30 APRIL 1831, Page 11

ALDERMAN SCALES. — The case of the successful candidate for Portsoken Ward

was heard last week. In proof of the Alderman's quarrel- some disposition, the Green Yard case was gone into. A witness proved that Mr. Scales had broken open the Green Yard gate—a parcel of his sheep had been confined for being driven through the City during divine service. Several extracts from inquest-books were given in, showing that unsound meat had been repeatedly found on his premises. Detailed evi- dence was given of a jack-ass which 31r. Scales had killed and got dressed

like a calf—not that it might be sold for veal, as run the charge, but evidently, in the pride of superior science, to hoax his brother butchers. As this part of the case afforded " much laughter" to the Court, we quote a specimen.

Thomas Wheel described the killing and dressing up of the ass ; he added that it was not exposed for sale.

Mr. Stubbing (the Common Councilman and a butcher) said—" I was passing by Mr. Scales's shop at five in the morning. and he called me, and we went backward together, and he showed me an ass dressed and blowed like a calf. He asked me what it was, and I didn't know, but I thought it was a buffalo. He said, Go along, you fool, it's an ass !' I told him he was au ass to have such a thing in his shop, and he said he'd sell it in an hour."

Mr. Alley—" Did not you say it was a kangaroo ?" Mr. Stubbing—" No, never." Sir Peter Laurie—" Was it a fat ass or a lean one ?" (Mr. Stubbingis a large man.) Mr. Stubbing—" I don't understand anything about it. He told me he'd self it in an hour; and I said I would not for 5001. that it was in my shop, for I knew it didn't ought to be in such a place." „. Cross-examined by Mr. Alley—" I think he did it out of a banter. I don't think als ill of any man as to think he wnuld kill an ass for the selling on it." J. Lilly, an unfortunate butcher, said—Scales had offered to sell him the donkey calf. " The ass was dressed like a calf, and blowed out ; I didn't buy it ; Scales marked it as sold, by sticking a skewer in the leg." Mr. Alley—" Didn't you call it a Bob ; and didn't lie correct you, and call it a Ned I" Witness—" No ; he never said it was a Ned. I remember it, for it was the ruin of me." Sir Peter Laurie—" How so 1" Witness—" I was accused of having it up to 'my Own shop." Alderman Garratt—" Who reported that 1" Witness..." It was reported by thou- sands. Mr.Scales himself said he sold the Radical to Jack Lilly ; so that I went down with the public."

Mr. Blackburn gave evidence to violent language used by the Alder- man on St. Thomas's Day : the words were—" I bate you, I detest you, and I'll expectorate upon you." He also called the Recorder a cadave- rous-looking wretch ! Mr. Bilton, an attorney, spoke to a verdict for an assault in a vestry-room at Bow. Dr. Herschel!, the Jewish Rabbi, gave evidence of the Jews having employed SIr. Scales, and of their ceasing to employ him on suspicion of his altering the seals on the meat. The Report of the Committee since given in to the Common Council describes the charges as frivolous and unfounded. Some suppose Mr. Scales will be admitted among the worthy brethren of the gown and chain without farther dispute.

Ma. YouNG THE ACTOR.—This fine performer and respectable man took his farewell of the Ediaburgli stage about a fortnight ago, after playing Hamlet ; and we regret to leant, from his speech on the occasion that the hour of his retiring finally from the profession, which he has long adorned, draws near. "Habit," said the actor, "has so long accustomed me to illustrate the character and develop the meaning of others, that now when I am called upon to appear in my own character, I never felt more :et a loss to give expression to my feelings. It is now thirty-one years since I first made my bow to this audience and on this spot. At that time, I was cheered by your smiles, and encouraged by your approbation. You will pardon me for a brief time, as I am now about to close the scene, if I en- deavour to state what were my feelings when I first came among you. At that time I had not been long on the stage. and left, I may say, a nursery of kind friends, whose partiality might have deceived me. I came here amonz _von as among stran- gers, but aware of your taste and judgment, and resolved to be guided by your decision, as to whether I should in future prosecute or relinquish the hazardous profession in which I had engaged. It will be in the memory of many of you, and I acknowledge it with deep gratitude, that the approbation with which you honoured me upon that occasion, laid the foundation of any little fame which I have since had the good fortune to enjoy. Upon every subsequent visit to you I have been received with the same kindness and apyrnhation ; and the only return which it was in my power to make, was by a faithful discharge of my duties; and it was accordingly my study to endeavour, on each successive yf.it, to show that the little talent which you were pleasedto flatter and ea courage had not been deterioratedbv any want of diligence on my part. It would be idle to repeat the same old tale; but still I cur nnot forbear saying that I never came among you without receiving fresh proofs (.f your kind- ness ; and that consideration, of itself, adds to the pain which I at this moment feel In bidding you a last but a grateful farewell. I have been asked the cause of my leaving the stage while yet in possession of those powers by which I have been en- abled so long to secure public favour. I will state to you the simple reason. I have, by long prudence and care, acquired the possession of a moderate independ- ence. I have been told of the pain it will cost me to relinqnish a profession in which I have been so long engaged. I am aware of the truth of this, but I Oink it better to meet this trial while yet in possession of physical strength, and some little remains of that intellect, which it would be coaceited in me to disclaim, seeing that by it I have so long enjoyed your applause. In short, I think it better to retire at fifty- four than at sixty-four, if I should happen to live so long, and while still retaining the means of actively employing myself during my remaining years. And now, once more, with the most sincere and heartfelt feelings of affectionate gratitude to you who were my earliest and have been the kindest patrons I ever had, ladies and gentlemen, I respectfully bid you farewell."

The Courant adds—" Mr. Young then retired amid the loudest and most universal plaudits we ever heard uttered within the walls of the Edinburgh theatre."