail. He honorably surrendered himself, but put his trial off till next sessions, alleging the absence of a material witness; but when the fatal time came, he was found guilty. The principal witness, and indeed the only one that could affect the life of this unfortunate man, was so friendly to him, that he absconded, and lay concealed at Birmingham, and the post-master offered a reward of fifty pounds for discovering him. But Swinden, being out upon bail, discovered to a friend, as he thought, where the witness lay hid. This friend discovered the retreat, the witness was brought to Loudon, and Swinden prosecuted to couviction. Whilst under sentence of death, he behaved in a penitent manner, and, having good friends, made great interest for a respite; but finding all hopes in vain, he prepared in earnest to meet his awful fate. The following is a copy of a letter to his wife, while under sentence of death: "Cells of Newgate, Tuesday night, ten o'clock. My dear wife,-Wretch that I am! how shall I expiate my guilt?-my own sufferings cannot sufficiently atone for the load of afflictions I have brought upon you, my dear Mary, and upon our unhappy children. Forgive me, my dear, if you can, and we may yet meet together in a happier place, where there are no wants to tempt us to wickedness. I know you must struggle hard in this world; you will meet with shame and reproach you have not merited; but bear it with resignation; and, above all things, my dear wife, be careful to bring up our children in all humility; inspire them with an early sense of religion, their duty to God and man, and to shun that fatal extravagance which has been their father's ruin; teach them to curb their passions, and to check their unreasonable desires, or, like me, they may be tempted, and suffer the punishment so justly due to dishonest practices. 'My dear Mary, I know not how to bid you farewell! The thought wrings my heart! but we must part! a few more unhappy hours, and I shall be no more! God grant us both strength and grace to bear our sufferings with a patient resignation to his will, and may he, for Christ's sake, forgive us our sins, then we shall be happy for ever after. Farewell, my dear love, farewell! • JOHN SWINDEN.' The following is a copy of another, written the night before his execution: My dear wife,-I take the last opportunity, allowed me in this world, to return you my dying thanks for the affection, sincerity, and love, which I have ever expe rienced from you, and particularly during my present awful and deplorable situation. Since it is dooined that we must part, let me beg of you to submit, with patience and resignation, to the will of the Almighty, trusting in the sure and certain hope of a joyful meeting in Heaven, by the blood of our blessed Redeemer, Jesus Christ. I beg that you will return my unfeigned thanks to all my friends, for their kind efforts in my favour; and tell my enemies that I forgive them, as I myself hope to be furgiven. "And that the Lord may bless and comfort you, is the prayer of your dying husband, J. SWINDEN.' He suffered with John Innes, July 11, 1794, and behaved in a very penitent manner. ROBERT WATT AND DAVID DOWNIE, CONVICTED OF HIGH TREASON. WE are now arrived at an alarming period in the modern history of our country. Just engaged in the war with France, we were perplexed with disaffection at home, and threatened with invasion by our enemy. Confederate bodies of dissatisfied men were formed, from London to Edinburgh, pursuing a systematic course of treason, and corresponding with each other, until government stretched out its powerful arm to defeat their plans. Watt and Downie were principals in the Scottish conspiracy, and their trial came on before the High Court of Justiciary, at Edinburgh, on the 3d of September, 1794, when Mr. Anstruther stated the case on the part of the Crown. He began by observing, that such was the pe VOL. III. culiar happiness of this country, The laws of treason were now.the 79 The him; 3. Assisting his enemies. He would not trouble the Court or Jury with the two last: the single species of treason charged in the present case was the compassing and imagining the death of the king; which was defined by the conceiving such a design; not the actual act, but the attempt to effect it. But the law which thus anxiously guarded the sovereign was equally favorable to the subject; for it does not affect him until that imagination is fully proved before men of his condition.' An overt act of treason is the means used for effectuating the purpose of the mind: it is not necessary to prove a direct attempt to assassinate the king; for the crime is the intention, and the overt act the means used to effect it. He wished not that these sentiments might be held as the opinion of counsel: they were founded on the construction of the ablest writers, Chief Justices Foster, Hale, &c. and, whatever could be proved against the prisoners, which might endanger the king's person, was an overt act of high treason, in the language of the ablest writers. After explaining more fully the distinct species of treason which applied to the present case, Mr. Anstruther said, he trusted that if he could prove any design whereby the king's person would be in danger, that was an overt act; if he was wrong, the judges would correct him. He next stated the facts on which these principles of law were to be laid. The present conspiracy was not, he said, that of a few inconsiderable individuals: it had risen, indeed, from small beginnings; from meetings for pretended reforms. It had been fostered by seditious correspondence, the distribution of libellous writings, and had, at last, risen to a height, which, but for the vigilance of administration, might have deluged the country, from one end to the other, with blood. The proceedings of these societies, calling, or rather miscalling, themselves Friends of the People, were well known: their first intention was apparently to obtain reform; but, this not answering their purpose, they proceeded to greater lengths. He meant to detail the general plans and designs formed among the seditious, and then to state how far the prisoners were implicated in them. The first dawning of this daring plan was in a letter from Hardy, Secretary to the London Corresponding Society, to Skirving, the secretary to the Friends of the People here. He writes, that, as their petitions had been unsuccessful, they must use separate and more effectual measures. Skirving answered, and admitted the necessity of more effec tual measures; that he foresaw the downfall of this government, &c. Here also was the first notice of a convention; a measure which it is no wonder they were fond of, when they saw its effects in a neighbouring kingdom (France). They meant not to petition Parliament, but to proceed in their own plan, and supersede the existing government of the country; and, in that case, the king's life was put in danger. Soon after, a convention, a body unknown to the laws of this country, met; and in this there would have been little harm, had their views been peaceable; but their objects were avowedly unconstitutional, and their intention to carry on their plans by force, and thus virtually to lay aside the prerogative of the king. This convention accordingly met, using all the terms, regulations, &c. adopted by the convention of another country; in which it might be said there was in reality little harm, but it was surely a marking proof of their designs. They meant not to apply to Parliament; for, whenever that was mentioned, they proceeded to the order of the day. They resolved to oppose every act of Parliament which they deemed contrary to the spirit of the constitution, and were determined to sit until compelled to rise by a force superior to their own. The convention, indeed, was dispersed by the spirited conduct of a magistrate, (Provost Elder,) whose merit every one was forward to acknowledge, and to whose active exertions the country was so much indebted; but another convention was attempted to be called, who were to frame their own laws, and to be independent of the legislature; or, as they say, independent of their plunderers, enemies, and oppressors, meaning the King, Lords, and Commons: their resolutions will prove that they meant to create a government of their own, to do away the authority of what they called hereditary senators and packed majorities; all which prove the intention of putting the king's life in danger. But what, it may be said, is all this to the prisoner at the bar ? who, surprising as it may appear, about two years ago wrote letters to Mr. Secretary Dundas, offering to give information as to certain designs of the friends of the people. These letters were answered with that propriety which has ever marked that gentleman's public conduct. The prisoner then corresponded with the lord-advocate, the particulars of which would appear, as his lordship was subpoenaed. Since September, 1793, this correspondence had ceased. Previously to that period, the prisoner was not In fact, a committee of cor- The prisoner had moved for a They corresponded with Hardy respecting the calling of a new convention, which was to follow up the purposes of the old one; and, as the prisoner was present, he was in this way coupled with the British Con vention. Their next attempt was to debauch the minds of the soldiers, and to excite them to mutiny: for which purpose a paper was printed, and circulated among a regiment of fencibles then at Dalkeith. This paper, which was evidently seditious, would be brought home to the prisoner, for the types from |