While he was doubting how to act—for, clearly as he knew his power to hang the man who had outraged him, the very fact of his injury made him loth to use that power; for he was not at all a vindictive man, now the heat of the thing was past, and he saw that the sudden attack had been made in self–defence—while he was hesitating between his sense of duty and pity for Cradock on one hand, and his ideas of magnanimity and horror of hanging a man on the other, he was thrown, without any choice or chance, across the track of Simon Chope. Perhaps there is no more vulgar error, no stronger proof of ignorance and slavery to catchwords, than to abuse or think ill of any particular class of men, solely on account of their profession—although, perhaps, we might justly throw the _onus probandi_ their merit upon hangmen, body–snatchers, informers, and a few others—yet may I think (deprecating most humbly the omen of this conjunction) that solicitors, tailors, and Methodist parsons fight at some disadvantage both in fact and in fiction? Yet can they hold their own; and sympathy, if owing, is sure to have to pay them—notwithstanding, goose, and amen. Away with all feeble flippancy! Heavy tidings came to Nowelhurst Hall, Dell Cottage, and Geopharmacy Lodge, simultaneously, as might be, on the 20th of June. The _Taprobane_ had been lost, with every soul on board; and this is the record of it, enshrined in many journals:— “By recent advices from Capetown, per the screw–steamer _Sutler_, we sincerely regret to learn that the magnificent clipper–built ship _Taprobane_, of 2200 tons (new system), A 1 at Lloydʼs for 15 years, and bound from the Thames to Colombo, with a cargo valued by competent judges at 120,000_l._, took the shore in Benguela Bay during a typhoon of unprecedented destructiveness. It is our melancholy duty to add that the entirety of the valuable cargo was entirely lost, although very amply assured in unexceptionable quarters, and that every soul on board was consigned to a watery grave. A Portuguese gentleman of good family and large fortune, who happened to be in the neighbourhood, was an eye–witness to the catastrophe, and made superhuman exertions to rescue the unfortunate mariners, but, alas! in vain. Senhor José de Calcavello has arrived at the conclusion that some of her copper may be saved. The ill–fated bark broke up so rapidly, from the powerful action of the billows, that her identity could only be established from a portion of her sternpost, which was discovered half buried in sand three nautical miles to the southward. We have been informed, upon good authority, although we are not at liberty to mention our source of information, that Her Britannic Majestyʼs steamcorvette _Mumbo Jumbo_, pierced for twenty–eight guns, and carrying two, is under orders to depart, as soon as ever she can be coaled, for the scene of the recent catastrophe. Meanwhile, the tug _Growler_ has arrived with all the memorials of