The Sun. — London, England, 1865-09-07 00:00:00

Meeting of ,ssociation. BIRMINGHAM, Sept. 6. The woceedings in connexion with this meeting of the Association commenced to-day. The President arrived in town this morning, and is the guest of the mayor at Metchley Grange. A meeting of the general committees was held at 1 o'clock at the Midland Institute, Sir Chas. Lyell in the chair. Among thosepresent were Sir R. Murchi son, Sir H. Rawliuson, Lord Stanley, Sir J. Bowring, Mr. Crawfurd, Professor Phillips, Dr. Lee, Mr. J. P. Gassiott, Sir E. Belcher, Dr. Hunt, &c. A great deal of routine business, such as the read ing of financial and other reports, and the appoint ment of vice-presidents and secretaries of sections, was transacted. The receipts of the association for the past year £3,831, and the expenditure leaves an available balance of s £7s9 in the hands of the treasurer. After the formal proceedings concluded, a length ened discussion took place on the motion of Dr. Hunt, and seconded by Sir E. Belcher, to the effect that a separate section be formed, entitled H, to be devoted solely to the subject of Anthropology. Sir RODERICK MURCHISON strongly opposed the proposition, on the ground that a further multiplica tion of the sections would render the association un workable. Similar claims might be put in on behalf of the votaries of other special branches of science, and at present there were few towns that could pro vide accommodation even for their present number of simultaneous meetings. He recommended the An thropologists to follow the precedent of the Royal Agricultural Society and found a separate association for the cultivation of their favourite science. Dr. Hunt's motion was ultimately negatived, as were also two others having a similar object. The first general meeting was held in the Town hall this evening. The doors were opened at 7 o'clock, and the spacious building was speedily filled. Pro fessor Phillips entered the hall accompanied by the mayor and other gentlemen, at a few minutes before 8, and was well received. The PRESIDENT immediately rose and delivered an inaugural address, of which the following is a summary :—Assembled for the third time in this busy centre of industrious England, amid the roar of engines and the clang of hammers, where the strongest powers of nature are trained to work in the fairy chains of art, how softly falls upon the ear the accent of science, the friend of that art, and the guide of that industry Here, where Priestly analysed the air, and Watt obtained the mastery over steam, it well became the student of nature to gather round the standard which they carried so far into the fields of knowledge. And when, on other occasions, we meet in quiet colleges and academic halls, how gladly welcome is the union of fresh dis coveries and new inventions with the solid and vener able truths which are there treasured and taught ! Long may such union last—the fair alliance of cultivated thought and practical skill ; for by it labour is dignified and science fertilised, and the condition of human society exalted. Through this happy union of science and art, the young life of the British Association—one-third of a century— has been illustrated by discoveries and enriched by useful inventions in a degree never surpassed. Life in every form, of every grade, in every stage ; man in every clime and under all conditions ; the life that now surrounds us, and that which has passed away, these subjects of high contemplation have been examined often, if not always in the spirit of that philosophy which is slowly raising, on a broad security of observed facts, sure inductions, and re peated experiments, the steady columns of the temple of physical truth. Few great branches of the study of of nature on which modern philosophy is intent were left unconsidered in the schools of Athens ; hardly one of them was, or, indeed, could be made the subject of accurate experiment. The precious instruments of exact research— the measures of time, and space, and force, and motion—are of very modern date. having proceeded at some length to refer to the astronomical discoveries of modern times, he observed :—To our country men, in particular, belongs the honour of suc cessful experiments on . the rose-coloured flames which extend from certain points of the sun's border during an eclipse, as well as of valuable contribu tions through the same agency to that enlarged survey of the physical aspect of the moon which, since 1832, the association has striven to promote. By another application of the same beautiful art, in connexion with clockwork, the momentary changes of magnetic force and direction, the variations of temperature, the firittuat ions of a t mosph eric pressure, the force of the wind, the fall of rain, the proportion of ozone in the air are registered in our observatories, and thus the inventions of Ronalds and his successors have engaged the solar rays in measuring and com paring contemporaneous phenomena of the same order over large parts of the globe--phenomena some of which are occasioned by those very rays. As we ascend above the earth, heat, moisture, and mag netic force decrease, the velocity of wind augments, and the proportion of oxygen and nitrogen remains the same. The decrease of heat as we rise into the air is no new subject of inquiry, nor have the views respecting it been very limited or very accordant. Leslie considered it mathematically in relation to pressure ; Humboldt gave the result of a large in quiry at points on the earth's surface unequally ele vated above the sea : and finally, Mr. Glaisher and Mr. Coxwell, during many balloon ascents to the zones of life-destroying cold, far above our mountain tops, have obtained innumerable data, in all seasons of the year, through a vast range of vertical height. The result is to show much more rapid decrease near the earth, much slower decrease at great elevations; thus agreeing in general with the view of Leslie, and yet throwing no discredit on the determinations of Humboldt, which do not refer to the free atmo spherid ocean, but to the _mere borders of it where it touches the earth and is influenced thereby. Re searches of every kind have so enriched meteorology since our early friend, Professor J. Forbes, printed his suggestive reports on that subject, and so great have been the benefits conferred on it by the electric telegraph, that at this moment, in M. Leverrier's observatory at Paris, and the office solately presided over by Admiral Fitzroy in London, the messages are arriving from all parts of Europe to declare the present weather, and furnish