The Sun. — London, England, 1858-12-27 00:00:00

THE NAVY. Her Majesty's store-ship Aid, Grandy master, has arrived at Chatham from Portsmouth, and has com menced unloading war stores for that dockyard. The inspection of the vessels comprising the steam reserve in ordinary at Chatham has been completed by Captain E. P. Halsted, of the Cressy, 80, guardship of the steam reserve at the Nore. Captain Halsted will also inspect the storesbelong ing to the reserve deposited in Chatham dockyard. It is reported at Plymouth that on leaving Queenstown the Channel fleet will rendezvous in the Tagus for three months. During her late search for the Bombay the Racoon, 22, Captain J. A. Paynter, which returned on the 17 th, encoun tered very heavy weather ; the wardroom mess equipage was nearly all broken. When the Bruns wick, Capt. E. Ommanney, returned she brought a disabled barque with her. The Orion, Captain D'Eyncourt, being suffering from small-pox, will probably be detached, and is expected at Plymouth. Considerable activity prevails in the Royal William Victualling-yard at Plymouth. Contracts were made on Wednesday with Messrs. Collier, Brothers, for 1,100 qrs. of wheat,—viz., 300 at 425. 6d., 500 at 425. 9d., and 300 at 435. On this occasion advertisements were issued for 2,000 qrs., and much more than the quantity was offered. 'Quite unexpectedly advertisements have been since issued for the supply of 2,000 qrs. early in January. Eight ovens are to be put to work, and the sailors' wives are ordered in to make navy beds. It is probable that the London, 90, will be brought forward for commission, in anticipation of the re turn of the Sanspareil, Pique, and Nankin ; the Sanspareil is expected at Plymouth early in January. The schooner Quail (Liberian) and the Creole, 26, were put out of Dock at Devonport on Friday. The transport Tartar, Capt. Jeam, 14 days out, from London. with 83 men, belonging to different regiments, for Madras, put into Plymouth Sound windbound on Friday. The screw steam-frigate Liffey, 51, Capt. G. W. Preedy, was paid advance wages in Plymouth Sound. on Thursday. The screw steamship Ormeo, Capt. M'Meikan, from London, with 240 miles of telegraph cable, intended to be laid between Melbourne and Hobart Town, continues in Plymouth Sound. Mr. W. Pearce has been promoted to be Inspec , or of Shipwrights at Chatham dockyard, vice Mr. D. Harding, retired. THE ARMY. Major F. E. Apple Yard, 7th Royal Fusileers, has been appointed Major of the Ist battalion at Chat ham, in the room of Major R. Inglis, who has retired from that appointment and joined the 7th Fusileers. In consequence of the large number of recruits who have recently joined the depots of the various East India regiments now at Chatham, the three battalions of infantry at that garrison are very strong, each numbering upwards of 1,000 non-com missioned officers and men. Notwithstanding the large numbers of reinforcements recently despatched to India, there are still upwards of 1,000 men of all ranks at Chatham garrison fit for embarking when ever their services may be required. They have undergone a course of instruction in the use of the Enfield rifle, and are fit to take the field ,imme diately on arriving in India. THE PRESS IN PRUSSIA. (From the Times.) Baron Manteuffel and the late Prussian Ministry • handled the difficulty of a free press with far greater adroitness than any continental statesman of our time. .Look at the brutal soladtesque manner in which the French Government deals with its re fractory sheep. A sergeant of dragoons would have quite as brilliant ideas upon the subject as the Im perial censor of the Parisian press. If any remark or notice appears in the columns of any among our French contemporaries which may be displeasing to the Emperor or his Ministers, or his Court, or the director of the Opera, or the court hairdresser, an " order" is straightway despatched directing what shall be done. If this " order" be repeated twice or thrice there is an end of the offending print. The chapter of confiscation has begun. This is the milder method of treatment for gentle infractions of the - system. Substitute the word "offensive" for " displeasing,' and the unfor tunate editors and proprietors must make up their minds to the rigours of war. There was theproces Montalembert the other day. Was there ever such an idle and impotent display . of force for so insufficient a cause ? If we can point out how the same end can be accomplished with every form of politeness, and with every outward deference to the public opinion of the country, even the advisers of the French Emperor will admit that we have done them good service. Now, it surely would have been much better if, in place of this clumsy prosecution of M. de Montalembert, it could have been so managed that the stinging parts of the vamphlet had been turned into neat compliments to the Imperial system ; or, perhaps still better, into what our neighbours call des grosses betises, which would have excited the hilarity of the public at the author's expense. A few judicious inter polations to the effect that in the middle of the discussion " Sir Pakington" and " Sir Grey" had come to blows, or that the Opposition had inflamed their courage with little glasses of " rhum," which were carried about by the Sergeant-at-Arms and the Lord Mayor, would certainly have divested the pamphlet of some portion of its authority. Matters can be so dexterously managed that the author should never dare to whisper a word of the alterations in his . MS. With anonymous publica tions it is still easier to carry out this system which it is the glory of Baron Manteuffel to have de vised. Paris has still something to learn from Berlin. The system to which we are about to call the attention of the French and of the Continental Governments generally is familiarly known by the Prussian sufferers as the " Apostolic system." The first step in it is the formation of a "Central Press Bureau." •A few trustworthy men are placed over this, and their first efforts are directed to the for mation of a competent staff of writers. The most available recruits for the purpose are considered to be the young and enthusiastic men of letters who compromised themselves in 1848. If they would re establish a character with the Government such as woukl entitle them at a future day to employ. ment in any department of the service of the State, they must hold themselves at the disposal of the Central Press Bureau. As they have fought in the opposite ranks, it is supposed, and not without rea son, that they will be the most competent persona to act against their former opinions. For a certain time they are held in leadingstrings, and carefully indoctrinated in the finer and more subtle learning of Prussian Kingcraft. When their education complete they are entered as R Apostles." So far for the staff of the Bureau ; but, in order that an apt field may b e f oun d f or th e i r l a b ours , it is the constant duty of the Central Press Bureau to keep an eye upon all th e newspapers w hi c h are published throughout the Prussian dominions. - Should it some niorning, appear that the Branden burg Bee or the Silesian People's Friend has ad mitted into its columns a paragraph announcing that "His Sacred Majesty was observed to sneeze, from which the more advanced Liberals had drawn a deduction that a cold in the head would be a not impossible solution of the catarrh difficulty ;" or expressed an opinion inimical to the Siberian development of the Russian system, or been guilty of any other mild act of imprudence of the like kind, the editor or proprietor receives a corn- munication from the Central Bureau. Although couched in courteous terms, he is informed that a paternal Government cannot, - without a dereliction of duty, view the dissemination of such venomous opinions among the population. The Central Bureau is willing to believe—nay, is convinced, that there is no ill will or culpable endeavour to mislead the public ; but, still, when the conductor of a journal has been guilty of one act of impru• uence, be may be guilty of another. In order to avoid unpleasant consequences the Central Press Bureau is willing to come to the assistance of the bewildered editor. An " Apostle" shall be sent to him, who, of course, in recompense for the services he renders, must be suitably entertained. This " Apostle," a gentleman c in whom the Central Press Bureau has eritireits of dence, will keep the editor points lfi straight upon all political controversy ; he will run his ey e over' the suitablearticles, strike out any obnoxious phrases, or addones, as the case may be; he will keep the columns v,,ieh of the journal h clear of any announcement _ might possibly get its conductors into trouble —for it must not b e lost sig,ht of throughout the discussion that it is the imperative duty of the Government to suspend the license of . any erring journal. The Central Press Bureau, however.