The Express. — London, England, 1851-06-21 00:00:00

LITERATURE. always 90. Strange as it may scent to you, !lave sat in high plum., been caressed by haughty =., and kissed the hand of royalty. I was proud then, but my pride was destined to be lowered. First came humiliation, then Da *Orr Conroy. By Captain :goatee. Culburn and Co. Ten) , ; faugh ! those yelping suns culottes, ho w t h ey howled About three years ago Capt. 'Haman, nephew of and snarled till they had hunted us Mg or Paris." St. Paul's literary dean, gave the world, in a volume " Cannot you enjoy yourself in London as well ?" of " Murray's Home Library," some lively pictures "It might be tolerable, had I the means to make it of Andalusia and Spanish life. In the three v o l umes so to . But „ to live in this desert, ,with ou t mone y, i s h ar d bow published the gallant author has embodi e d re- ' ugh„hali , want i t, me dear sir, if f succeed Collections of character and scenery stored up . whilst thro your means; that trifle is but an earnest of what 1 owing with his regiment in our West India islands. will do when my ends accomplished." For the purpose of displaying these he has chosen a ' At this moment a servant opened the door, and an nounced one of the king's physicians. ll:Tared btoo—a high-souled young gentleman, whom, aft er . , a little surprised at seeing a shabbily man hmesting with becoming iny;t:7, :Ind duly plunging s i tt i ng familiarly at the tame table with the fashionable him in all the distress of unrequited love,—h o with- baronet , but he was a man of courtly manilas, and when Out more ado suddenly transports to Dominica, and Sir Waller introduced the abb6 as an Mil friend whom he Seta him down as captain of a King's company, just , bad sot seen he yea" be returned the Prie.2t's haughty as the republican commissioner, Vi c t or H ague' , i s bow pedamily, and offered his diamond-studded snuir-...x. bast' in the C'arribean sea atta c ki ng an d K ara sin ; The tomumt pressed him to be meted ' but he declined, and B „ un b ind sanding b y the ta bl e. the ponce. *ens of the " tyrant George." " How is yoor patient ?" said the baronet. ithout troubling ourselves with the plot of the The 'byname 4sook his head, and took a pinch of snuff novel, w hich requires the gradual development before he replied, " She is :limy ill indeed. It was a stroke Of the story to make it interesting, let us turn over , Ifetimnirtitl:ndblinfejLthas she n broenr%nroyreareron..7er from it, for these leaves and select whatever striking or beautiful ii a n wit h t h e b etter ," thought the baronet. " This will Sketches may be enjoyed apart teas the main theme. be a mil blow to her only son, poor fellow ! I sent for him The first extract shall show us how a good prows- heir„ yen arrived; but I fear he will come too late." taut may be made to die in the communion of the "He will," said the physician, solemnly.. " There is in holy catholic church. It is only n to pre- deed as hope • Mn. Conway will die to night." "This is ..a, indeed. Has she spoken ? Has she reco gnise that the wealthy Sir William D evere is dead, Ten d her senses?" having willed his enormous possessions to a distant .. She was in a state of coma when I arrived, but before relative, on condition that that person should not I left there was evidence of a partial return of the senses, marry a catholic. The lady actually married, a firm and her lir moved. By the bye, continued the phy , i , rician, protestant, is supposed to be just dying, and the and whispering in the baronet's ear 1 did it nol l t i w that Mrs. Conway catholic." ' =et mentioned is rho heir-et-law, who thinks Sir Walter looked athim y with astonishment, and hardly to profit by making her a catholic. suppressed an exclamation; but said quickly, in a low voice, THE PUIRST AT THE DEtTil-RED. "ilia?, known it for some time." The wind murmured and sighed mournfully amongst the "I was, I mates., taken by surprise," resumed the phy leafless trees in St. James's Park. There were faint dashes olden, in a hurried whisper, . when standing by her side, gleaming across the dark sky, and occasionally a low, r um - I saw her snaking signs for me to stand back. I turned bling sound came borne on the heavy air. Large drops of round, and there was an ivory cross with a Christ crucified tarn fell at intervals, and the whole atmospere Seemed on it. She moved her head so as to get a view of it and was loaded and oppressed with a palpable darkness. evidently praying to it, for her lips moved, and I think she A solitary individual was crossing the Park from the tried tomes, herself. Excuse my rudeness in whispering, Westminster side. He walked with a slow, but firm step, but I did not like to say this before a stranger." and his whole appearance indicated etrength and resolution. The King's physician then took out his watch, looked at Ile was about forty-lire years of age, and bore in his mien it, shook his head, as if he had said too much, bowed, something that denoted high birth, although he was now and, saying that he would be back in an hour, left them clad in it rusty suit of black, and carried a bundle under v ain fete -O- tote. his arm. • " • • • • • "There will be a fearful storm to-nicht," muttered the It was soon settled; and the priest, unrolling his bundle, man, in the French language. " The darkness is fright- clothed himself in his violet-coloured robe. The maid, who hi; but it is welcome, for it hides my poverty. Curse was in attendance on her dying mistress, was sent for her on those howling revolutionary dogs who hunted me out riedly, and the abbe conversed with her apart for a few of Purim—but I forget," added he, bitterly, " I am a minutes. The maid, being a catholic, was easily convinced priest, and we are taught to despise riches, and to mor- that what was to be dune was for the good of her mistress's any the Mesh; but have we not our feelings and our passions soul, particularly as it never occurred to her that there like other men? only we must bide them from the world as could be any sinister object in the performance of a holy if we were better than others. What can this Englishman sacrament. The priest, therefore, having requested that want with the persecuted French priest ? Has he some one he might be informed when his assistant arrived, ascended to confess ? Is he one of us ? Well, well, I care not, for with her to the chamber of the dying lady. he offers sae money—besides, is it not for the greater glory • • • • • of God ? and dues not the end sanctify the means ? but can " I will exhort your mistress to confess, before she re. I attain that end without money ? shall I scruple then to °elves the last sacnneent," said the priest to the agitated obtain it ' —this is the reasoning, and it suits me. Will maid, as they entered the chamber. • Leave us alone, but that foul Chaumelin meet me as I appointed, with the remain within call." cross, and the vase, and the brush—these tools which we A single wax candle, burning dimly, stood on a small use, and which such fools as he put trust in. And 1— marble table shedding a faint light on the furniture of the what do I believe in ?