that he
hoped nobody would reflect upon her for the misfortune which had
befallen him, and then, with great piety and resignation in the midst of
fervent ejaculations, yielded up his last breath at Tyburn, at the same
time with the malefactor before mentioned, being at the time of his
decease about forty-three years of age.

The Life of JAMES CLUFF, a Murderer, in which is contained a concise
account of the nature of Appeals

To curb our vicious inclinations and to restrain those passions from the
sudden transports of which cruel and irreparable mischiefs are done, is
without doubt the best end of all instructions; and for my own part, I
cannot help thinking that this very book may contribute as much to this
purpose as any other that has been published for a long time. That vices
are foul in their nature is certainly true, and that they are fatal in
their consequences, those who, without consideration pursue them, feel.
There are few who will take time to convince themselves of the first,
but no man can be so blind as to mistake the latter after the perusal of
these memoirs, in which I have been particularly careful to describe the
several roads by which our lusts lead us to destruction; and have fixed
up Tyburn as a beacon to warn several men from indulging themselves in
sensual pleasures.

This unfortunate person we are now going to give the public an account
of was the son of very honest people who kept a public-house in Clare
Market. They were careful in sending him to school, and having taught
him there to read and write etc., sufficiently to qualify him for
business, then put him apprentice to the Swan Tavern near the Tower.
There he served his time carefully and with a good character, nor did
his parents omit in instructing him in the grounds of the Christian
religion, of which having a tolerable understanding he attained a just
knowledge, and preserved a tolerable remembrance unto the time of his
unhappy death.

After he was out of his time, he served as a drawer at several public
houses, and behaved himself civilly and honestly without any reflections
either on his temper or his honesty until he came to Mr. Payne's, who
kept the Green Lettuce, a public house in High Holborn, where the
accident fell out which cost him his life.

It seems there lived with him as a fellow servant, one Mary Green, whom
some suggested he had an affection for; but whether that were so or not,
did not very clearly appea