another report. She was frightened, and went for help, and she then heard a third report. Mrs. Harris and some other persons then entered the house, and found the woman lying quite dead, and the prisoner still living, but severely wounded, lying on the floor with a revolver in his right hand. The revolver had five chambers, and upon being examined it was found that two were still loaded, but three had been discharged. The police came, and they found some letters and a 107.-note upon the prisoner. One of these letters was in the handwriting of the deceased woman, and was in these words :

"My dear, dear Ann,-These are the last words you will ever hear from me. I feel I have broken your heart. I desire to die, if I should reach America, in the Confederate army; that is, providing I can reach the Confederates by first joining the Northerns, then desert for the Confederates, for I feel they are a people that deserves fighting for. Oh, my darling Ann! I shall not have your kind and affectionate eyes and hands to watch over me, as you ever have done, particularly the last nine months, night and day. Had I never gone to Alresford, my happy home never would have been broken up. Give my kind and affectionate love to all, particularly those who have been kind and affectionate to me under my heavy affliction. I left all my affairs in the hands of Mr. Brown and Mr. Cooper. You will find my will and papers and about 507. or 607. in the cash-box. I hope all will be carried out as I have left it to be. I hope the Dr. (Mr. Tweed) will go to you, as I ordered him, immediately."

Then, in the prisoner's writing,—

"Dear Sarah,-Render all the assistance you can to my dear wife. Tell her not to fret about me; I am not worthy of her doing it. Good-bye. GEO. BROOMFIELD.

"I have my watch with me and about 10007. in money. I name this, as there might be some unpleasantness, and the watch I have named in my will."

There was another letter in the prisoner's handwriting, addressed to the husband of the deceased, and which was probably written while they were all absent from the house:

"My dear Mr. Colborne,-You must bear up under this heavy trial, same as one that I have left, she dying through the heavy trial I have brought upon her. I have always thought-since I have been so ill I cannot rest night or day, as I have constant ringing in my ears-that Carry must die with me. I feel we shall both meet again in heaven, where I trust we shall both meet you and my poor dear and affectionate dying wife. Yours will not be half the trial as the one I have left behind has gone through, and is now going through. I hope you will get some to telegraph to say I am dead. I wish you to do so, or some one,

to Mr. Brown, 49, Great Marylebone-street, Portland-place. Good-bye, and God bless and support you all under this heavy trial. "G. B."

"I hope you will forgive me, and let us both lay together till we shall be called forth to meet Christ; then all sorrow and trouble will be at an end. I have changed my mind in going away since dear Carry wrote the note, as I feel she must die with me. I got Mrs. Colborne to write this note, as I feel too ill to do so. "G. B."

These letters had been found upon the prisoner. He was taken to the infirmary. A surgeon there asked the prisoner what he had done it for. He said he had done it for love. The police remained in attendance upon the prisoner night and day. On the next morning after he was in the infirmary he said he wished to make a statement, and his words were written down:-"I am guilty of shooting Caroline Sophia Colborne on Saturday, December 3, but I was not at the time in a sound state of mind." On a subsequent occasion he made another statement:-"The letter found upon me I wish you to send to my wife; it was written by the dear creature Caroline Sophia Colborne in the cottage in her own house, and if I would stay over to-day she had lots to tell me." For a long time the prisoner hovered between life and death, but now, whether fortunately or not for him, he was sufficiently recovered to take his trial, and he was standing before the jury either to be relieved from the charge or to be condemned by their verdict. That the deceased came to her death by the hand of the prisoner there could be no doubt. She was shot through the heart. There could be no doubt as to the motive which had induced the prisoner to commit the act. It appeared that strongly, but wrongfully, he was in love with this deceased woman; he had tried to overcome the influence of that passion, but he had not been able to succeed, and it was evident he had come there with the determination, if he could not prevail upon the young woman to leave her husband, to take away her life. He was fond of her, and did not wish any one else to possess her. Then, what was the answer to this? He had no official intimation of the defence, but from some expressions that had dropped from the prisoner, and from questions that had been put for him in cross-examination of the witnesses, there was no doubt that the defence would be this-that although the deceased died by the hand of the prisoner, he was not at the time in such a state of reasonable power, in such a state of mental ability, as to make him responsible for the act. It was not the duty of the prosecution to make out that a prisoner was of sound mind; but, until the contrary was proved, the law assumed a person to be of sound mind and understanding. If the prisoner was sufficiently sane to know that he was committing an unlawful and wrongful act, he was responsible for the crime he had com