—careful for the interests of individuals, and anxious not to interfere with the property of any Prussian subject —is gra _ ciously pleased, in order that such unpleasant consequences may be avoided, to have recourse in the first instance to the mildei system of trying what an " Apostle" can do to reclaim the wander ing Press-sheep, and bring it back by gentle methods to sweet waters and pleasant pastures. . _ The mission is a delicate One, and Must require considerable judgment. It would, of course, be a very simple matter to turn a Liberal journal at one effort into the despotic groove ; but Baron Manteuffel was far too shrewd a man to wish that done. The duty of the " Apostle" was to keep the paper ostensibly on its own line, but to denude its attitude of anything which could cause a moment of serious disquiet to the Government. It ~___ might even at times assume a tone of fierce decla mation, but its fire must be directed on some utterly unimportant point. If a doctrine really unpalatable to the Government were at any time brought for ward, it must be - so in such a way as to give the triumph by easy inference to the party of order. There must be an entire absence of any announce ments, either of foreign or domestic intelligence, which could in any way embarrass the King's servants, or diffuse a suspicion among the people that any abuse existed in any depart ment of State. Thus, the Minister gained abso lute power not only over the journals on his own side, but over those which nominally repre sented the Opposition; and all this was to be done so adroitly that the impulse from behind should never be seen. Now, this is a downright stroke of genius, and as far superior in effect to the French system as Machiavelli was superior to a corporal or a police-constable. We can well un derstand what the feelings of the wretched editors and contributors must have been when they saw their own guns turned upon their own friends day by day by the ingenuity of the " Apostle." The Government had all the credit, without any of the inconveniences, of liberality. The Liberal party had the satisfaction of seeing their doctrines and opinions caricatured by their own teachers, and there was not an atom of violence. The journal was like a child afflicted with a huge tapeworm, which diverted all the nourishment apparently swallowed to its own sustenance. It was a sparrow's nest troubled with a cuckoo. It was a tree smothered and killed with ivy. How different from the French system, and how immeasureably supe• rior to it. THE NEW REFORM BILL. (From the Daily News.) The opponents of Reform, unwilling to deny the right of the working classes to the suffrage, take refuge in the weak and evasive question, Cui Bono ? What is the good of granting this right, of what possible use can it be to these classes ? This may fairly be answered by asking the wider question— What is the good of doing an act of mere justice at all,? Whatever is the use of granting rights to these who fairly claim them? If the wrongs are convenient and venerable why not perpetuate them? If the rights have only truth and justice to recom mend them, and involve at the same time a good deal of disturbance and change, why not continue to refuse them ? Mr. Bright, however, in his Glasgow speech, gives a more direct and practical reply to the sceptical inquiry of hostile critics. To the question, Cui bond ? he answers reasonably enough, that the suffrao.e, by increasing their self-respect, will be a powerful instrument for the elevation of the work ing classes. It will increase their motives to exer tion, and stimulate their efforts towards self-improve ment. It will implant within them that feeling of citizenship which is the germ of public virtue, For, without a fair measure of political freedom and responsibility, there is but little scope or stimulus for the display of higher patriotism. The feeling of public responsibility awakens a sense of public duty, and stimulates its possessor to discharge it in the most honourable and efficient manner. Duties are the sources of virtues. The suffrage, by bestow ing political power, will tend directly to develop public virtues. Self-reepect, too, is the prolific source of private virtues, such as temperance, fru gality, industry, and the like ' • and the enfranchise ment of the working classes will thus powerfully contribute to their social elevation. One of the most powerful motives to self-respect is the respect of others, and the respect of others is n a t ura lly increased by the multiplication of our public rights and privileges. On the other hand, the continued withholding of these rights not only deprives the claimants of the public respect to which they are fairly entitled, but tends to sink them in their own esteem. Those who are forcibly kept in an in ferior position, social or political, become so far degraded in mind and character. Their nature, " like the dyer's hand," becomes subdued to What it works in. That adult vassalage of any kind must exert some such injurious influence, reflection naturally suggests, and experience abundantly confirms. All this, however, the Times, in these its last days of opposition to reform, finds it necessary to deny. While allowing that to increase the self respect of the working classes " would undoubtedly be a great collateral advantage," it more than ques tions whether the franchise would have any such effect. The •possession of the suffrage could have "no perceptible effect in elevating his views or reforming his conduct. As a body, they do not want it ; and it would do them no good if they got it." This is exactly the kind of argument that:was used a quarter of a century ago in the anti-slavery agitation. The opponents of the movement, who professed to be intimately acquainted with the wants and wishes of the negroes, as well as with what was really best for them, loudly demanded of the anti-slavery reformers —What was the use of, emancipation ? The slaves did not want it. They had food and clothes, regular occupation, and convenient dwellings. They were quite happy and contented. What use could their liberty be to them ? It was a nominal blessing that would probably do them far more harm than good. They were, in short, an inferior race,to whom freedom would be a perilous good; who might in some few instances perhaps turn it to good account, but who, as a body, were far better and happier without it. It seems never to have occurred to these reasoners that freedom is necessary to develop the nobler elements of character; that systematic oppression inevitably degrades, and that in this way slavery ends by producing the slavish mind it quotes in its own defence. We do not, of course, mean to draw any parallel between the negroes in the West Indies and the working classes in our own country. We simply say that the arguments against the personal emancipation of the negroes and those against the political emancipation of the working classes are precisely of the same kind, and of precisely equal worth. The working classes of this country enjoy a large amount of personal, social, and industrial freedom ; but their emancipa tion is noNomplete. They arc in a state of poli tical subjection, which exercises an injurious in fluence on their character, and from which they have the strongest claims to be freed. No one indeed is bold enough to deny these claims. The enemies of Reform talk, it is true, in a vague and declamatory key about destroying the Constitution ; but the right of every freeman is as old as the Constitution. The only .bars to the practical enjoyment of this right that have ever been formally recognised are pauperism and ignor ance. These, however, were so far diminished a quarter of acentury ago, that the supporters of the last Reform Bill recognised the right of the work ing classes to the suffrage, only they counselled patience and moderation in urging it. It would be impossible, they argued f . to secure all at once ; but if the working classes would unite in a common effort to obtain the franchise for the great body of the middle classes, the reformed Parliament would accomplish the rest: The enfranchisement of the lower class, it was said, would speedily follow that of the one immediately above it. But if the working classes, as a body, were prosperous and intelligent enough to be entrusted with the franchise thirty years ago, what must be the added strength of their claim to-day ? They are now almost as much above themselves of that era as they were then,below the middle classes. Almost every yearsince the passing of the Reform Bill has witnessed some fresh effort in the direction of popular education and commer cial reform. It has been a period prolific beyond all precedent in measures of social and commercial improvement. By the influence of emigration on the one hand, and the repeal of the Corn Laws on the other, the burden of pauperism has been lifted from the land ; so that, in spite