—nothing." room; but the priest's eves did not wander. The privet, for such he was, awful as his thoughts lie approached the bed and drew back the heavy curtains were, crossed the l'ark, and stopped before a large house gently, with a tremulous hand, and gazed for a few minutes In the Mall. Lights were moving to and fro, gleaming at the pallid countenance of the dying woman. from the windows. The street-door was open, and there Hoe eyes were wide open and upturned towards heaven, seemed some unusual bustle. One carriage with post- but there had spread already over them a glassy film, and horses was just starting from the door, and another had they moved not. that moment driven up. Her lips were closed, and round them flickered a faint, "Is this life or death ? diem one more wretch come sweet smile, that spoke— into the world to swell the vast tide that is ever hurrying of peace, and rent, sad Moose= wens. on to annihilation, or is only one more added to the heap She did not gasp or moan, but lay there like an alabaster of corruption and rottenneas that forms the earth ? Which- figure, still and motionless, and as spotless and pure. No- OW it is, I will profit by it." Thus muttered the priest, thing indicated that the breath of life was still in that fair, as a dapper little man jumped nimbly out of the carriage, emaciated frame, but a scarcely perceptible movement of and entered the house. " Does te Conway live the nostril so slight, that the priest at first thought that he here ?" the priest inquired of a man-servant, who was had come too late, and that she was already dead. standing at the dour. "Yes, But, as he looked at that pale, seraphic countenance, he dues," answered the footman, in that super. acmes which t he re su m fast spreading his veil of apathy, callous tune, which that description of animal knows so well over his own there came a fierce and sudden change, he n how to assume, letting his gooseberry eyes wander over the he stood there like one struck by an electric shock. Then priest's .hubby draws, " what may you please to want ?" he stooped down and gazed at her, as if he would read " I want your master, fellow," replied the Frenchman, every feature, and raised with shaking hand a tress of the with a %Lilco of peculiar command, and an air that spoke long hair which lay loosely and carelessly on the pillow, as authority. if scarcely belonging to the form that had once been so, " I duel think he will see you," said the servant, dof 't rou lowering his tone •' " mistress has had a lit, and is very ill ; p The hair had beam formerly of a bright golden colour, but but I'll sec: what name shall I say?" now appeared dull, and streaked with grey. " Say that the man he sought is come." Still, the priest seemed to recognise it, and for a moment " Walk into the ball, and 11l go and tell him," said the his features relaxed, his eye dilated, and the fierce stern lacquey, as lie lounged lazily away. look gave way to one of unutterable love. His lips parted, " 1 had nearly forgotten myself," muttered the priest. and he murmured one word : " Eugenie !" "Name—have I a name ? Curse on this poverty, see how the veriest cur of a laequey despises me • but I must have The priest now recognises the form of one whom a sane ; let it be, then, what the fool C haumelin calls me in another character and a distant country he had —the Abbe." years before met, and to possess whom he had in . . _ . . vain slain two fellow-creatures. And had she a son, and that son not his? Then on that eon should tho hatred born of disappointed passion alight; hence forward the baronet and he bad one end. So occupied was the priest with this dark and ominous thought, that he scarcely heard a knock at the door. The dying woman's maid entered, and told him that the physician had returned. . Say unto him, my daughter, that the minister of the Holy Church is with her, about to administer the last sacra ment, that she may not appear before her God unannealed. She k cielseelag her sins, and will soon bo ready to depart ie The hesitated, but the priest quickly shut the door, and turned again into the room. He now examines the little piece of cabinet furni ture surmounted by . a crucifix, to which the short sighted court physician had supposed the dying woman was paying a superstitious adoration. Its inscription, a scene on its painted panels, convince him that this is a gift to tho lady from Cardinal Pictra, and commemorates the deliverance of the receiver, a Huguenot, from a convent, or a hated marriage, by the donor. "It was you, then, my Lord Cardinal,' muttered thepriest, la a deep, smothered, husky voice—" it was you, thee, who steed betwixt me and my love—my love and my vengeance ! 1 You—the Cardinal !—ono of the shining lights of our holy church, who sheltered and protected the fugitive heretic! Anathema!—Maranatha! Ile thou accursed! But thou set dead, and my curses are unavailing!" added he, with ) memealuded bitterness. Oh, te was a terrible sight ! The priest—the holy men— the wasesegeo of peace—gnashing lii, teeth, and cursing the died hem the foul depths of his heart, before the =which his knee ought to have bowed in humble I and this, too, in the chamber of the dying! It was terrible to hear, instead of the heart-felt prayer, 1 that fearful anathema from the lips of him who should hare ' brought tidings of consolation to the departing soul ! Now, for the first time, the priest perceived a small golden key, hanging by a thread of twisted hair from an arm of the cross. Wm it curiosity alone, or did he expect to find in the drawer some precious relic, that he opened it ? The slight grating of the lock in the silence of the ehasaber startled him, mid he paused and turned his head round, as if the thought of sacrilege had paned before I him. Then he went and bolted the door, returned with stealthy pace, drew back the curtains of the bed again, and intently, listened to hear if the dying lady still breathed. As be stooped over her, her lips parted, and she mur mured in a whisper, sweet and plaintive as the sighing of the wind amidst the aspen leaves : "My son! my son!" The voice, low as it was, seemed to him to echo through the room. The words rang in his ears painfully ; they went back—far, far back—from the present time, into the dreamy past; they recalled to his memory something that made his eyes flash fire, his limbs tremble, and his breath conic shorter and quicker. lie wished to hear more, in I spite of his lineation, but the invalid's eyes remained fixed, 1 and her lips closed again. tie turned away, and went back to the crucifix, and took from the drawer a small fiat purse, such as the Moors make, of crimson velvet, embroidered with gold. There was a folded paper en closed in it. Was it some charm against the evil eye, or something more holy, thus carefully preserved? The priest opened the paper, and reed he emOsals. The effect on him was strange : at first he appeared pow Jody rodysed ; then a mocking smile owed over his as he said, " Chaumelin weld call this • 1 4 .1111 ". 1= 11 :1 Providence, and thank God Ihe it; bat I am Mt oodt•hypocritc—l call it chance, sad *irk unlit ; lot ellgover it be, chance or Provides's% aye tiest is ollidsi. The book is open before me, sad I as nod ft." A. he said this, the priest returned the pow to the bower, shut and locked it, and hung the small key soda on the arm of the cram; but plead the paper care hilllyd& about his own person, and went halt win to the ho Ilan is those few brief moments a visible change bad Mid in the countenance of the invalid. Death was Illel ea slowly, but surely, foreshadowing with unmis his fearful advent. The priest perceived that bror ar:ras near; he went hastily to the toilette -, took up a - of scissors, and, re ,. ' - to the bed, The s m art soon returned, and ushered the priest into the prt wove of Sir Walter Conway. The baronet was sitting by a blazing fire, with a table before him, on Ala were several decanter of wine and a plate of olives— for he was a true don vivant, and repudiated the delicacies of a dessert as injurious to his port or burgundy. The Abbi was evidently not an unexpected guest, kit • plate and glasses were placed opposite to the Yo aall cosy arm-chair wheeled up near the fire, widdo we& of them. " Peace be unto this house," said the priest, craning himself as he entered the room. "The Abbe Latouche, I presume? Will you excuse my not rising ?" said the baronet. " Take a seat, Sir, I beg, and help yourself, if your order does not forbid it. The wine is old, and the olives new." The priest smiled scornfully, as he seated himself in the arm chair, and pouring out a glare of wine, he said: " It is my poverty, and not se ceder that forbids it, Sir Walter ; burgundy and I have set but rarelaiely " There was something in these few wo rds, be dm manner in which they were which AB haannet that this was the man he Z i r i P hu r peer—one who would ratifies mant eheedl pe MOMS would allow ham. M.d at lb poverty, and showed that he wee partial all VA Mir of this life, cod this in one inietimatenos. Just the man for him. Vet be determined In passest eautiow.:y at first. But, flushed with wine end lIIW to the practice of dissimulation. tie baronet woe ao ash& fur the abbe, if the latter haillms its * l ey a put. As they sat opposite to ono assease hefts eircerfel fire. he themselves at I liberally te fie sparits hug