Among cases other than literary, a notable one is that of Titus Oates (1685), who, being convicted of perjury, was sentenced to stand in the Pillory and be whipped at the Cart’s-tail. The lashing was so cruelly done that you feel some pity even for that arch rascal. The curious computed that he received 2256 strokes with a whip of six thongs--13,536 strokes in all. Yet the wretch lived to enjoy a pension after the Revolution! There was another remarkable instance that same year. Thomas Dangerfield, convicted of libelling the King when Duke of York, was sentenced to a fine, to the Pillory, and to be whipped from Aldgate to Newgate, and from Newgate to Tyburn. The dreadful work was over, and he was returning prisonwards in a coach, when there steps forward Robert Francis, a barrister of Gray’s Inn, with the cruel jibe, “How now, friend? Have you had your heat this morning?” Dangerfield turned on him with bitter curses (“Son of a wh----” is the elegant sample preserved by the records). Francis, much enraged, thrust at the aching, smarting, bleeding wretch with a small cane, and by mischance put out an eye, so that in two hours Dangerfield was dead; and no great while thereafter he himself was tried, condemned, and hanged. According to the testimony of the Rev. Mr. Samuel Smith, Ordinary at Newgate, he made a very edifying end. Quite interesting is the case of Japhet Crook, _alias_ Sir Peter Stringer, whose unhappy memory is preserved in some of Pope’s most biting lines. In 1731, poor Japhet stood in the Pillory at Charing Cross for forging a deed; when the hangman, dressed like a butcher, “with a knife like a gardener’s pruning knife cut off his ears, and with a pair of scissors slit both his nostrils.” The wretch endured all this with great patience; but at the searing “the pain was so great that he got up from his chair.” No wonder! Two years after Eleanor Beare, keeper of “The White Horse,” Nuns Green, Derby, was pilloried (August 1732) after just escaping the gallows for murder. She mounted the platform “with an easy air”; thus exasperating a mob already ill-disposed, which bombarded her with apples, eggs, turnips, and so forth; so that “the stagnate kennels were robbed of their contents, and became the cleanest part of the street.” Managing to escape, she dashed off, “a moving heap of filth,” but was presently seized and lugged back; and at the end of the hour she was carried to prison, “an object which none cared to touch.” A week after she was again forced to take her stand. The officer noted that her head was wondrous swelled, and he presently stripped it of “ten or twelve coverings,” whereof one was a pewter plate. Her aspect was most forlorn, but the crowd, no whit moved, pelted its hardest, and she was borne away more dead than alive. Yet she too not only lived, but “recovered her health, her spirits, and her beauty.” Two lighter instances, and I have done. In the early