of the enormous drain of a European war, we are in a state of unpa ralleled prosperity. Through the vigorous impulse given to national education, elementary schools have been multiplied in every part of the country, and evening classes organised in all the great cen tres of industry. While the area of direct education has thus been extended, the means of indirect education have multiplied a thousand fold. Within this period have risen the mechanical and chemical inventions that characterise the age : railways, steam navigation, electric telegraphs, cheap literature, and the penny post. The educa tional influence of these new and powerful agen cies can be scarcely overrated. Under their wide and effectual teaching Chartism has collapsed, the occupation of the professional demagogue is gone. It is no longer possible for him to gratify his spleen, his vanity, or his ambition, at the expense of truth and justice, by highly wrought appeals to the igno rance and passions of the working classes. They are now able to read and judge for themselves, and would only smile with scornful incredulity at the terrible stories that were told them, and which they devoutly believed, twenty years ago. The working classes are now far better educated, more intelligent, more prudent, industrious, and reflective than they were thirty, twenty, or even ten years ago. But the expectation of obtaining theirpolitieal rights has been all along a Strong stimulus in their career of self-improvement. They have kept steadily in view the prospect of obtaining through the suffrage a fair shire of political influence. During these comparatively silent years have shown they h • shown how hi g hl y they value the suffrage by ve diligently qualifying themselves for the duties it imposes, instead of noisily clamouring for its immediate possession. It will never do to tell these men that they do not want the franchise, that it will do them no good, or that however strong them ngand just their claim it is impossible to give the prize for which they have so patiently and zealously laboured. THE SUN, LONDON, MONDAY EVENING, DECEMBER 27, 1858. THB.SPEAKER'S NEW RESIDENCE. Under ordinary circumstances the public care very little whether the Right Hon. the Speaker occupies a first floor in Bloomsbury or a Palace in Belgravia, or whether the Court Guide gives only those local designations —equivalent to living no where, and politely signified by the words " Re form" or " Athemeum" after each name. If it was only a question of the Speaker's moving from Fitz regin ald-street to De Beauvoir-place there would be nothing in the tedious process which would call for a notice in the columns of this journal. The case, however, is different when the new residence is the official palace—built by the country, not only for this, but all succeeding Speakers of the House of Commons, and occupying a fair proportion of that suburb of palaces known as the New Houses of Parliament. It is a long time since the Speakers have had an official residence. The last, near St. Stephen's Chapel, was destroyed by the fire of 1835, and since that date, as far as State residences were concerned, succeeding Speakers have been in a manner houseless. The old residence, however, was no great loss, save for its historical associations. It had plenty of these, though, and, like all historic buildings used as modern dwellinghouses, was as cramped, comfortless, and ill-adapted to its purpose as a helmet with vizor down would now be for shaving in. It, is to replace this old monument that the present magnificent residence has been built, and, as it is now within a very short time of completion and will soon be occupied by the pre sent Speaker, a brief sketch of its principal rooms may be of interest to our readers. The long line of the new houses on the river front is broken by four towers—if we may so call them—two at each end. Tho two next Westminster-bridge are destined for the Sergeant at-Arms snd the Speaker; those at Vauxhall end for the Usher of the Black-rod and Lords' Librarian. The entrance to the Speaker's house is under the archways from Palace-yard, which open at once upon the Speaker's Court, a broad enclosure, on the south side of which a canopied entrance elaborately carved marks where the first commoner in the land will dwell, sur rounded with all the accessories of princely state. The appearance of the house from the courtyard is not very imposing, and few would be inclined to believe that it is one of the most spacious modern residences lately built—larger than the Carlton Club, and having upwards of 70 noble rooms in it from top to bottom. The entrance-porch is large enough to accommodate even all the servants that attend their master on " Speaker's night." Its Gothic windows are filled with richly stained glass, and the arms of the Speakers shine with glowing colours from the panels in the ceiling. The en trance-hall is still more rich and spacious ; the floor is paved with Minton's beautiful tiles, while Gothic ornaments in brass, or still more richly elaborated stone panels, fill every side. The staircase, wide and ample, and carved at every step, passes up the centre of this to the first landing, where it branches off on either side, and encloses the entire hall. The balustrades, of fine designs in brasswork richly gilt, and the superb Gothic chandeliers, each 10 feet high, upon the landings, give to this entrance an air of grandeur and magnificence that is most im posing. Blank shields, to be sculptured on here after with the arms of the most celebrated Speakers of the House of Commons, form the cornice of this hall, the gilt and painted armorial bearings of Eng land on the first landing serving as a great centre to all 'of them. A door on this landing leads through the spacious audience-room to • spacious cloisters, which, in our opinion, form the chief ornament of the whole building. These are formed in the inner part of the building, over the servants' offices, so as to extend'along the four interior sides of the house. Each cloister is 40 feet long, by eight broad, and 10 high. The roof is covered with the delicate tracery of the fan groined arches which spread over it like a network of stone, giving the most exquisite effects of light and shade, while four lanterns in each c l o i s t er li g ht it w ith a soft mellow richness that becomes the place and its associations. The side of each cloister looking on the inner quadrangle is formed by canopied Gothic windows, filled in with stained glass, each pane containing the name, arms, and date of election of every Speaker since Parliaments first chose the guidance of those high officers. Com pared with the antiquity of Parliament, Speakers may almost be considered as modern luxuries. There have been many Parliaments, but all the Speakers recorded in these cloisters, from Peter de Montford to Evelyn Denison, Esq., only 131. It is curious to look back upon these bright records of our his tory and constitutional progress, and note by the names how the great families of old—the Durwards, Treshams, Nevilles, De Veres, De la Warrs, and Audleys—have all disappeared or been merged into what were then considered the mushroom nobility of that day, though now old enough. There are not many records of Parliament and none at all of Speakers before the reign of Henry 111., and the honour of standing first on the list belongs to the great Sir Peter de Montford, who was elected in 1260, and who is justly considered the first Speaker of- the House of Commons, from his having been deputed by that assembly to send, in the names of all, a humble address to Pope Alexander 11. After his death at the battle of Evesham, however, there is an interval of no less than 66 years before we meet with another—William Tressel, elected 1326. The third estate, however, seems have been but poorly treated in those days, and the people so little anxious for representative government that we find them about this time complaining grievously of having to pay the knights of the shires 4s. per day, and the burgesses as much as 2s. The latter, also, seemed to have been overawed at sitting with the proud feudal barons and the rich ecclesiastics who then assembled with them in " council," and be sought to be allowed to meet separately, to which the barons gladly consented, and betook themselves forthwith to the Old Chapter at Westminster, while the burgesses sat in St. Stephen's Chapel. The first Speaker actually mentioned by that title in legal documents is Sir W. T. Hungerford, elected 1377, in the reign of Edward 111. We meet with the old name and armorial bearings of the Waldegraves as Speakers as early as 1382 ; while, in 1400, Sir John Tiptoft is elected, and was the first Speaker elevated to the peerage, Henry IV. of Lancaster creating him Baron de Tiptoft in 1406 in return for certain " courtly compliances," which in those days meant a great deal. The Beauchamps are found as early as 1415, while the Baynards of Castle Baynard, in the city where Kings once stayed, and where the Duke of Buck ingham offered the Crown to Richard 111. are seen no more after 1421. John Russell was Speaker in 1423 and 1432. From this date the election of speakers seem, to have occurred with each meeting of Parliaments about once a-year, till the time of Elizabeth, when that arbitrary Sovereign refused to ratify the election of Sir Jahn Popham ; and when afterwards the great Edward Coke filled the chair. 