burgundy, the following enaversstion pond between' them ; the baronet being the first to speak. " You must be aware, Monsieur l'Abbe', that I did not send fur you on my own account. I think I mentioned in my note to you that there is a lady connected with nais by marriage who follows the doctrines of the Roma catholic church ?" " You did, Sir Walter; and I was much surprised at it." " Why so?" " Simply because I thought it strange that there should be a catholic in a family so essentially protestant. May I ask the lady's name ?" " There is no need now of making a mystery of it," thought the baronet, " I may as well tell him. It is mg late brother's widow ; she is of your nation, and there was something romantic in her history, I believe; but uI I. not know the facts, I cannot tell it." " If you did, Sir Walter, I should not wish to hear St reminiscences of the put are bitter things sometimes. DO are you sure that she is of our holy religion ? llu she ear any priest ? lies she had a confessor ? Such are yet to be retina, fur though hunted and persecuted, we still exist ?" " No, I think not," answered the baronet, venturing a terrible lie; "my sister-in-law is very timid, and has been of late years a dreadful invalid; but a few days ago she express:il a wish to see a minister of your creed : perhaps she is anxious to confess." " Nay, that can hardly be under the circumstances , for I heard tint the lady was already in extremis. If so, I haw come ton late; and, indeed, I ought to have convincing' proof that she is not a heretic before I administer the rites of the holy church." " She has not professed it openly, it is true, for the Wee of her son, who is at Oxford; but there can be no doubt of the fact. She has a small oratory, and prays daily, Mean before a crucifix. No protestant does that." " Even granting that, it is now too late for her to receive the extreme unction, that last holy rite of our church, pro vided what your servants said is true; they told me their mistress was actually in the death agony." " The babbling fools," thought the baronet. "If this man is sincere, there is no hope for me. I must be more open with him." Ile filled a bumper of burgundy, and drank it off. " I will confer to you, Monsieur l'Abbe, that I wish most particularly that this lady should receive the last rites of your church before she dies." "It is impossible, Rir Walter, unless she recovers sue deafly to be sensible of their performance." " I will give you five hundred reasons to make it pporanable. and five hundred more if it can be done before wkaseea Bar own maid is a catholic." There was a pause, and they looked at one another steadily y . " M violet robe is there • and the conseented ail ill round my neck ; and m assis t ant Chaumelin will be bon " said ' abb e. P.llll4is a .111 e, slowly and distinctly. • !be gement. Asa, my dear abbt," exclaimed the ba maskjyytally. M. "Illy seal earboly church is so great," said the priest, meningly, " that if the lady is Dot dead already I will ad minister the last sacrament. But you men give me your One= before I do it." °lva write you them in gold, Monsieur TAW, or what It wore as much. Will yon accept this trigs ?" "Fee the IMIP of the poor, and the greater glory of God," Mid the priest, rising and taking a slip of paper which the baronet handed to him across the table. It was a note for live hundred pounds. " Will that remove your scruples? If so, we will speak more openly, if you please." Your arguments are liberal, and your reams convinc ing. I am now at your service." " Are e you really what you pretend to be--a priest of the catholi religion r " That question cams rather late, Oir Walter OW to my sorrow I am s pleat, oat • poor privet s too, but I was not table, ...ons tip a pair returning 7 _ cut off a tress of that beautiful goldeii hair, and p laced it in his bosom. Was there love or hate in this simple set ? When he had done this, he rang the bell sharply, and de sired the maid who answered it to let the physician know that a sudden change . had taken place, and that her mis tier was evidently dying; and he requested her to send up his assistant directly, Vint had arrived, lest it should be too late to administer the extreme unction. This done, the priest, having deposited the t hial of con secrated oil on the little marble table, placed himself in au attitude of humble prayer before the enacillx. The physi cian entered, followed by the maid and a rickly-looking, middle-aged man, dressed in a black soutane, and carrying • cross, a small vase of holy water, and • sprinkling-brush. He wore a boon, and Ids look was downcast and de hewed they maw Into die room, the priest rose and lowly to the physician, who returned it slightly ; not recognising, in his sarplies and violet robes, the shabbily droned man whom be bed sem sitting by the baronet's In. " I tear the lady is in the death agony.," said the priest, addressing the physician in French, as he approached the bed and looked at her now agonized countenance. Her jaw had fAlen her eyes were fir.d on vacancy, and her small white ha ndsi were clutching nervously at the bed clothes. TM plipirian turned away sorrowfully, and said, " You are a asibter of the catholic religion, I presume, sir, by you dress: if BO perform your Mikes quickly, for in a few saimsts ale will have ceased to breathe." Clummialin lighted a consecrated taper at the wax-light. The AMM, with the holy-water brush, sprinkled the pillow and Am al the invalid, repeating the prayer commencing " Prelehore =Las Christiana;" then he took the silver meth; awl held it to her lips to kiss. He hawed his heed down over her: in doing this, with a convulsive erect, the dying lady started up in her bed, and, with a low bat tigamising shriek, that pierced the ears of all, she cried, "My son . my son !" Then her head sank slowly back upon the pillow, and her sad soul separated from her wasted body. In that last moment upon earth, she had reeognhca the countenance of the priest, which, in truth, bore a strange resemblance to the face of the man in the left-hand panel, who was carrying off the child. liequieseat in pare," said the Abbe, agitated violently, in spite of himself: be, however, whispered something to Chaumelin, and hurried hastily from the room. The maid closed the ghastly eyes of the corpse, shedding many tears, and lamenting bitterly the loss of her des r mistrms. The physician . , accustomed to scenes of death and misery. remained a minute or two as if watching whether life was really extinct; then, dashing away a tear, lie took a pinch of muff, and left the room. The aiY tint , Chaumelin, placed a small cross on her breast, between her hands the vase of holy water, and the sprinkling-brush at her feat, and knelt down by the bedside. This terrible imposture orer, the baronet and the priest, now become his master, confer in this wise— "Do you not think there is sufficient evidence to prove that Mrs. Conway was a catholic r inquired the priest, hesitatingly. "No,' replied the baronet, impatiently: "the evidence is only presumptive. Both judge and jury, being protest ant', would look upon it with suspicion ; nothing having been apparently done by her own act or free-will." " That is unfortunate. What sort of young man is her ion ?" --- IHe u diver, proud, and high-spirited ; but he has not what is commonly called a well-regulated mind, for he has been left too much to himself." " Does he, then, not love his mother much ?" "He has been away at school and college a great deal, and has spent most of his vacations with us, in Devon shire; and although his mother was generally there, she was always an invalid, and kept to her room ; so that he has not seen so much of her as sous usually do; still he always loved her, and is proud of her high birth and noble family." The thought of Arthur's attachment to his own daughter occurred to him at that moment, but that he reserved to himself for the present. "Cause it to be whispered abroad," said the priest, in a hoarse, unnatural voice, for the struggle had commenced, "that Mr. and Mrs. Conway were never married; that is, not legally married ; fur rumour, with her pointed tongue, will soon bring it to the first point." " What good will that do, if we cannot prove it ?" " Leave that to