Yesterday, two men were executed in front of the gaol, for robbing the mail in June last: they died with the greatest fortitude. It gives me a sort of carelessness about death to see such sights. One of the unfortunate men, John Bynge, worked in Belfast with a Charles Davis, at the time I was taken up; he knew me very well, and lamented greatly that he was to die for a crime he was ashamed of, and not for the cause of his country. The morning of his execution, going past our window to execution, he turned round and saluted us with the greatest composure. You desire to know what effect the trials being put off will have on the prisoners. It is impossible to say, or to account for any proceeding of Government, as they appear the most capricious set of mortals on the face of the earth, without either principle or wisdom: it is probable that they may be ashamed of confining men fourteen months for nothing. Mr. Sampson was here the other day; he and I had a conversation about matters here; he wished much to do every thing disagreeable away, but I doubt it is out of his power. At all times I have acted according to what I thought right, and hope I will do so, careless who I offend thereby.

H. J. M’C.