"There are at this time, in Newgate, upwards of Seven Hundred prisoners, the greatest number ever known to be in that place of confinement, at the same time."—(Morning Post, Dec. 5, 1788.)

"Kelly who was pilloried at Reading, brings actions against those who pelted him. This is a new cause of trial, but clearly a legal one."—(Morning Post, Dec. 23, 1789.)

Here, they evidently "caught a Tartar." The pelting could have been no part of the man's sentence—but what was the issue of his appeal to law, I know not.

About the year 1790, occurs a most singular police episode, so singular, and so comparatively unknown, that I cannot refrain from somewhat enlarging upon it.

In the early spring of 1790, murmurs began to be heard of ladies being attacked, and stabbed, by a monster in human form. The murmurs were low at first, and "monster" was printed with a small "m;" but, very shortly, they grew into a roar, and no capitals were found too large for THE MONSTER.

Indeed, even before that, and as far back as May, 1788, a Mrs. Smith had been stabbed in the upper part of her thigh by a man in Fleet Street, and was even followed by him to a house in Johnson's Court, to which she was going, and watched by him until she was let in. In May, 1789, a Mrs. Godfrey was similarly stabbed in Boswell Court, Fleet Street; and another lady was left wounded at her door. In March, 1790, a Mrs. Blaney, of Bury Street, was stabbed at her door after she had knocked. Dr. Smith, seeing an account of this outrage in a newspaper, inserted a notice in the Morning Herald, and that journal, having made some severe remarks on the matter, public opinion began to be awakened, and numerous letters were written, on the subject, to the newspapers of the day. The thing began to be talked of in the higher circles. A young lady named Porter had been stabbed whilst, in the company of her sisters, returning from the Drawing Room at St. James's, on the 18th of January, the Queen's Birthday; and since that time, several people had been wounded by this miscreant, who, fortunately, always failed in doing serious injury to his victims.

Mr. John Julius Angerstein (whose name will ever be associated with the commencement of our National Gallery) was very active, and inaugurated a subscription at Lloyd's, to which the guineas flowed merrily, for the capture, and conviction of the "Monster." The police began to bestir themselves, and they, too, issued placards. One will serve as a type of all:—

"Public Office, Bow Street,
Thursday, April 29, 1790.

"One Hundred Pounds Reward.

"Several ladies having, of late, been inhumanly cut, and maimed, by a person answering the following description, whoever will apprehend him, or give such information to Sir Sampson Wright, at the above office, as may be the means of his being apprehended, shall immediately upon his committal to prison, receive fifty pounds from Mr. Angerstein of Pall Mall, and the further sum of fifty pounds upon his conviction. N.B.—He appears to be about thirty years of age, of a middle size, rather thin make, a little pockmarked, of a pale complexion, large nose; light brown hair, tied in a queue, cut short and frizzed low at the sides; is sometimes dressed in black, and sometimes in a shabby blue coat; sometimes wears straw-coloured breeches, with half boots, laced up before: sometimes wears a cocked hat, and at other times a round hat, with a very high top, and generally carries a Wangee cane in his hand.