me, Sir Walter; I will undertake to prove it, if necessary. He will hear this, he will inquire into it; he shall find that there is strong evidence to that effect, which, if produced, might blast his mother's fair fame. Then, if I can read human nature, and this young man is such as you describe him to be, he will not go to law at all. The memory of his mother must be sacred, and he will not like to run the chance of its being defamed, opealy defamed in a court of law, which it must necessarily be if a trial takes place ; but it must come upon him by degrees. If you are rash, and threaten him with proceedings at once, he will kick against it like a young colt, harnessed and put into the ahafts without any previous preparation." - - The artifice succeeds so far that, as we afterwards learn, young Conway, out of regard to his mother's name, resigns all clam to the inheritance and accepts service in a deadly clime. This removal gives our author a fine opportunity of describing the principal features of tropical scenery. This part of his task is performed with great art. In Captain Militian's description, the features of the tropical west seem to live and play before us. Over these islands, rent and disfigured by earth quakes and volcanic shocks, Nature has hastened to cast a thick veil of vegetation, as if eager to hide the scars which there mar the earth. Chasms and gul lies suddenly yawn in the midst of plateaus, from which once fiery mountains rear their hollow cones. But ravine, plain, and peak wear alike a perpetual mantle of the richest green. Where the hand of man has not taught the sugar-cane or coffee-plant to rise, nature wantons in the luxuriance of ten thou sand fantastic forms. The guinea grass waves over savannahs, the wild vine adorns the mountain side or the craggy rock, and ten thousand shrubs and creepers throw out their tendrils across the primitive sward, to form a matted habitation for insects and reptiles innumerable. Above this lower world, the feathery bamboo, the graceful tapering palm, wave in the breeze, the tamarind and the orange trees cast their shade and the limes give out a delicious fragrance. Birds of brightest plumage are on the wing, and moths of golden hue dart like meteors through the air. Amid this scenery is beheld through a grove of mangrove trees the planter's low green-shingled house, with its verandahs, its trellis covered with climbing plants, and its orange-coloured hedge of Barbadoes pride. Such is the world amid which Captain Mil man has chosen his hero should love, work, and suffer, defeating the jesuit whose arms are stretched across the nuun for his ruin, and finding gratitude, faith fulness, and resource in a cannibal Carib. His mysterious island enemy, one Marinier, proves to be the Chaumelin who had played second to L'Abbe Latouche, the ci-devant Marquis de Charolles, iu the death-chamber of Arthur's mother. It is unneces. nary to say that poetical justice is in the end done to all. Arthur Conway is a work of rare merit. The style is always facile and smooth, the construction skilful and combined with considerable descriptive power. The story never flags, every line serving to heighten its interest. Unhappily for the public the author is beyond the reach of mortal praise, having some months since met with an accident which brought his life to a premature close. rhe Registration of Deeds in England; its Past Proyress i and Present Position. With an Analysis of Lord Campbell's Bill for the Registration of Assureni‘es, n ow before Parliament. By WILLIAM H.tzurr, Esq., Bar rister-at-Law. Stevens and Norton. The object of this pamphlet is stated by the author to be, "briefly to explain the general prin ciple of registration, and to trace the steps by which it has obtained almost unanimous recognition, as a measure of public utility, especially to the landed interest." Remarkable testimony was borne a few nights since of the competency of Mr. Hazlitt for the task he has performed . Lord Brougham spoke on the subject in the House of Peers, and Lord Campbell echoed the commendation. After this it behoves every possessor of real property to examine Mr. Hazlitt's pamphlet, and to scrutinise the im portant subject it refers to. All are deeply inter ested in the question of registration, and the subject appears now to be in such a position, that if the owners of the soil bestirred themselves in earnest to support the legal members of the House of Peers, there is a probability of our obtaining a satisfactory change in faulty existing arrangements. Au extract or two from Mr. Hazlitt's treatise may illustrate this: THE EXPRESS, SATITA A V EIT a Iij , II T I I4 ;; , ;TNT: 21. D . VIZ SCRIM OP REGISTRAISON, As one not exceededin importance by any question connected with the law of real property, has, for many psis pest, attracted the earnest attention not merely of law reformers as such, but of men whoa, buyers or sellers, as mortgagees or inortfiegors of land, have practically ex vrieneed the evils arising from the want of registration. Those evil may be summed up under the following heads: 1. The insecurity of title. 2. The difficulty, with variouily interested ander deeds, of obtaining either the posetesion of them or the means of enforcing their prods's tion. 1. The difficulty, expense, and delay which occurs in selling or mortgaging landed estates, or portion of them. 4. The temptation to forge and substitute deeds. 6. The temptation to conceal rights. 6. The encouragement of liti gation. 7. The depreciation, from all these causes, of landed Pro Porty. INSECURITY OF TITLE. I n all civilised countries, the title to land depends in • great measure on written documents, and the purchaser Looks, and is empowered by law to look for proof of the seller's right, beyond the fact of his ;possession. It is ob violas that a documentary title cannot be complete and satis factory, unless the party to whom it is produced can be as sured that no document which may defeat or alter the effect of those which are shown him is kept out of eight. These documentary titles should be simple, distinct, unequivocal, in their terms, and readily accessible to all persons concerned. In other words, there must be a general register, such es that now proposed. Chattels pass from hand to hand upon parole transfer; the apparent owner is held the real owner, and there is no difficulty in the latter; but as to land, mere possession is no proof of the extent of the interest under which it was acquired. The party in eseisa may be tenant at will, cur tenant for yea" es kw se tweet in tail, or in fee elm* • and if Is is tenant in shy* he may have takes Ile idate iarandsered with paymenle relations, or may WNW have isoseismal the estate le the last farthing, and pi fawain ia pressisa. As to title deeds. their possession is sew ewiaslwr Ed in sway eases can not be had. • chose ei the pesoledes e( the title deeds does not, and erne% alwege knew the creation of an tuts rest In land. In ease of a settlement by a tenant in fee, who retains an estate for life, the deeds aro not parted with: in this case the presumption from the possession of title deeds altogether fails. So, where deeds relate to lend, divided as to owner ship, it is obvious that they can attend the posses sion of only one part of the land. So, secondary and re versionary estates or charges are not accompanied with the possession of the deeds. Moreover, duplicates are often executed of important deeds, such as settlements, and these duplicates might aff or d t o more th an one part; at a time the presumption of ownership. A seller or mort gagor, originally the absolute owner of a fee simple, may hare executed some settlement by which his interest has been reduced to a tenancy for life; vet he retains possession of the estate and the deeds, and may thus, by merely suppressing the settlement, impose on a purchaser or lender. Again, the seller or mortgagor may be heir-at-law of the last proprietor, and may claim as such heir, and may sup press a will giving him a limited interest ; or he may be heir a. law or general devisee of some deceased nroprictor, who may have made a settlement giving him a limited interest, and he may claim as such heir or devisee, and may suppress the settlement. A proprietor in possession