1641 gives us the next name of great note, the William Lenthal of Charles L's disordered Parliament,—the man who refused to answer Charles's questions when he came to seize the members, and in that ill-advised act began the war in which he lost both crown and head. Sir liar bottle Grimston ' of 1660, whose arms are sur mounted with the bloody hand of the Ulster knights, was the first Speaker whose election was never ratified (though he still kept his Speakcrship) by Charles 11. The haughty Edward Seymour, who used to speak of the Duke of Somerset as the young branch of his family, followed the example of Sir Harbottle, though in a different way. In statd.,of asking Charles to ratifyhis election, which he knew the monarch never would, he contented himself with announcing simply that he had been elected and was the Speaker,—a statement which left no course open to the irritated King but to add sharply, in reply, " Very well." The House that was summoned in 1689, after James 11. fled, also elected its own: Speaker, Henry Powle, and this election, also, was never confirmed by William of Orange. Wyndham Greville also was elected without Royal sanction in 1789, while George 111. was mentally incapable of_ attending to any busi. ness. The name and arms of Sir John Trevor are also in the Gothic windows, though Sir John was expelled the House for taking bribes. Of the whole 131 Speakers only 15 have been elevated to the Peer age, by the titles of Baron Tiptoft, Lord Hunger ford, Lord Audley, Earl of • Oxford and Mortimer, Lord Onslow, Earl Wilmington, Lord Grantley,Lord Grenville, Viscount Sidmouth, Lord Redesdale, Lord Colchester, Viscount Canterbury, Lord Dumferm line, and Viscount Eversley. In old times eleva tions to the Upper House occur at very rare inter vals, but latterly, when all that escape the Peerage are sooner or later overtaken by a knighthood, all Speakers on retirement from the Commons get their titles as a matter of course. These storied cloisters lead at once to the yrincipal floor, where the State dining-room, drawing, dining, morning, and wait ing rooms are situated. These are all noble apart- mints, most richly decorated in the Gothic style, and emblazoned. with ornaments after the manner of the House of Peers. The general dining room, 35 feet by 24; is exceedingly beautiful, but the State dining room, a saloon 45 feet long by 24 broad, might well become a palace. The marble mantelpiece in this apartment is a little edifice in itself, tieing 8 feet high by 12 wide and 3 deep. It is copied from an ancient Gothic mantelpiece at Windsor, and is emblazoned all over with the bear- ings of England and those of the most distinguished Speakers. Over it is a full-length portrait of the late Speaker, while round the room are frames set in the walls for the fine collection of portraits of most of the Speakers which have already been col lected. The morning room is also exceeding beau tiful, and when its wall are hung with the tapestry with which all the chief apartments are to be adorned the effect will be rich and tasteful in the extreme. The drawing room as yet scarcely answers the expectations which are naturally formed of it after having seen the others. It seems both too high and too ill-lighted for its size, while the look-out upon the barges in the river or the Lambeth facteiries on the other side is neither cheerful nor picturesque. But a great difference will, of course, appear when its now cheerles walls are tapestried with crimson satin and the room itself replete with furniture of the richest kind. Every part of the house will be fitted up and fur nished in the most magnificent style, entirely at the expense of the government, so that any hon. mem• ber on being elected to fill the chair may at once occupy his official residence without trouble or delay. It is almost a pity that this noble mansion cannot be seen by the public before it is finally occupied, for notwithstanding its unpretentious exterior the taste and richness of its decorations would as much reward the visitor as any other of of the magnificent portions of the New Palace which all are so anxious to inspect. While upon the subject of the new Houses we may mention that the matchless crypt under old St. .Stephen's Chapel, the only part of the Old Palace of Westminster which now exists, is far ad vended towards _complete restoration. No visitors ever extend their researches in this direction, for few are even aware of its existence, though one of the most curious parts of the Old Palace. It is now lit with gas, and workmen are busily- engaged re storing its richly carved bosses. and groaned roof, and replacing the polished columns of Purbeck marble which have been defaced and sadly misused in centuries bygone. Even the most industrious of our antiquaries give very little information con cerning this old chapel, which in olden time was called indiscriminately the King's Chapel, St. Mary Undercroft, and St. Mary-in-the-Faults. In this little chapel, however, in 1238, Henry 111. married his sister, Eleanor, widow of the Earl of Pembroke, to Simon de Montfort, a foreigner, and his favourite, whom he had made Earl of Leicester. When re proached by his brother Richard for allowing such a match, the King replied coarsely that his sister, the fair widow, had loved not wisely, but too well, and that it was necessary her marriage should be hastened as much as possible. Here, also; if the old picture is to be depended on, Caxton presented his first book to Edward IV. The place was always used as a chapel till the fanatics of the Common wealth destroyed its superbly carved marble altars, mutilated the old bosses representing the martyr dom of the Apostles, broke down the exquisite tracery of its gothic windows, and left the place a mere ruin half filled with rubbish. After the resto ration it remained a lumber-room for years, when it was at last cleared out of the dirt which filled it and transformed into a state dining-room for the Speaker, and to give some festive aspect to a solemn and beautifully-constructed place of worship its stonework was in some parts painted and at other gilt. Nothing, however, would hide entirely the sacred purpose of the structure, so an artificial ceil ing was next resorted to, and fixed along .),lalf its length, the other part being portioned off and trans formed into kitchens and lumber rooms. Its exqui site columns were torn out to make rooms for stoves and chimneys, and the tombs of abbots and bishops destroyed that plenty of scullery room and oven space might be obtained. In this disgraceful state it remained till the burning of the Houses of Par liament, when the long-neglected and misused crypt was the only portion of the old Palace which sur vived the conflagration. It. then at once became an object to preserve, so the crypt was incorporated in the design of the new Palace, and is now under neath that portion known as St. Stephen's-hall, where the statues of Fox and Pitt and Burke adorn the very spot whelp the greatest triumphs of their lives were attain • • The crypt will once more, we are glad to say, be used as a place of worship for the officers and func tionaries of both houses.; and to this and every minute detail of the original structure is being carefully restored. •The •fretwork patterns which pass down all the arches of its pointed roofs are some of the most curious anti:most' elaborate in effect that can well be imagined. Its seven pointed win dows are already completely restored, and will soon be filled, as they were before the Revolution, with stained glass representing passages in the life of St. Stephen. Altogether the crypt, when re stored, promises to be one of the most beautiful, as it is already ohe of the most ancient and in teresting, portions of the new Palace.