And, in the first place, he persists in maintaining that “had Hare and his wife not been witnesses, there is the best reason for supposing that the conviction of none of the four would have been obtained.” We would have been much better pleased, however, had this incurious apologist condescended to inform us in what this “best reason for supposing” consisted; as we confess our own inability to discover a shadow of “reason” for the “supposition” so gratuitously made. The point, we are well aware, is an important one for our opponent; because, unless he can make out that there was no case against Burke, without the evidence of Hare and his wife; in other words, disprove our argument that there was sufficient testimony to convict without the evidence of the accomplices at all, then our conclusion is inevitable, that Hare and his wife ought to have been at the bar, and not in the witness-box. But, strange to say, although the point at issue is so important to the justification which our adversary labours to make out, he has not ventured to bring forward a single argument, or show a vestige of “reason” or authority, for the opinion he so strenuously asserts. We shall not, however, follow his example in this respect, but state as shortly as possible the grounds upon which we hold that Hare and his wife ought to have been placed at the bar beside Burke and M‘Dougal.

The testimony of a socius criminis is good in law only in so far as it is corroborated by other testimony perfectly unexceptionable, or by circumstances of real evidence; and where it stands alone and unsupported, it is the duty of the presiding Judge to direct the Jury to pay no attention whatever to it. Let us apply this test to the evidence of Hare and his wife, and observe to what conclusion it will lead. The former, wherever he spoke to circumstances which fell within the knowledge of unexceptionable witnesses, differed from, or rather was flatly contradicted by them; and consequently his evidence in regard to these was of no avail whatever, except to impeach his own credibility. Again, he was contradicted by his wife in respect to several of the occurrences in Burke’s and Connaway’s on the evening of the murder; and both were contradicted in regard to other matters in which they agreed, by the unexceptionable witnesses. As to what they said in regard to matters concerning which no other person could speak, they stood alone and unsupported, and of course were not in law entitled to be believed; while they were farther discredited by the want of all corroboration in regard to circumstances spoken to equally by them, and by the unexceptionable witnesses. How then was it possible that any weight whatever could be attached to such evidence, either by the Court or the Jury, particularly the latter? Two miscreants, whose only title to be believed was their having been engaged in the commission of three murders, are adduced as witnesses to speak to one of them, and wherever their testimony is susceptible of being corroborated, it is flatly and pointedly contradicted by persons who are above all suspicion; and where it stands alone and unsupported, it is in the eye of the law worth nothing. Why, then, were such witnesses adduced at all? They were not necessary, because their testimony was not and could not be believed; and, in point of fact, their depositions served no other purpose, except to enable the Dean of Faculty to plead what would have been otherwise nearly an unpleaded case, and to point out such a formidable array of flagrant contradictions as to shake the minds of the Jury in regard to the effect of the unchallenged and unchallengeable testimony. The case, therefore, was, in point of fact, made out against Burke by other evidence than that of Hare and his wife; and as the same evidence which led to the conviction of Burke, would have also led to the conviction of Hare at least, we have again to submit that that hideous wretch, if not also his wife, ought to have been placed at the bar beside his brother murderer.

We are accused of having blamed the Lord Advocate “for not having possessed the gift of second-sight;” and various other follies which seem to have entered the imagination of our opponent, when heated with his subject, are also laid to our charge. To these, however, we disdain to offer any reply. We can well believe that the case opened upon his Lordship gradually, and that, had he now to retrace his steps, he would, in many respects, act differently from what he has done. With the very best intentions in the world, a Prosecutor may be placed in such circumstances as almost inevitably to lead him to bungle a case: but surely it can be no very heinous offence to point out such errors as a warning for the future, and at the same time to show how even at present they may be in a great measure remedied.—“The very head and front of our offending hath this extent—no more.” It is true, we called for further investigation, and we did our best to indicate what channels ought to be explored. That call has been answered, and inquiries have been set on foot which can scarcely fail to lead to important results. In regard to the nature of these inquiries, or the facts which have been elicited, we are for the present dumb. Our object is to aid, not to thwart, the progress of judicial investigation; and no wish to gratify the public curiosity, or any other motive indeed shall induce us to breathe a whisper calculated to defeat the great and necessary purpose which the Public Prosecutor is now labouring so zealously to accomplish.

In order to give a connected account of the preliminary legal proceedings respecting the contemplated trial of Hare, we shall delay introducing the subject at present. In a future number a detail of the whole proceedings will be given.

We now proceed to detail the particulars which we have carefully collected, with respect to the lives and characters of the several individuals who have been concerned in these nefarious transactions. Of these, the first we shall notice is,

WILLIAM BURKE.

We can pledge ourselves that every circumstance that is here narrated, has been obtained from such sources as to leave no doubt of its authenticity; it will be seen that while this memoir is a great deal fuller than any one that has appeared, it is also dissimilar, in many particulars, to the disjointed fragments that have been from time to time published; how these have been obtained, we cannot say, but we can aver that this account has been received from sources which may be relied on, and much of it from the unhappy man himself, indeed so much as to entitle us to say that it is almost his own account.

William Burke, whose crimes have condemned him to an ignominious death on the scaffold, describes himself, in his judicial declaration, emitted before the Sheriff-substitute of Edinburghshire, in relation to the cause for which he was tried, as being thirty-six years of age. He was born in the parish of Orrey, near Strabane, county of Tyrone, in Ireland, about the year 1792. His parents were poor, but industrious and respectable in their station, which was that of cottiers, occupying, like the most of the peasantry of Ireland, a small piece of ground. The Irish are remarkable for the avidity with which they seek education for their children, under circumstances in which it is not easily attainable. The parents of Burke seem to have been actuated by this laudable desire, as both William and his brother Constantine, must have received the elements of what, in their condition, may be called a good education, and superior to what usually falls to the lot of children in their rank in Ireland. He was educated in the Roman Catholic faith, which he has ever since nominally adhered to, though with little observance of its doctrines or ceremonies. He is by no means, however, a person of the brutal ignorance or stupid indifference that his callously continuing in a course of unparalleled wickedness, apparently without compunction, would betoken. He has sinned deeply, but it has not been altogether against knowledge, as he could at times put on a semblance of devotion; and during the fits of hypocrisy, or it may be, starts of better feeling, before he became so miserably depraved, his conversation was that of a man by no means ignorant of the truths of Christianity, and such even as to lead some to imagine him seriously concerned about his eternal salvation. During one of these temporary ebullitions about five years ago, he became an attendant on a prayer-meeting held on the Sabbath evenings in the Grassmarket. He was, for some time, remarked as one of its most regular and intelligent members. He never omitted one of its meetings, and expressed much regret when it was discontinued. As a Catholic, he was considered wonderfully free from prejudice, frankly entering into discussions upon the doctrines of his church, or those of other sects, with whose tenets he showed some acquaintance.

He read the Scriptures, particularly the New Testament, and other religious books, and discussed their merits. On a Sabbath, especially though he never attended a place of worship, he was seldom to be seen without a Bible, or some book of devotion in his hands.

At that time no one of his acquaintances would have admitted the idea for a moment that he was capable of committing such infamous crimes, and probably his own mind would have revolted at the contemplation of such enormities; but a continued indulgence in sin produced in him its never failing consequences in hardening and deadening the heart, and fitting it for the perpetration of deeds, which a little before the sinner would have shuddered at.