may have mortgaged the estate, and, having withheld or got bark the deeds on some pretext from the mortgagee, and thus being in posseesion of the deeds, or else plausibly &catenating fur their non-production, and concealing the mortgage, he may offer the property as an unencumbered security. Again, a settlement may have been executed, limiting a life interest to the husband, with power to appoint the estate to the issue of the marriage, as he may think proper, and giving it, in default of such appointment, to the eldest son in fee or in tail. The eldest son, after the death of his father, may take possession of the property, claiming under the li mitation in apparent default of appointment ; he may sell it, or mortgage it, yet as appointment may have been made under which the seller or mortgagor may have no estate, or an estate fur life only, or an estate charged with portions for younger children. Or appointmentamay be revoked, yet the revocation be suppressed, and the revoked appoint ments be produced as giving a title. Or a person who thinks himself a first encumbrancer finds out that a prior mortgage exist', and consequently that the security on which he has advanced his money is of little value. Or there may be a subsequent mortgage to his own, which, by an ingenious operation of the law, may be made to oust him altogether. In these and many similar eases, fraud, as matters stand now, may be committed with facility, and have every chance of eoncealmeent, at all events, unti after the death of the perpetrator. The same evils that may, under the system, arise from fraud, may equally arise from accident, inadvertence, or igno rance; yet a proposing purchaser is compellable to complete the contract, unless he can effectually object to the title itself. There is no doubt that the mischiefs natu• rally flowing from such a state of things, exist to an extent which would alarm the holders and purchasers of land, if they were aware of the risks to which they are exposed and that in n great number of instances, es t a t es , an d espe cially se unities for money, are def.•atcd, in consequence of latent defects of title, arising from the non-production of documents. The evil of fraud actually committed is, however, far less than that of expense incurred, and necessarily incurred, in every case, fur the purpose of obtaining something like a reasonable assurance against the consequences of possible fraud or mistake. The enormous expenses which are daily incurred in sales and mortgages for the purpose of enabling the purchaser or mortgagee to make, and a vendor or mort gagor to satisfy, these requisitions which would never be necessary under a general registry of title, have been often dwelt upon, and need now only be alluded to. In the words of the Real Property Commissioners—" A very ina dequate estimate will be formed of the evils of the present system from merely considering the eases in which a loam ac tually does arise to purchasers or mortgagees from titles proving defective inconsequence of the suppression of deeds. It is a consideration of the greatest importance, and one which presents the existing evil in the strongest light, that in all transactions respecting sales and mortgages of real property suppression of title is treated as a risk to be apprehended, and against which it is tho duty of the professional agent to guard by every means in his power. In the process of investigation which is insti tuted as to the title, not only every document, the existence of which in any manner appears, and which by any possibility may affect the title, is called for, but various collateral sources of information, existing generally, or in particular cases, are resorted to. Inquiries am made from the occupiers of the lands, and from persons who have long dwelt in the neighbourhood, county and local histories are examined, searches are instituted for land-tax assessments, awards under inelosure bill+, grants from the crown, grants of annuities, records of fines and recoveries, enrolments of deeds, judgments entered up in the several courts of record, securities given to the crown, probates of wills, and admi nistrations, and various other species of documents. In 'veil- case except where the property is too small to make risk important as compared with present expense, investi gations of this nature are prosecuted to a great extent, and they occasion a considerable partion of the delay and expense which are felt to be the great evils now attending the transfer of real property.' "I. CUSTODY OP DEEDS. The evil arising from the present state of the law as to the custody of deeds is one of very great importance. In numerous cases, persons interested under deeds have nei therthe possession nor means of enforcing the production of them. When an estate is divided and becomes the property of different persons, or when different persons ob tain partial interests in an estate, the same deeds constitute the title, or part of the title, of many persons. In most cases, where the division of sn estate arises from contract, th^ party who retains the custody of the deeds gives to each of the other parties attested copies of them, and a covenant to produce the originals, and furnish other copies when required. There arc many cases, however, in which such a covenant cannot be obtained, and, when ob tained, it is only in very few cases that it is permanently effectuil. Tie deeds often pass with the lands, in respect of which they are retained, into the hands of a person not bound by the covenant ; and, on the other hand, the subse quent perch:is--r of the other lands is seldom able to enforce the covenant. The cxpenu of furnishing the attested copies is enormous. Lord Campbell mentioned a case which had been brought under his cognisance, of a person who, having sold a small property to an attorney, and covenanted to furnish attested copies of the deeds, actually found that the expense would amount to MOTt than the purchase money, and was only too glad to accept the proposal of the liberal purchaser to waive the purchase-money and give up the property for nothing, upon the-purchaser waiving his right to the attested copies. Again, even supposing the party to bo in possession of a perfect covenant, it may fail of effect because the party bound by the covenant may not be known, or may be out of reach, or may be incapable of being sued ; and there is always the risk of the loss of deeds, and of their accidental or wilful destruction. The loss of deeds, or the mere apprehension of it, or the want of an effectual covenant for their production, prevents a large proportion of the titles in this country from being strictly marketable; and a great part of the delay, ex pense, and litigation which attend the transfer of real property, and which are grievances strongly felt by all pro- prietors and purchasers of land, arises from the same source. These evils are either unforeseen by a person when he enters into a contract for sale, and he is then placed at the merry of the purchaser; or, if foreseen, special conditions are not unusually inserted to preclude the purchaser from objecting to the title on account of the loss or non-production of deeds, or the want of a valid covenant for production, or from requiring attested copies, except at his own expense. All such stipulations are calculated to produce grave inconveniences ; they may very seriously af fect the price to be obtained for the estate ; they may be the means of entrapping ignorant or unwary purchasers, and they may, if not most accurately pre pared, lead to infinite expense and harassing litigation. The want of a particular deed, it may be observed, some times occasions the actual loss of the property to which it relates, and though this happens more frequently in the case of incorporeal hereditaments, it is also liable to happen with respect to lands, and even lands in possession. A person may have been tenant for life, in default of the exercise of a power of appointment, and may have acquired the fee under an appointment. If the appointment be not forthcoming, and secondary evidence of its contents cannot bo produced, his heirs or devisees would lose the estate. Nor does the infinite complication of title law, with its infinite delay, and