—Times. THE SHOEMAKERS AND THE MACHINE GRIEVANCE. The - Northampton Mercury of Saturday last con tains the following on the dispute which is inflict ing so much injury on the trade of that town : "This Christmas season of ours is one of peace and goodwill to men. Of all times in the year it is that most fitting to forget grievances and make up disputes. It is in this Christmas spirit that we would refer to the recent unhappy dissensions be tween the operatives of this town and the master shoemakers. The question has the merit of being singularly clear and simple. About the facts of the case there is no opening for' dispute. Some of our manufacturers have attempted to introduce machi nery into their shops, under the belief that by so doing they should improve the quality and cheapen the cost of production of their articles. The shoe makers, or rather a large section of them, are under the impression—whether erroneous or not—that the proposed improvements will diminish the num ber of hands employed and the amount of their wages. They have, therefore, resolved not only not to work themselves at any factory where the machinery is employed, but also to deter all other members of the craft from working for such manufacturers. It is the old story of a strike, and the old episodes of the story have not been wanting. There have been riots and mob bings—charges and convictions—loss to everybody both masters and' men—want and misery, and ill blood on every side. , Into the personal details of the question we have no wish to enter. 'We have no bias either way. For that matter, our sympathies are rather with the working men, as being th e wea k er o f the two parties. Yet, at the same time, we are bound to tell them that in this dispute they are in the wrong. If they think the machines are calculated to injure their interests, they have a p er f ect r i g ht to re f use to work for those who use them ; but they have no right whatever to dictate to others the conditions upon which they . shall be at liberty to work, still less have they a right to employ violence and inti midation. Apart, however, from any 'nets of op pression, we hold that, even from their own point of view, the opponents of machinery are acting against their true interests. Either the new ma chines will answer or not. If the latter, the manu facturers will soon cease to employ them. If the fbrinr,struggle against them is a losing one. law,By,a e't h e asieviolable as that which regulates the - rise and flow of the tides, trade flows to the cheapest market. If shoes can be made cheaper and better for the money elsewhere than at Northampton, they will be made there without loss of time; and if Northampton manufacturers are not at liberty to employ the same machinery as in more favoured localities, they cannot compete with their more fortunate rivals. No man, or body of men, can go on working at a loss for any length of time ; and as soon as Northampton becomes less advantageous as a seat for the shoe trade, owing to whatever cause,- shoes will cease to be manufactured there. A fair day's wages for a fair day's work is a very taking cry, but we fear a very false one. There is no such thing as an altract fairness in price or wages. We all have to buy in the cheapest market, and the shoe-trade is no exception to the general rule. Our mechanics thought— and thought, too, with justice—that it was an unbearable grievance that they should have to pay dearer for bread in ord er to increase the wages of the British labourer ; and surely the rule holds equally good that the labourer is not to pay a higher price for his shoes in order to keep up the wages of the shoemaker. The great truth of free trade rests upon the simple fact that what you give to one you must take from another ; that if you spend more on shoes you must spend less on clothes. In spite of cases of individ u al hardship, the law of competition acts on the whole beneficially for all. There is, indeed, no law of nature for the defiance of which the punishment comes so surely and speedily as that of competition. IVe see already the effects of this struggle to keep up artificial prices amongst oun'elees. Kendal, where capital i s free, is rising into importance in preference to Northampton and Stafford, where the use of ma chinery is interdicted.. Large shops have been closed here, or removed elsewhere, and the demand for labour has dembased. These truths are so simple, and the danger of neglecting them so obvious, that we hope they will commend themselves to the convictions of our working population, and that they will at once abandon a struggle which can only aggravate the evils of their present condition, and on which they must inevitably be defeated. CURIOUS EFFECT OF FRIGHT.—A correspondent informs us of the folloping curious circumstance :—A re spectable young married woman had been deprived of her voice for several month, so that she could only speak in an almost inarticulate wiisper. Ono night lately, being a short distance from home, she was frightened by a goat, which she suddenly encountered lying in her path, and being apprehensive that the animal was going to attack her, she not only made the attempt. but p os iti ve ly u tt ere d a loud scream. From that moment her voice was restored.—Bir mingham Post, 31R. MILNES, M.P., ON POPULAR ED UCA 7'lo.iY. At the annual meeting of•the Pontefract Me chanics' Institution on Tuesday, the Rev. R. Stain forth, the vicar, in the chair, Mr. R. M. Milnes, M.P., delivered an address. After remarking on the necessary sameness which characterised ad dresses made at such institutions, he observed : They had recently heard muchin speeches delivered in connexion with these institutions as to the books which should be read by the members. Upon this question he. had always had this feeling—that the books which really interested a man desirous of obtaining information would be the best books for him to read. Expressing, in. passing, his opinion of the value of the newspaper press, and the re markable progress which, within the last few years, it had made in intelligence, in decency, in morality, and in general information, he continued by ob serving that the books which a man should read, as an addition to the, newspaper, was also a matter to be left very much to individual taste. He told a story some time ago at a meeting in connexion with a mechanics' institute, which many people believed he had invented, though it was literally true. The story related to the late Dr. Gaisford, the head of Christ Church College, Oxford, who, when very ill, asked that some light reading might be handed to him. One of Sir W. Scott's novels being handed to him, the doctor said that that was "too heavy," and desii ed." a Greek dictionary. (Laughter.) Now, though the Greek dictionary might be light reading in Dr. Gaisford's estima tion, it certainly could not be light reading either to him (Mr. Manes) or his audience ; but it was clearly impossible for any of them to determine what was really interesting reading to any one besides himself. This, however, he believed would be found to be the fact, that men who were engaged in mechanical employments the greater part of the day, were by no means so unwilling to give their leisure to serious and earnest reading as were per sons who passed most of the day in idleness. (Applause.) He believed that the habit of mecha• nical . work—precise, earnest, industrious, good, mechanical work—would best lead men on to good mental and 'intellectual work. A good workman in the materials of life would, if he had the talent, be a good workman in the. materials of the mind and thus it was that they found that the most remarkable men who had risen from the lower rank of society had not risen from those who had ab stained from work, but from those who had been the most industrious, the most active, and the most intelligent in their own mechanical occupations. (Applause.) There were two things which ore_ ated against young men 'advancing in intellectual pro gress—over-work and over-idleness ; that was to say, over-work and under-work. He thought it no disadvantage whatever to a man's intellectual progress to have something else to do ; and if they looked at the upper classes of society they would find it was equally true in their case as it was in their own—namely, that the man who had the most active, occupation was the man who in public life the most' distinguished himself, and became the most useful to his country. (Applause.) They had recently heard rather prominent objections to the education of the working classes on the pretext that it raised them above their position—that it disinclined them to the usual work and labour of the lot in which they were cast —and that, if extended much further, the effect would be to destroy much of the usefulness of the great stratum of society. Now, he believed the result of increased education would be an improve ment in household and mechanical labour of every kind, that time would be saved, and that the ge neral advantage of the employer and employed would be advanced proportionably to the intelli gence and education of the workmen. He adverted to the expensive nature of slave labour, and to the fact that slave cultivated land was the worst culti vated land in the world, and remarked that what he deduced from this was, that if instead of slave labour they employed free and intelligent work men, the more intelligent and educated they made these workmen the better for both them and their employers. (Applause.) Of course there would be some foolish people (because there would be foolish people so long