mitted. The prisoner had stated after the act that no one could tell what he had suffered in his mind for the last twelve months. When told the woman was dead, he expressed a wish that they should be buried in the same grave. He also said that he had been shot in the head.

Several witnesses were called to prove these facts.

Mr. Coleridge addressed the jury on behalf of the prisoner. He stated to the jury, with much force and clearness, the question they had to try-was he or was he not at the time he committed the act responsible for the consequences of the act which he did? The prisoner was a man of most blameless character, and this act was totally inconsistent with the whole tenour of his life. He was a gentle, affectionate man in disposition. There were cases of lovers being desirous of preventing any others but themselves becoming the husband or wife of the persons they were in love with, and doing some act for which they were responsible; but that was not the case here. The prisoner did not kill her to prevent her marrying another; she was a married woman; he was a married man, having great affection for and living with his wife; there was no object for his putting this poor girl out of the world. There was an alienation of mind with which it had pleased God to afflict him. He believed that this poor girl and himself and his wife were to die together; he yielded to an irresistible impulse to which his disease had urged him. He asked their verdict not for mercy, but for the sake of justice, that the mind was not his mind, that according to law he did not do it, and according to law he ought not to answer for it.

Several witnesses were then called, who bore out the learned counsel's statement as to the diseased state of the prisoner's mind.

The general evidence first was that the prisoner was a man of the highest moral and religious character. His masters with whom he had lived stated that he was the best servant they ever had. Lord George Beauclerk was out with the prisoner one day (in September, 1862) shooting, when Lord Falkland missed his bird, and shot the prisoner. He cried out, "Oh, I am shot!" and he fell into Lord George's arms. He was shot all over. He was taken home, a surgeon was sent for, and he extricated thirty shots from his head and back. He was altered in manner from that time.

Other witnesses detailed circumstances which had occurred which had led them to believe that his mind was gone. He was frequently crying; he believed his head was empty, and his stomach falling to pieces; he had an idea that his wife was dying, and that it had broken his heart. On the 3rd of December (the day of the murder) he got out of his house in South Molton-street under the pretence of getting a newspaper. He went to a Mr. Brown's and asked him to lend him 107., which witness did. Upon looking up witness saw his face, and was alarmed at its

appearance. He looked wildly, his eyes starting out of his head. He said he was going to America. Witness tried to detain him, but he slipped from him and got away. Witness was convinced that he was mad.

Dr. Tweed, surgeon, of Upper Brook-street, stated that he had known the prisoner as a patient for six years. He was first suffering from indigestion; it had since taken the form of melancholia. He had been subject to it for the last eighteen months. He complained of an emptiness in his head. He said his blood was turned to water. He felt a trickling from his heart. He was under great apprehension of death, and frequently sent to witness to come to him, as he feared his death. There was no reason for this. He suffered from lowness of spirits. He always imagined that he was going to die. Witness latterly thought the symptoms were suicidal, and gave directions that he should not be left alone, and should have frequent change of air and scene. His disease was mental. He did not require medicine, but he gave him some in order to quiet him. His mind decidedly was off its balance, and he thought it likely to become worse, and that he would probably become dangerous to himself, and perhaps to others.

There was not any attempt to prove any thing like love-making, or that the prisoner had formed an attachment for the deceased, and it was clear that she knew he was married.