its infinite expense, render titles secure. "No title, ' said the late Mr. Tyrrell, a most competent judge of the subject, " can be considered at present to be perfectly safe. After the evidence which can be obtained has been investigated with the greatest care and every possible means of finding objections to it has been resorted to, there will still remain some possible cause of insecurity, which no vigilance or ingenuity MI discover." All these evils a general registry may be so constituted as to remove. IXPEDISIZSTE TO TEE TRANSFER OF LANDS. From the greater or less insecurity of all titles to land, and the certainty that every purchaser, by signing his con tract, undertakes either to waive his right of having any security at all, or to incur a great but indeterminate ex. pence in seeking such an approximation to security es the present system allows, it results, that the market values of estates are deteriorated in an inverse ratio to their magni tude, and small estates are unsaleable from the mere dispro portion between their value and the expenses of the tran saction. It is not fair, therefore, to represent the plan of a register as necessarily involving an additien to the present expenses attending the transfer of estates. On the contrary, it is probable that the saving effected in the expense of making out and invcsti3ating titles will many times exceed the total coat of the registry establishmest. We believe, say the Real Property Commissioners, it may be confidently asserted that of the real property of England, a very considerable proportion is in one of these two predi mments, either the want of security against the existence I o f latent deeds renders actually unsafe a title which is yet marketable, or the want of means of procuring the formal requisites of title renders unmarketable a title which is sub stantially safe. by a general registry of deeds, every trans fer of land, and everencumbrance upon it, would be placed within the means of knowledge of ererfperson loving occa sion to deal with it; all rights might be suffered to prevail (as natural justice requires) acco rd ing to their priority; the use of outstanding legal estates, and the expense of keeping demi on foot and transferring thm, would sass ; the in on of titles would be materially abridged and aim and freed in all transactions respecting real pro perty would be 'flannelly pprevented. " It has been long ego " writes Professor Hancock, "and is admitted by every economist of repute • first isport of Lw Amendment feisty, pp. 1. 16 n to .,.. the freedom o f p urc h ase an d creating insecurity f or th e l o t f kin sa ' l t e ha , t an c d te e rY ve i ry mPe cire di u m ms en ta ! employment of capital, to the extent of their operation, im pedo the prosperity and impt.ovemcnt of the manufacture and trade to which th e y a p p l y . The same causes may b e expected to produce th e same e fli .e t: in agriculture ' which we know they p r od uce in every other trade and manu facture. the cost of transfer, I will not i ce some i nst. "In illustration of the legal impedints'ota from tines that have been furnished to me by an exper i ence d en li, , itor:-Ist. A case of sale of land for 1,2001.; the costs to ve ndor and purchaser together amounted t o 200 L, or one-sixtil of flu; purchase-money. 2nd. A sale for 5001., where the costa to one party alone were 1211., or one-fourth of the pur chase-money. 3rd. A sale for 2501., where the costs to one party alone were 401., or about one-sixth of the purchase money. " But the amount of money actually paid by the vendor and purchaser represents only a part of the cost of tranfer That cost of transfer may be divided into four distinct elements : the expense, delay, and risk attending the inves tigation of title ; the expense of searches for encumbrances ; the stamps on searches and conveyances; and the length of conveyances. The first of these elements, which is the only one I shall have time to notice at present, arises entirely from the rule of law, that the vendor of land must produce sixty years title to every acre that he sells. How (could other trades be carried on if a similar rule were enforced ? What would be thought of a law that compelled you to examine the title to the leather, every time you bought a Pair of shoes ? How could the cotton trade be carried on, tf the spinner could not buy a bale in Liverpool, without truing the title from the time the plant was grown in Louisiana, and sending to New Orleans to search for en cumbrances ?" Mr. James Stewart, in one of his able lectures on the subject, observes most pertinently Since we have free trade in the produce of the land, let us also have free trade in the land itself. You all know that the buying and selling of land is ut present anything but tree ; you all know the expense and delay w hi c h now ern buns. all dealings in land ; everything that gives greater facility to the transfer of land wilt enhance its value. If you can buy land more easily, or sell land more easily, or borrow money more easily on your land, there is a direct benefit to you. At present the laws relating to land, instead of being as they ought to be, few and simple, are the most Idifficult branch of our jurisprudence. Wh at spell, then, binds the land of this country ? We ernes over to Belgium, to Prussia, to France, and we find that the transfer of land in those countries is nearly as easy and simple as that of stock in the funds, and the expense and delay to the parties are very inconsiderable. As the result of this facility of transfer, we find that land is more valuable in France, in Belgium, and in Prussia, than in England; it fetches more money in the market, and money eon be borrowed on it at a much easier rate there than here." " When there is fetae sale of land, and security for the ex penditure of capital," adds Professor Hancock, " the greatest advantages accrue to the community in general. For when the sale of land is free, it has a constant tendency to get into the hands of those who can improve it most, since such parties can affonl to give the highest price for it. Thus the seller gets a high price, the buyer gets an opportunity of exercising his sk;11, and the community gets the cheapness and abundance consequent on the improvement." D.INGER OF FORUERY, SUBSTITUTION OF BENDS, CON- CEALMENT Of , RIGHTS, AND LITIGATION. 'With reference to the forgery and substitution of deeds, it is obvious that these documents cannot with absolute safety be left in the possession of those who may be gainers by de stroying or altering them, and that such possession affords dangerous facility of fabricating other instruments, or of giving undue effect to instruments by false dates ; as a man who had executed a settlement might make a conveyance or mortgage, and date it before the settlement. Frauds of these descriptions, when of a nature not to dis turb present possession, may often be kept secret, or may be concealed from the injured party during the life of the cri minal party, or until the real or supposed witnesses, and all persons who could prove the fraud, are dead. It is evident that a register would afford security against the alteration or ante-dating of instruments ; and it would, for various reasons, afford considerable security against fabrications. Persons having interests not accompanied with possession of the documents of their title, have often no means of ascer taining their rights, or none but a suit in equity at their own expense ; this creates a dangerous temptation to the holders of land, and of the title deeds, to keep concealed, and to subvert rights thus unprotected. On account of the ignorance of their rights in which parties ont of possession are kept under the present law— the statutes of limitation of actions respecting real pro perty—beneficial as their general tendency is, operate sometimes unfairly to individuals. A register accessible to claimants would remove these evils, and make a short period of limitation more consonant with justice. Besides the causes of litigation to which reference has been made, there arc other harassing actions and suits, such as those relating to the custody of deeds, which would be prevented or greatly diminished by information and evidence afforded by a register. DEPRECIATION OF t.