I remember a time (not so very long since) when the slaughter of a single man or woman sufficed to rouse the whole country to the highest pitch of excitement, to fill all the newspapers with immense columns of details and particulars, leaders, pleaders, observers, and examiners, which was daily renewed in shape and colour, with additional remarks, and so kept up the steam for a month or more, until another drunkard happened to suffocate another drunkardess, when the wheel set to turn on its rounds and round abouts again, till new orders.