CONDUCT IN JAIL.

Burke since he went to Jail has been remarkably composed and devout. He has observed that he is by no means a bigot in religion; that besides Popish churches, he had, when a soldier, attended Presbyterian, Episcopalian, and Methodist ones, with the peculiar tenets of all which he appears to be perfectly conversant. He says that he has received instruction from good men of every faith; and that “real repentance and a strong belief,” are sufficient to ensure salvation.

He mentioned at first that he would wish to have a clergyman to attend him; and upon being asked of what persuasion he would like him to be, expressed indifference upon that point, but wished only one who would point out the way to salvation. He received the visits of the Reverend Mr. Marshall, minister of the Tolbooth Church, with whose ministrations he expressed himself much satisfied, and of the Reverend Mr. Porteous, chaplain of the Jail. One day Mr. Marshall, and the Reverend Mr. Stuart, Catholic priest, called to see him; and upon being asked which he would wish to converse with, he replied that he would have both; he has also received visits from the Reverend Bishop Paterson, and the Reverend Mr. Reid, Catholic priests; latterly, since the visits of clergymen of his own persuasion, he has declined those of Mr. Marshall, and they have consequently been discontinued. Whether it be that the horrors of his wretched death have been mitigated in the contemplation by the familiarity with it, which time must produce after the first shuddering sensations have passed away and left a comparatively apathetic calmness, certain it is, that he now displays less concern about the sin than he did during the first few days; he is penitent because his crimes have been detected and punishment awarded; but were not this the case, in all probability he would think little of the heinousness of the offences.

He continues to be particularly anxious that his associate Hare should be brought to trial, and receive the punishment he merits for his misdeeds, but asserts that it is not from any vindictive or revengeful feeling that he cherishes towards him, but from motives of humanity. When conversing lately upon the subject, he stated his perfect conviction, that if Hare should again be let loose upon society, he would recommence his murderous career when he wanted money; at the same time he declared that he was afraid the spirits of his future victims would reproach him in the regions of bliss, for not having taken means to get Hare executed, and thereby preventing their violent and untimely deaths.

A day or two after conviction he sent his watch and what money he possessed to M‘Dougal; and when informed that his mission was executed, expressed satisfaction, and observed, “poor thing it is all I have to give her, it will be of some use to her, and I will not need it.” He speaks in terms of great affection towards her, and anticipates that she will be allowed to have an interview with him before he suffers.

He is free and communicative to those who are necessarily about him, though strangers coming from motives of curiosity are excluded. Had liberty been afforded to the turnkeys to admit those who came, they might have cleared a handsome sum: so much as two guineas has been offered for admittance. He is watched day and night: and throughout the night it is ascertained every half hour that the watchman does not slumber at his post. Any thing by which self-destruction could possibly be effected is sedulously kept out of his way.

He is afflicted with a cancer which has been incorrectly stated to have been produced by a bite from Daft Jamie. It is of long standing, and distresses him much, and would, in all probability, have ended his days at no distant period, if he had escaped the gallows; and there is little doubt that Hare would have had no compunction in transferring his comrade’s body to the dissecting-rooms, as well as those he had so frequently trafficked in. This sore keeps him in great pain, and along with some of the adjuncts of prison fare and treatment, tends to divert his mind from his spiritual state to his bodily discomfort. The condemned cell, as he observed, is but a comfortless place, cold and cheerless and dreary, where hope, at least in such a case as his, never enters to enliven it; chained in such a place to the gad—much confinement to bed is necessary to produce a little warmth, especially at this season; while coarse bread and cold water are but unpalatable food for one who was accustomed to spend his profligate gains in debauchery and drunkenness. The very deprivation of ardent spirits must be felt as an intolerable grievance, and while it is properly withheld, food, that could in some degree supply the craving for stimulants that such a long course of indulgence cannot fail to have produced, might surely be afforded. It is not from any notion that his appetite should be pampered that we mention this, but from a desire that a man in his awful situation, standing on the brink of eternity, and to whom a few calm days may be of eternal import, should not have his mind distracted by any needless bodily mortifications. The law in this part of the island humanely allows a period for the purpose of giving an opportunity of repentance to the criminal, and time to make up his peace with God, while it at the same time annexes conditions which in some degree renders the indulgence nugatory for the purpose. The statute is a British one, and probably the legislators did not contemplate that an interval of six weeks should be spent upon this hard regimen.

Captain Rose, the Governor of the Jail, does all that humanity dictates to alleviate his situation.