\ NORD PROPERTY. The depreciation of real propertyOcc:a:l;nel b y the gene ral feeling of the present insecurity of title, and of the ap prehension of the delay and expense attending transactions relating to real property, is matter of no doubt whatever ; I l and the main object of registration is well described by Mr. I Henry Drummond, in the able speech introducing his bill of 1849, :—" To enhance the value of land e d property, I and to enable landed proprietors more easily to effect sales , of small portions of the same, in order to liberate them out i of their difficulties, and to give them facilities for investing more capital in the cultivation of their lands." At present,i what is the language of the law, or rather of the profession, to the landowner ? Let the writer of a powerful article in the Law &riot) state it Before you can dispose of your land, either by sale or mortgage, you must show a sixty years'title to it, as it is called, that is to say, you must show the whole of the transactions and dealings respecting it, for at least that period of time ; and you must show that all the encumbrances which have affected it during this period, I have been paid of. You must verify all the facts connected with it, as birth, deaths, etc., by legal evidence ; and you must show that either you, or those over whom you have control, can convey to the purchaser or mortgagee every particle of what are called the legal and equitable estates. This must be done in the case of every and any sale, though having 1,000 acres, you wish to sell only one acre. It must he done in the case of a mortgage, whether you want to borrow the money for a short or for a long period ; whether you want to borrow 1001., or 1,0001., or 10,0001. The landowner who borrows money on his land imagines he ' gets his money for 41. or IL per cent. ; but add to the interest the expenses of the investigation, always paid by the mortgagor, and the best se-1 curity m England may find itself mulcted of 101. per' cent. upon a loan. But the mortgage money is called in, what happens then? The same investigation of title usually takes place by another person, and very nearly the same i expense is again incurred. It is easy to see how this state of the law mu,t affect the value of the land, and more es_pc- Melly the smaller proprietors. But this is not all. The greater the necessity of the man, the greater the number of his mortgages; the more his necessities thicken around him, the Larger and thus the more expensive becomes his abstract of title ; the less he can afford to pay, the more ho has to pay ; the more money ho wants, the less he gets." Yet there is nothing in the nature of landed property which renders it impracticable for ready transfer. Railroad pro perty, mining property, canal property, all manifestly inte rests in land, have been rendered, by acts of parliaments, the subject of simple registration and of simple transfer. Why not, then, landed property altogether ? Surely we have said and quoted enough to arouse the attention of our readers to the subject, and shall only further add, that Mr. Hazlitt deserves well of the propertied classes for this effort to advance a reform long needed. The Theology and Morally of the Great Exhibition. By • SPIRITUAL WITCRXAS of the CIIURCII of ENO- Paulter. _...._. _ __.._.. Whether the writer of this pamphlet be, as he gives himself out, a minister of the Church of Eng land, or not, he is a moody bigot, insensible to the large and generous sentiments of the Scriptures whose letter he wrests. Thus, abusing the sublime imagery of the prophet, he says of the Great Exhi bition,—" The enemy is come in like a flood ; " and as if to balance his impiety, he immediately perverts the language of an apostle,—" It is required of stewards that a man be found faithful "—to sanction his ignorant protests against the no blest efforts of our age. Nothing seems to please this gentleman. The Crystal Palace was opened with a prayer, upon which he ejacu lates, "We live in strange and perilous times !" Ho seems to have a notion that the act of prayer gives a sort of sacred character to the Exhibition—as if it expressed anything more than the spirit of the wor shipper. This " spiritual watchman" has read Paul's writing to small purpose, when Paul enjoined that every act should be performed in the name of the Divine Being. Then, again, Prince Albert offends hint. Among the good things said by the Prince at the Mansion-house was this : So man is approaching a more complete fulfilment of that great aad sacred mission which he has to perform in this world. His reason being created in the image of God, he has to discover the laws by which the Almighty governs his creation, and, by making these laws his standard of action, to conquer nature to his use, himself a divine instrnmcnt. Whereupon the clergyman finds that this doctrine leads to atheism, and that, "so far from having any mission to pry into the laws by which the Almighty governs his creation, he was expressly forbidden so to do. The only forbidden tree in the garden was the tree of science and intellect." Beyond this ' point, wrong-headed acts cannot go. There is not a Sunday scholar in any third-rate town who could not tell this clergyman that, &word ing to the book he misrepresents, man is expressly told to " subdue" the creation ; which certainly can never be done except by ascertaining its laws. Rose or Florence is the true sphere for our new teacher. What makes of oon the matter woreagb4 add e :4)lades q uotations, misapplied sse, from -- --- (old John Buny an , th e su b t l e di scr i m i nat i on an d masculine common sense of religion, to give a 'Ali tsible sanction to his morbid notions. These arc the wounds which Christianity receives in the house of her friends. 1851; or, the Adrentares of Mr. and Met. Sandboys and Family, who came up to Gondon to enjoy thentselres, and to see the Great Exhibition. Part V. by Haxur Mar. HEW. Illustrated by George Cruikshaak. Bogue. The fifth instalment of the Sandboys' history is devoted to an account of more disasters. Since they came to London, these devoted eountryfolk had been made to suffer so many indignities and losses— having penetrated the mysteries of a station-house, been taken hundreds of miles out of their way, been duped to the tune of some 10 pounds by a flower seller, and been ignominiously turned out of their lodgings—that it was not unreasonable to expect in the fifth part a glimmer of sunshine. But no. On all sides are they ingeniously hedged about with the most various disasters; and for the present month Mr. Sandboys is left in prison, being remanded by the magistrate on suspicion of robbery in the Exlu bition building. It is almost unnecessary to add that Mr. Sandboys is entirely innocent. The opening of the Exhibition —welcome intelligence to most people—only served in the history of Mr. Sandboys to precipitate himself and lady into the Serpentine, whence they were rescued by members of the Humane Society. Mr. Sandboys is not even allowed to journey to Kensing ton on an omnibus without an accident—for the roof gives way, and the Cumberland farmer is precipi tated upon the heads of the inside passengers. These improbabilities arc so crowded together, that they almost lose the force of humour and dwindle to bald pantomime. Mr. Mayhew has proved already how dexterously he can manage equivoque, and how sharply he can seize upon the salient points of human weakness and folly; and the fact that this power is recognised by the public should warn him against ,descending to absurdities, and absurdities, too, in which the reader is allowed to scan everything that influences the trick. The part, however, begins ex cellently well with a picturesque account of the opening of the Exhibition, part of which we extract : LONDON BEFORE THE OPENING. London, for sonic time previous to the openine of the Great Exhibition, had been a curious sight even to Lon doners. In all the main thoroughfares, especially those leading from the railways and the d oc k s , h eav y vans , piled high with unwieldy packing cases, or laden with some cumbrous machine, and drawn by a long team of horse, crawled along, creaking, on their way tow ar d s th e C r y s t a l Palace. The