as the world lasted) who would fancy they were above their position, whereas the fact of their thinking so showed them to be below their position. What they all .had to do was, to make the best of the position in which God had placed them; but to be discontented was only to make themselves unhappy, and, as far as was in their power, to make those around them unhappy also. They must not take these exceptions— which must always occur—as in any degree affecting the general rule, but they must believe that, in the long run, it was the interest of the em ployers as well as of the employed, that the latter should be as intelligent, as well educated, and as useful as possible. (Applause.) Mr. Milnes next referred to the quality of education provided in that town for all classes of its inhabitants, and said he wished 'all the boroughs of England were as well supplied with the means of education as was Pontefract. There was not the slightest reason whatever why eveiy one of their children should not receive the fullest education, which would enable them to develop their faculties in the best manner, without danger, or discomfort to the state, and with every hope of advancment and pros perity to themselves. (Applause.) As a citizen of a free country (and, unfortunately, when they looked at other countries they must be more and more jealous of that peculiarity of this country) he was bound to say that he looked upon this progress of educat ion as the greatest safety of the nation, and he did not 'see how otherwise they could look forward with confidence. The in creased population of Great Britain, the chances of life, the failings of what were called the learned professions, the increasing sense of independence which had been developed, and which was growing up amongst them—all these things would cause anxiety in reference to the future of their country, if they had not • two safeguards to which, under Providence, they could look with the greatest hope, nomely, in the immaterial world their education, and in the material world their colonies. If they educated their children to be intelligent, active, enterprising Englishmen, they always knew that there were portions of the world to which they could go and make their fortunes, and to establish New. Eng I ands, which they and their posterity might raise at some future period to be greater even than the mother country—daughter-nations of their own England. It was with this reflection that the young men and women of England might fairly unite with each other without fear of burdening their nation, because they knew there were coun tries to which they might proceed, where they would hear their mother speech and find kindred and familiar institutions, and where the more chil dren they had the better—(laughter)—for it had been . said that " children were the true wealth of a colony." For this reason it was that heurged them to educate their children, and make them not only diligent in the study but in the active business of the world, not merely bookworms but able to apply their knowledge and education to the actual con cerns of life ; and they might then look forward with hope and confidence to the future of England. (Applause.) The power of the education which that and similar institutions afforded was of advantage not merely to the individual, but it enabled every one of them to become, as it were, a wheel in the great engine of society in the generation in which they liVed. Education also made the difference between a man being only a mere unit, living within himself and in the present moment, and one who was enabled to live in all the past of the world, and looking at it religiously, in all the future of the world. In the higher order of animal s th ey discovered, to a limited extent, the power of asso ciating one idea with another, and the power of memory, but speaking generally they found that the animal lived in the present, having no concep tion of the future. One of their poets had expressed this in describing " The lamb that crops the flowery food, And licks the hand prepared to shed its blood." - - The differenCe between man and the animal was this—man could remember and foresee ; and edu cation enabled him to understand that he was not a unit in creation, living in any particular moment, but that he was part of a generation of men—part of the great flow of generations of men—that there was a vast stretch out into the history of his own nation, and into that of other nations which he could learn and understand, and that there was a future for himself and his children for which he could provide like a reasonable being. Thus educa tion enabled a man to spread the life of the actual present over a past and over a future; he under stood, by reading history, how generations of men had gone before him—men like himself, with the same passions, the same habits, the same fbllies, and the samo virtues—and he understood how these generatiohs had all gone on, preparing the world for him; and he might also see how, by his own activity, and prudence, and intelligence, he too, .could perform his part in preparing the world for the future of his children and his children's child- ren, and thus extend the benefits of his life to generations yet to come, as he had inherited from ienerations that were past. (Applause.) It was thus that the individual man not only gained for himself by education a . great advantage and gratifi cation, but was developing to the utmost those won derful gifts which God had placed within him, and was perforining a part, and a not unimportant part, in the great drama of the world's history of which God Almighty was the creator, and author, and the finisher. In conclusion, the hon. gentleman urged upon his audience to continue their efforts on behalf of that institution, in the assurance that the seed they had sown would spring up after many days, and produce abundant fruit for themselves and their country. (Loud applause.) THE EARL OF CARLISLE ON INDIVI DUAL EXERTION. A public meeting was held on Tuesday evening in the Assembly-room, Driffield, in connexion with the mechanics' institution of that town. The Right Hon. the Earl of Carlisle, the patron of the insti tution, presided, and there was a numerous attend ance of the friends of popular education as imparted by'such institutions. The Earl of CARLISLE, after expressing the plea sure he derived from taking part in the proceedings of that evening, congratulated the members of the institution upon the occasion which had brought them together—that of the institution attaining its majority. His lordship then alluded to the fact that it was a quarter of a century since he . had ad dressed- a public meeting of the inhabitants of that town—a period which had not been a retrograde one either on the part of that county or of the country, and the leading events of which he pro seeded briefly to refer to. On the occasion to which he referred everybody was occupied with the great reform bill, which then took up so large a share of public attention. Well, now, he found every one is expecting another reform bill. He could not flatter them at Driffield that they were likelyto be included as a borough in the next re form bill to return members to Parliament. He thought they must wait for two or three more re form bills before they came to that, and in the meantime he could only advise them to go on qualify ing themselves for the change some one or two cen turies hence. His lordship then said, now I contend that the survey of what has been achieved in the period L have referred to is, on the whole, very satisfactory ' • and I shall be very glad, if we are to have by and by another reform bill—about which I say nothing—l shall be very glad if those who have to review what has been done at the distance of another quarter of a century hence will be able to look back upon so promising, sound, and whole some a crop of measures. (Hear.) But I want now, after having taken this brief and necessarily incom plete and imperfect retrospect of the leading mea sures which have occupied the public mind in that period of time which has elapsed since I last addressed you—l want to impress upon you to bear in mind how little any of us can personally do upon such a wide and imposing theatre. But there is a sphere of action, however apparently limited in its range and insignificant in its consequences, in which we all - of us can bear a most important part, and in which, so far from doing nothing, we can every one of us do everything—l mean the sphere of our own personal obligations and duties. (Ap plause.) Now, you know that it is from an addi tion of:units that millions are composed, and it is equally true that all the men and the women whom I now address make up that which, on the whole, I flatter myself, is a• most respectable and creditable aggregate—the British people. This con sideration is enough to stimulate the ambition of every one, in whatever sphere of