was presently
interrupted by a difference of opinion, attended with great vociferation, they
calling upon one and another to decide it to no purpose, one paying no attention
to their summons, and another leaving them in the midst of their story, being no
longer able to endure his own internal anguish in the midst of their mummery.
    It is a custom among thieves to constitute a sort of mock tribunal of their
own body, from whose decision every one is informed whether he shall be
acquitted, respited or pardoned, as well as respecting the supposed most skilful
way of conducting his defence. One of the housebreakers who had already passed
this ordeal was stalking up and down the room with a forced bravery, exclaimed
to his companion that he was as rich as the duke of Bedford himself. He had five
guineas and a half, which was as much as he could possibly spend in the course
of the ensuing month, and what happened after that it was Jack Ketch's business
to see to, not his. As he uttered these words he threw himself abruptly upon a
bench that was near him, and seemed to be asleep in a moment. But his sleep was
uneasy and disturbed, his breathing was hard, and at intervals had rather the
nature of a groan. A young fellow from the other side of the room came softly to
the place where he lay with a large knife in his hand, and pressed the back of
it with such violence upon his neck, the head hanging over the side of the
bench, that it was not till after several efforts that he was able to rise. Oh,
Jack! cried this manual jester, I had almost done your business for you! The
other expressed no marks of resentment, but sullenly answered, Damn you, why did
not you take the edge? It would have been the best thing you have done this many
a day1!
    The case of one of the persons committed for highway robbery was not a
little extraordinary. He was a common soldier, of a most engaging physiognomy,
and two and twenty years of age. The prosecutor, who had been robbed one evening
as he returned late from the alehouse, of the sum of three shillings, swore
positively to his person. The character of the prisoner was such as has seldom
been equalled. He had been ardent in the pursuit of intellectual cultivation;
and was accustomed to draw his favourite amusement from the works of Virgil and
Horace. The humbleness of his situation, combined with his ardour for
literature, only served to give an inexpressible heightening to the
interestingness of his character. He was