Sir,--I beg leave to transmit for your use the following attempt at description of an old and singular custom, performed by the chairman of this my native city, which perhaps you are not altogether a stranger to, and which is still kept up among them as often as an opportunity permits for its performance. Its origin I have not been able to trace, but its authenticity you may rely on, as it is too often seen to be forgotten by your Bath readers. I have also accompanied it with the above imperfect sketch, as a further illustration of their manner of burying the “dead,” alias, exposing a drunkard of their fraternity. The following is the manner in which the “obsequies” to the intoxicated are performed. If a chairman, known to have been “dead” drunk over night, does not appear on his station before ten o’clock on the succeeding morning, the “undertaker,” _Anglice_, his partner, proceeds, with such a number of attendants as will suffice for the ceremony, to the house of the _late_ unfortunate. If he is found in bed, as is usually the case, from the effects of his sacrifice to the “jolly God,” they pull him out of his nest, hardly permitting him to dress, and place him on the “bier,”--a chairman’s horse,--and, throwing a coat over him, which they designate a “pall,” they perambulate the circuit of his station in the following order:-- 1. _The sexton_--a man tolling a small hand-bell. 2. _Two mutes_--each with a black stocking on a stick. 3. _The torch bearer_--a man carrying a lighted lantern. 4. _The “corpse”_ borne on the “hearse,” carried by two chairmen, covered with the aforesaid pall. The procession is closed by the “mourners” following after, two and two; as many joining as choose, from the station to which the drunkard belongs. After exposing him in this manner to the gaze of the admiring crowd that throng about, they proceed to the public-house he has been in the habit of using, where his “wake” is celebrated in joviality and mirth, with a gallon of ale at his expense. It often happens that each will contribute a trifle towards a further prolongation of the carousal, to entrap others into the same deadly snare; and the day is spent in baiting for the chances of the next morning, as none are exempt who are not at their post before the prescribed hour. I am, &c. W. G. * * * * * ~William Gifford, Esq.~ On Sunday morning, the 31st of December, 1826, at twenty minutes before one o’clock, died, “at his house in James-street, Buckingham-gate, in the seventy-first year of his age, William Gifford, Esq., author of the ‘Baviad and Mæviad,’ translator of ‘Juvenal and Persius,’ and editor of the ‘Quarterly Review,’ from its commencement down to the beginning of the year just past. To the translation of ‘Juvenal’ is prefixed a memoir of himself, which is perhaps as modest and pleasant a piece of autobiography as ever was written.”--_The Times_, January 1, 1827. * * * * *