life or in whatever walk or profession he may be engaged. But, per haps, we shall all think our own responsibilities are enough without troubling ourselves with the general responsibilities of the empire. Well, so be it. If every one of us only will be, according to his means and opportunities, honest, industrious, sober, temperate, pure, lowly-minded, and loving hearted; then, ladies andgentlemen, we need have no fear of what the general • complexion of the British character, or the prevailing tissue of the British fortunes, may be. (Applause.) In making my enumeration of the desirable qualities for us to exhibit, I mentioned the word " sober." Now, it is not many of those who come to attend the meetings of a mechanics' institution, or who by the patron age and contributions which they are exercising to foster the well-being of such institutions—it is not many of those we should expect to find who are against the laws of sobriety. But I cannot conceal my feeling that perhaps our besetting fault, as a community, is an over-indulgence in drinking. (Cheers.) I believe much good will be done by a better regulation of beerhouses—(renewed applause) —either by gradually superseding themaltogether, or, if that cannot be done,put them under stricter and more wholesome control. (Hear.) But still, after all, measures of police and Acts of Parliament are' clumsy methods of effecting a national reformation ; and if our own good people—if our own industrious working men and women, would only themselves be resolutely sober, it would then signify com paratively little even if beer-houses and public houses were worse managed than they are at pre sent. (Cheers.) I believe your attention will not be ill bestowed if some better method of hiring servants-in husbandry can be devised than that of the statute fairs. (Applause.) When I have seen stout lads and lasses standing together in the mar ket-place ready to be looked at and often handled— (laughter)—with all the differences—and they are world-wide differences—yet I must confess this is a sight - which sooner than anything else puts me in mind of that most painful and horrible of all spec tacles which I have witnessed—a slave market in the United States. (Cheers.) Therefore, if only for the dignity of the labouring classes of this country, who I am sure deserve all our regard on the part of farmers and employers of labour, for securing active and good and trusty servants, I do wish there could be some method of paying more attention to charac ter and previous conduct, and thus satisfy them selves of the trustworthiness of those whom they propose to hire. However, ladies and gentlemen, I feel that I owe you an apology, for I am sure I did not mean to hold forth to you in the tone and _spirit of a sermon ; for such matters I must refer you to the teachings of the pulpit ; I must refer you to the advice of good and sensible men such as are to be .found in every district of our country. I must refer you to what lam happy to think you have in connexion with this institution —a tolerably well stocked library ; for you will find among the volumes there such as you have now collected, which probably will be largely in creased in the future—you will find the.precepts of an impressive and a lofty morality—you will find the warnings and the lessons of history and biogra phy, which have been well described as " philoso phy teaching by example," and you may find often very wholesome instruction as well as entertain ment in works.of well-directed fiction. lam happy that these advantages are, to a great extent, open to you by such an institute as that which we are now met here to encourage and promote. I sin cerely trust that it may continue to receive both the liberal support, and, what is still more valuable, the interest and the sympathy of the people in this neighbourhood. (Cheers.) I am most happy to have been able to join you here to celebrate its coming of age. The members of the institute, like other young mot in other places on coming of age, would have no Objection to having a considerable pro perty. (A laugh.) Still remember some acquisition to their property will be secured to them by the good wishes and support of the people in this neighbourhood, and, if they do gain any future support or any further funds, I trust they may have the wisdom to _ employ it for the benefit o f th e whole community. PARLIAMENTARY REFORM.—The Metropolitan Boroughs Committee held another meeting yesterday, at the London Coffee-house ; W. Shaen, Esq., of Bedford-row, in the chair. John Savage, Esq., of Thornhill-square; was added to the committee, and several other influential gentlemen were nominated for the outlying districts of tho metropolis. All discussion was adjourned to the next meeting. VACANCIES, APPOINTMENTS, AND PROMOTIONS IN THE CIVIL SERVICE.—War Department.—There are vacancies for three junior clerks in the War-office ; com mencing salary, £lOO per annum. Mr. D. Pigott has been appointed to a temporary clerkship in the Assistant Ac countant-General's branch, Horse-o-uards. Law Depart ment.—The Recordership of Derby has become vacant by the .death of Mr. Commissioner Balguy. The Board of Trade.—A clerkship in the Board of Trade has become vacant by the resignation of Mr. R. F. Townsend. General Post -office.—There is a vacancy for a third-class clerk in the secretary's office, St. Martin's-le-Grand; commencing salary, £l2O per annum. There is also a vacancy for a sup plementary clerk in the same branch ; commencing salary, £BO per annum. There is a vacancy in the receiver and accduntant-general's office, St. Martin's-le-Grand, for a junior clerk; commencing salary, £BO per annum. Thero is likewise a vacancy in the mail-office, St. Maitin's-le- Grand, for . a junior clerk ; commencing salary, £BO per annum. Mr. Urquhart J. Thompson, first clerk in the secretary's:office, Dublin, has been appointed chief clerk in the same office, in the room of Mr. Charles J. Bond, de ceased. Mr. George Beale, second-class clerk,, post-office, Dublin, has been appointed to the first class, in the room of Mr. Rowland B. Evans, appointed deputy controller. In land Revenue Department.—Excise Branch.—Mr. Thos. Dean, collector of London East, has retired from the ser vice on a pension of £458 per annum. East Indies.—Sir Henry Davison, Chief Justice of Bombay, has been ap: pointed Chief Justice of. Madras, in the room of Sir Henry Rawlinson, whose term of office is about to expire ; Mr. B H. Ellis - has been appointed, pro tem., secretary in charge of the Financial and Revenue Departments, Bombay Pre sidency, in the room of Mr. Hart ; Mr. London (uncove wanted service) has been appointed Administrator -General, in the room of Mr. Standen,:d ecease d . —Ci vil Service Gazette. ii[ADVERTISEMENT.I—Rarey's Horse and Cattle Improv ing Food is equally adapted to improve the stamina of ill conditioned Horses, Cows, Bullocks, Calves, Sheep, and Pigs. It cause s no ex t ra expense, as it contains far more and better nourishment than its cost of 11d. per feed sup plies in corn and hay; hence ensures an actual saving in the keep. But its principal advantages are a great im provement in the digestive functions, the sta m i na an d general condition of rses enabling them to. perform far more labour without getting distressed. It imparts new vigour to sick, debilitated,, or old apparently worn-out horses, and it puts rapidly the finest flesh on cattle gene rally, and improves the milk in cows, as it enables them to extract the entire nourishment out of everything they feed on. Rarey and Co., 77, Regent's Quadrant, Piccadilly, London. Packed in tins of about 99 feeds, 1 ls. ; in casks of about 450 feeds, 50s. ; of about 1,000 feeds, £5, being lid. per feed. POLICE INTELLIGENCE.—Dec. 24. WORSHIP-STREET.—On Friday, John Leiry, a shoemaker; John Cooper, of the salt to trade ; John Rayner, comic singer ; Charles Mor an, a dancer ; Mary steel, a dancer • Emily Hayward, sentimental singer and dancer; Alfred Barkley, -musician; and Charles Phillips, money -taker, were "brought before Mr. Hammill, on a warrant granted by the Com missioners of Police, under the 2d and 3d of Vic toria, for being unlawfully engaged. in an unlicensed theatre, thereby incurring penalties under the act. Superintendent Steed, of the 1-1 division, produced the warrant, and stated that in virtue of it he, between 9 and 10 o'clock on the previous evening, proceeded to premises situated in Church-street, Bethnal green, used as an unlicensed.theatre, and had all the defendants taken into custody, as being engaged in and connected with the performance. The audi ence, greatly alarmed, were allo wed to leave: There was a raised stage, scenery, ttnd appurtenances for the performance of theatrical 'pieces, besides a bill of entertainments at the door, " Commence at six—New singers, new dancers, &c.," which, with portions of the " effects," were re.moved to this court. .One of the sergeants was ready to give evi dence of the performance, and this being required, Sergeant Cleary, HB, said—l had been ordered to attend the theatre several times. Once I saw the " Robber's Wife" played, but last night it was a new piece. Mr. Hammill—WhL't was it called ? Witness—" The Prom l igate Nephew, or the Dis inherited." (Laughter.] Mr. Hammill—You were one of the audience, I presume ? Witness—l was a dustman, with a black eye, and I paid one penny admission. (Much laughter.) Mr. Hammill—Then you did not go to the boxes. Now, what did you see ? Witness—The first thing was a. song, c , p a ddy on the Railway ;" then there was a sailor's hornpipe , by a lady in tights ; then there was tile laughing gas that did not affect anybody; then there was — Mr. Hammill—Come to the legitima.te—was there any acting ? Who was the profligate _nephew ? Witness—This gentleman ; and thin , was the Count ; and this was Ralph the Reckless.