The prisoner told one of the surgeons in the infirmary that he did not know how he came to leave London, but there was some impulse which he could not control.

The learned Judge, in summing up, observed that the prosecution had produced evidence, possibly satisfactory to their minds, that the prisoner did take the life of Caroline Sophia Colborne under circumstances that, unless the prisoner was legally irresponsible, would amount to the crime of murder. Having done that, the prosecution had discharged all the duty which the law cast upon them, and it was for the prisoner then to show, and to show clearly to the satisfaction of the jury, that his state of mind at the time he committed the act was such as to free him from responsibility. The defence now set up, and which had been so ably and eloquently impressed upon them by the counsel for the prisoner, was that at the time he committed the act he was irresponsible, in consequence of being in an insane state of mind; that he was in such a state of mind, and insane to an extent, as would free him from responsibility. It was not every aberration of mind that would free him. The aberration must be to such an extent as to disable him from distinguishing between right and wrong, with reference to the nature and quality of the act which he committed. The learned Judge then read to the jury the rule laid down in M'Naughten's case, and having done so, proceeded to place before them the evidence which had been adduced. The jury returned a verdict of "Guilty." Sentence of death was passed.

10. THE WIMBLEDON PRIZE RIFLE MEETING FOR 1865.-The great prize meeting of England for the competition of our volunteers in rifle shooting opened this day, and despite the occurrence in the same week of two such absorbing and interesting events as the great rifle contest of the country and the general election, the attendance was quite equal to that of any former year. The competition on the first day consisted of

The City of London Bronze Medal, between ten first-class shots of the brigade, at 200, 500, and 600 yards, won by ColourSerjeant Cross, with a score of 43.

The Oxford and Cambridge Bronze Medal, at 200, 500, and 600 yards, five shots each, six on each side, won by Oxford, with an aggregate score of 173, against Cambridge's 169.

The Tower Hamlets Bronze Medal, five shots, at 200, 500, and 600 yards, won by Private Berkly, of the 2nd Tower Hamlets, with a score of 32.

The Middlesex Bronze Medal, with two prizes of 57. each and other prizes, won by Serjeant A. Anderson, 22nd Middlesex (Queen's), with a score of 45; Serjeant W. Michee, London Scottish, being second, with a score of 41; ranges, 200, 500, and 600 yards, five shots at each.

The most exciting match of the day was the All Comers' County Match, at 800 and 900 yards, eight men from each, and in which the counties entering into competition were Aberdeenshire, scoring a total of 484; Gloucestershire (headed by Earl Ducie), 471; Lancashire (headed by Captain Henton), 530; Middlesex, 495; Surrey, 400; and West York, 455. Lancashire, it will thus be seen, was the winning county, with Middlesex for second.

Second Day (11).-The day was cloudy and gusty, and little adapted for making good scores; it was, however, what was called the "boys' day," hence a very large assemblage of spectators was the consequence. The competition, which brought out groups of eleven each from the schools of Harrow, Eton, Rugby, Cheltenham, Marlborough, and Winchester, was for the Ashburton Shield, and Earl Spencer's Cup, shot for by the youths making the highest score for the former amongst each squad. On this occasion the excitement of the contest was increased by the fact that Harrow not only won the Ashburton Shield, but that a little fellow, named Serjeant Jones, who not only contributed to the above event by making the highest score in his squad, also succeeded in carrying off Earl Spencer's Cup. This young gentleman had the honour of being carried on the shoulders of his comrades round about the common. The scores for this interesting competition were :-Harrow 216, Marlborough 209, Rugby 204, Winchester 198, Eton 193, Cheltenham 183. At the final competition for Earl Spencer's Cup, at 500 yards, the scores were :— Serjeant Jones (Harrow) 19, Private Taylor (Cheltenham) 14, Captain Collyer (Rugby) 13, Private Marriott (Winchester) 13,