greater part of the principal streets were being repaired, preparatory to the increased traffic ; shops were being newly painted, and newspapers were announcing in huge placards that they proposed publishing supplements in several languages. Is almost every omnibus some two or three foreigners were to be seen among the passengers—either some light haired Germans, or high-checked Americans, or sallow Turks, with their " fez-ups "of scarlet cloth. In the pit of the theatres, Chinamen, with their peculiar slanting eyes and old-woman like lo o k an d d ress , might occasion ally 'be seen gaping with wonder at the scene ; while from the number of gentlemen in beards, felt hats, and full pan taloons, visible at the West End, Regent -street had much the Anglo-Frenchified character of Boulogne-sur-Mer. New amusements were daily springing into existence, or old ones being retired. The Chinese Collection had re turned to the metropolis with a family from Pekin, and a lady with feet two inches and a half long, as a proof of the superior stending she had in seciety ; Mr. Catlin had re opened his Indian exhibition; Mr. Wyld had bought up the interior of Leicesterequare, with the view of cramming into it—" yea, the great globe itself!" The geographical panoramas had rapidly increased, no less than three Jeru salem having been hatched, as it were, by steam—like eggs, by the patent incubator—within the last three weeks. " Australia " and " New Zealand," like floating islands, had biliftVtl their quarters from Miss Linwood's Gal lery to the Strand, while the cost of immigrating thither for half an hour was reduced from sixpence for each country to " threepeuce all th e wa y ; whilst those who felt indisposed for so long a journey could make the " Grand Tour of Europe " for one shilling, or take the " Overland Route to India " fur the same fence, I or be set down by the Waterloo omnibus at the entrance to the " Dardanelles," and see all over " Constantinople " for less than a trip to Gravesend. The road to the Crystal Palace had for a long time been an extraordinary scene. Extensive trains of waggons stretched far away, like an Eastern caravan, each waiting for its turn lobe unloaded, monopolised one side of the car riage way, Omnibuses, with their roofs crowded with people, went dashing by, while carts laden with building materials crept leisurely along. At almost every one of the public-houses some huge flag was flying from the upper window., and around the doors were groups of men and soldiers either about to enter or de : part. Along the edge of the footpath stood hawkers, shouting out the attraction of their wares—some had trays filled with bright silvery-looking medals of the Exhibition —others, pictures of it printed in gold on "gelatine cards " —while others had merely barrows of nuts, baskets of oranges, or trucks of the omnipresent penny ginger-beer. Groups of foreigners, their beards yellow with dust, walked along with their hands stuck in their 'Rickets, so as to make their full pantaloons even fuller than ordinary; and as the omnibuses stopped to "pick up " or " set down" their passengers, parties of Germans or Frenchmen were heard jabberiug . loudly within. Along Rotten-row, endless troops of equestnans galloped noisclesslyalong on the soft loose ground at the rear of the Crystal Palace—in front of it an interminable line of carriages drawled slowly pest, and while some of those within thrust their heads out at the windows, others leant back, so as to be able to sec the height or length of the giant building. Oa every side were mobe of spectators pressing close up to the rails, and standing on tip-toe, with their necks out stretched, in the hope of getting a peep of what was going on within. All along the building were ladders, one beside each of the columns, with painters perched high upon them, busy colouring the iron. work against the opening day. On top of the huge glass arch that farmed the roof of the tran sept, the tiny figures of workmen were to he seen, some walking along the crystal covering, and making one wonder how the fragile substance bore them. At the end of the building were steam-engines puffing out their white clouds of steam, and amid the debris of a thou sand packing-cases stood giant blocks of granite, mammoth lumps of coal, stupendous anchors, and such huge articles as were too bulky to be placed within the building itself. AU was bustle, life, confusion, and amazement. Those who were not working were wondering at those who were ; and many, as they looked at what still remained to be done, shook their heads in doubt as to the possibility of completing it against the appointed time. Nor was it difficult to read disappointment in the Wall.' tenances of the new comers on their first beholding the building. To soy the truth, the engravings and the ima gination had failed to convey any adequate legion of the structure. The very name of the Crystal Palace had led people to conjure up in their minds a phantasm that could not be realised—a transparent edifice, pellucid as if built of blocks of ice instead of stone—a prismatic kind of fairy mansion, glittering in the sun, and breaking up and scat tering the light all around in a thousand rainbow tints. NorrINGHAM Se!mot Or Mill:lN.—On Thursday the annual meeting of the friends and supporters of this useful local institution was held in the upper class-room of the building in Beck-lane, Nottingham. Mr. Alderman Heard, chairman of the committee, took the chair. Wm. Enfield, Esq., the honorary secretary, read the eighth annual report, which was of a satisfactory nature. It stated that the number of students was still increasing, and it al luded in a very lucid manner to the importance of the insti tution in spreading a taste for art among the public; and its decided effect in improving the designs in the local manufactures ; hence it wits matter of surprise that the subscriptions from the neighbour hood could not be increawd annually from 1001. to 2001. By the financial statement it appeared there was a balance in hand of lle. 2d.—Mr. Alderman Herbert moved the adoption of the report, which he was pleased to see of such a favourable character.—Mr. Heymann se conded the motion, and, alluding to his visit to the Exhibi tion, he observed that while the English excelled in every thing that was useful and stood unrivalled, they had agrcat deal to do in matters of taste so that the articles which were made so cheap as to excite the wonder of the world might be produced, as they could be, by the employ ment of less Labour upon it with still more taste. It could not he denied the English were thoroughly beaten in matters of taste. He therefore strenuously urged upon the students of this school, and all de signers, to pay more attention to those matters, and to inspect closely the productions and follow the example of their continental neighbours. He referred to the rapid advance made in the school dutang . the eight years since its commencement, and the stimulus it had al ready given to the manufactures of . the town. Although there was a small balance in hand, , t was because the ex ethedwasto o t tl hear oo o l un . tAolf thhad .locale, 1501. they were liable at any time to have the school taken incomeuit u n undertaken b been i e pa c a t ie accommodated sm e n sc : a a h h o o i I was estab y lished tofu t u s h from them and given to any other town who would sub scribe the required amount. !?.very exertion should then be made to increase the amount, to show the government that while they were doing so much for them, they were not slow in supporting an institution like the present. —The motion was carried nem. dos.—Nottingham Review. DEATH OP SIR CHARLES BANNERMAN, BART.--. We have to record the demise of Sir Charles Bannerman, Bart., of Elsick, N. 8., who died on Wednesday last, altar a short illness. The deceased was the eighth baronet of the family, which is of considerable antiquity, being de scendedfrom the hereditary banner bearers of the Kings of Scotland in the 10th and 11th centuries. Sir Charles was born in 1782, and married, in 1821, his cousin, daughter of Mr. Alexander Bannerman, father of the late member for Aberdeen. The deceased baronet is succeeded by his eldset son, Alexander Bannerman, born in 1823.