—a most determined villain. This lady was the Count's be loved wife Alice ; and this genteman was the old one. Mr. Hammill— The bill states this to be a ballet ; was there any dialogue ? Witness—The " old un "—I mean the un .cle— enters and says that he has a dissipated .nej ?hew; I and that he is going to town—Doctors '- commc 'Ds, believe, or else the Apothecaries' Hall—to disin herit him. The nephew, who is the Count, (wines in, and begs that he will not go, for the sake of his beloved Alice. The old gentleman is not to be done, however, and does go. The Count strikes a bargain with Ralph the Reckless to way lay and murder him, that he may get possession of the will in his bosom, and does so.• The uncle dies at the AP pointed time, is carried off as stiff as possible, and the piece terminated without any satisfactory result, as I stepped on to the stage and collared the Count, while, upon a given signal, my superintendent and inspector with 12 men forced an entrance and Se cured the rest. Mr. Hammill—The Dustman secured the Count? Witness—Yes, sir ; I thought he was the worst of the lot, but just as I got hold of him, 67 H, my brother officer, collared me. He thought that I Was one of the "dramatis personre." Mr. Hammill—Well, the piece certainly turned out tragically. Witness—lt was a melodrama, sir. Thero was comedy in it, for this gentleman was one Peter= Popp, a beadle or policeman ; who had a scene wit fi this other lady, his sweetheart, " Sally come up," in the kitchen. Mr. Hammi)l—Was there any scenery and dresses ? Witness—There was, sir. The act drop Nras an o Italian sketch," The margin of fair Zurich's waters, I believe. Then were shrubs and other scenes. The defendants were rouged and the old gentleman was wrinkled. Black I{alph had big boots and pistols—in fact, it was all quite regular as a theatrical performance, with the exception of the " Death of Nelson," which was in private clothes. The place was full, and the door locked. Inspector Constable—There is not any even for singing. The owner was not found. The place is the resort of thieves. The defendants, who expressed their ignorance of the law in woe-begone tones, promised never to offend again, and Mr. Hammill having remarked that he would certainly put a stop to all such places that were brought under his notice, as they were calculated to effect irremediable mischief with the youth of both Sexes, allowed the defendants ultimately to depart on entering into their recognisances to keep the peace for the next three months ; at the same time making favourable mention of Sergeant Cleary, whose apt sketch and immobile countenance during it rendered all attempts to preserve gravity totally impossible. COUNTRY MAI?KETE. LIVERPOOL-DEC. 24. Operations in the corn trade are usually contracted at this holiday season. Prices, however, are firm. It is pro bable that the second or third market day in the coming year will impart some animation to business. €AMBRIDGE—DEc. 24. At to-day's market g moderate business was transacted for wheat and flour of the best qualities; inferior descrip tions were fully maintained. Flour dull, with the turn in favour of the buyer. Oats and peas nominally unaltered. Wheat, white 43s to 46s Beans, Mazagan..—s to —s I red 38s to 40s Middle & small 40s to 46s Barley 26s to 30s White peas 4os to 4'fs I Oats 26s to 28s Grey —s to —3 CHELMSFO RII—DEc. 24. We have to report a liben and prices ruled about the sar little doing in the trade. D were taken in retail, at previo at about late rates. al supply of grain at market, me as last week, but there was ;arley rather improved. Oats >us rates. Beans were scarce, Wheat, white. 7 ..34s to 47s Peas, Partridge 44s to 46s White 41s to 43s Boiling 42s to 48s Dun 44s to 46s Beans, Tick 3Bs to 40s Harrow Ticks 38s to 42s Mazagan 36s to 39s red 30s to 448 Barley 34s to 418 Chevalier 37s to 45s Grinding 27s to 33s Malt 70s to 73s Chevalier 72s to 73s Oats 25s to 35s STAAIFORD-DEC. 24 There was a tolerable supply of grain at market. Sales were fair, and prices at about late rates. Wheat . .38s to 40s Oats.. 26s to , 303 I White do 43s to 45s Beans, new 40s to 433 Barley 38s to 42s I Ditto, old .46s to 47s YORK—DEc. 24. To-day the shov of wheat was very good, and the sales made were at is to 2s advance oil last weeles prices. A moderate show of barley, fine malting parcels is dearer, in inferior sorts little doing. In oats no change. Beall' scarce and dear. White wheat, new, 371 to 42s Barley, grinding.. 28s to 32s Red do. 4OB to 42s Oats, old, ---8 to —s Old white 3Bs to 42s New do 20s to - -- ' 3 Red do.. Ms to 39s Beans.. 44s to 48 i Barley, malting— .26s to 42§ .halt.. —s to --3 [ADVERTISEMENT.] — HoIIoway's Pills.—Pure As.this vital fluid, when in a healthy state, sustains and re novates every part of the living system ; but, when it be comes impoverished or imp ure exer t s a p reci sely contrary effect, it is abundantly manifest that any medicine which does not reach the circulation can ever exterminate disease. But anx.preparatiop, capable of exercising a sanatory influ ence over the blood, must with it be carried to every living fibre of the frame. The lungs, heart, liver, kidneys, and akitt, all receive benefit fromi its more wholesome con dition. Holloway's purifying pills operate directly, power fully, and beneficially upon the whole mass of blood, whether venous or arterial. They strengthen the stomach, excite the liver and kidneys, expel disease, and prolong existence. BIRTHS. ABDY.—On the 24th inst., at Hornsey, Middlesex, the wifo of J. T. Abdy, Esq., LL.D., of a daughter. CHATER.—On the 23d inst., at 8, Montague-place, Russell square, Mrs. Henry Cheer, of a son. GRANT.—On the 2 Ist inst., at Leamington, Mrs. John Grant, of a daughter. TILLEY.—On the 22d inst., at 1, Darling-place, Higher Broughton, Manchester, the wife of Thomas Tilley, of a daughter. MARRIAGES. JEFFERSON — RoTHNEY.-:-On the 23d inst., at AbnaY Chapel, Stoke Newington, Ebenezer Walker Jefferson, to Elizabeth Martha, the second daughter of Alexande r Rothney, Esq., of Stoke Newington. POWLES—EvERY-CLATToN.—Qn the 21st inst., at Ear rowford Church, Lancashire, Alfred Ward Powles, Esq., ' of Liverpool, to Caroline Mary, third daughter of Lieut.- Colonel Every-Clayton, of Carr-hall, Lancashire, ana granddaughtbr of the late Sir Henry Every, of Egging ton, Derbyshire. DEATHS. BROOKS.—On the 22d inst., John Thomas Brooks, Esq•) of Flitwick Manor House, in the county of Bedford, aged 65. OKELL.—On the 23d inst., at Birkdale Park, Southport, Lancashire, Mr. P. Okell, aged 56. SIMPSON.—On the 23d inst., at Mitcham, Emily, 'wife of William Simpson, Esq., aged 76. SINGER.----On the 20th inst., suddenly, at his residence, 2, Manor-place, Wandsworth-road, S. W. Singer, Esq ., of Micklehank, Surrey, aged 75. , SOWTON.—On the 24th inst., suddenly, of heart disease, James Sowton, Esq., 6, Great James-street, Bedford row, aged 70. SULLIVAN.—On the 20th inst., at Brighton, G. J. Sulli van, Esq., late Captain in the Royal Horse Guards Blue. WHITE.—On the 24th inst Henrietta, wife of J. B.Whi te, Esq., of Belgrave-place, Blackheath, aged 73. LONDON : Printed and Published by MURDO YOUNG of No. 112, Strand, Printer, at The Sun Office, No. 112, Strand, in the Precinct of the Savoy, in the county Middlesex, Monday, recunber 27, 1868. that teade; a - Histo artiste: Nude Nana, 'enmni N. 8.. koorns H' CFA The A Co 'Treat entire Intro t h i ng the `1 onde - -and ea c h p ( Pit, 1 'rate B, Seats Two P•tn, Tx Gent. _ b lodati ..aebts ; modern ga;4-e 27t1i: (O( Soups for Efe ;, Sauces, Insti Sterlin -This ( 11' 0 %01 Li p! r j Ti ordina l IsrOttNs A`ii Myrna I kulatio Annt tering For oodet, Alfred henry Th e itt ROM t'dwar Thoin E Sir Al Bart iphn I klenry NYSI SulicE I B T tilr lion s ) Stalls, Ticket Cram e Clarke 0" AI)EL • NIN TLreca ever, Corned Eb ony ery, gd D' tnark e LEc inter e , SIOL( TY, Sopft Atitho: A ll BOLA to Poll , In the ey Of z ra , Will hi The Assi ttei pai Pro! cation ......._ TE Astv4 ot Ne Ne Er D 3 timc food on t but the the