grounds for reasonable expectation of the next probable change. Hardly now within the seas of-Europe can a cyclone begin its career of devastation before the warning signal is raised in our sea-ports, to restrain the too confident sailor. The gentle spirit which _employed this k now l e d ge i n the cause of humanity has Passed away, leaving an example of unselfish devotion in a work which must not fail through any lack of energy on the part of this Association the , Royal Soci ety, or the Government. We must extend these researches and enlarge these benefits by the aid of the telegraph brin • iron o d f world together. Soon may that gl t n i g the ends of the of commu nication unite the two great sections the Anglo- Saxon race, and bring and return through the broad Atlantic the happy and mutual congratulations for peace restored and friendship renewed, After some observations on crystals the President pro ceeded :—The greater our progress in the study of the economy of nature the more she unveils herself as one vast whole ; one comprehensive plan ; One universal rule, in a yet unexhausted series of individual peculiarities. Such is the aspect of this moving, working, living system of force and law ; such it has ever been, if we rightly interpret the history of our own portion of this rich inheritance of mind, the history of that earth from which we spring, with which so many of our thoughts are co=ordinated, andto which all but our thoughts and hopes will again return. How should we prize this history ! and exult in the thought that in our own days, within our ()Am memories, the very founda tions of the series of strata, deposited in the begin ning of time, have been explored by our living friends, our Murchison and Sedgwick, while the higher and more complicated parts of the structure have been minutely examined by our Lyell, Forbes, and Prestwich. How instructive the history of that long series of inhabitants which re ceived in primeval times the gift of life, and filled the land, sea, and air with rejoicing myriads, through innumerable revolutions of the planet, before in the fulness of time it pleased the Giver of all good to place man upon the earth and bid him look up to heaven. Wave suc ceeding "wave, the forms of ancient life sweep across the ever-changing surface of the earth, revealing to us the height of the land, the depth of the sea, the quality of the air, the course of the rivers, the extent of the forest, the system of life and death —yes, the growth, decay, and death of individuals, the beginning and ending of races, of many successive races of plants and animals, in seas now dried, on sand-banks now raised into mountains, on continents now sunk beneath the waters. Had that series a beginning ? Was the earth ever uninhabited, after it became a globe turning on its axis and revolving round the sun ? Was there ever a period since land and sea were separated--a period which we can trace—when the land was not shaded by plants, the ocean not alive with animals ? The answer, as it comes to us from the latest observation, declares that in the lowest deposits of the most ancient seas in the stratified crust of the globe, the monuments of life remain. They extend to the earliest sediments of water, now in part so changed as to appear like the products of fire. What life ? Only the simpler and less specially organised fabrics have as yet rewarded research among these old Laurentian rocks—only the aggre gated structures of foraminifera have been found in what, for the present at least, must be accepted as the first deposits of the oldest sea. The most ancient of all known fossils, the Eozoon Canadense of Sir W. Logan, is of this low, we may say lowest, type of animal organisation. Then step by step we are guided through the old Cambrian and Silurian sys tems rich in trilobites and brachiopoda, the delights of Salter and Davidson ; with Agassiz and Miller and Egerton we read the history of the strange old fished of the Devonian rocks ; Brongniart and Gop pert and Dawson and Binney and Hooker unveil the mystery of the mighty forests now converted to coal ; Mantell and Owen and Huxley restore for us the giant reptiles of the Has, the oolite, and the wealden ; Edwards and Wright almost revive the beauteous corals and echinodermata; which with all the preceding tribes have come and gone before the dawn of the later periods, when fragments of mam moths and hippopotami were buried in caves and river sediments to reward the researches of Cuvier and Buckland, Prestwich and Christy, Lartet and Falconer. And what is the latest term in this long series of successive existence ? Surely the monu ments of ever advancing art—the temples whose origin is in caverns of the rocks ; the cities which hive taken the place of holes in the ground, or heaps of stones and timber in a lake ; the ships which have outgrown the canoe, as that was modelled from the floating trunk of a tree, are sufficient proof of the late arrival of man upon the earth, after it had un dergone many changes and had become adapted to his physical, intellectual, and moral nature. Com pared with the periods which elapsed in the accom plishment of these changes, how short is the date of those yet standing monoliths, cromlechs, and circles of unhewn stone which are the oldest of human structures raised in Western Europe, or of those more regular fabrics which attest the early impor tance of the monarchs and people of Egypt, Assy ria, and some parts of America. Yet tried by monu ments of natural events which happened within the age of man, the human family is old enough in Western Europe to have been sheltered by caverns in the rocks, while herds of reindeer roamed in Southern France, and bears and hyaenas were deni zens of the South of England. More than this, re mains of the rudest human art ever seen are cer tainly found buried with and are thought to belong to races who lived contemporaneously with the mammoth and rhinoceros, and experienced the cold of a Gallic or British winter, from which the woolly covering of the wild animals was a fitting protec tion. Our own annals begin with the Felts, if, indeed, we are entitled to call by that historic name the really two separate nations—Belgian, Iberian, and Teutonic—whom the Roman writers re cognise as settlers in Britain, settlers among a really earlier family, our rudest and oldest forefathers, who may have been, as they thought themselves to be, the primitive people of the land. But beyond the KEXrai, who occupied the sources of the Danube and the slopes of the Pyrenees, and were known to Rome in later days, there was pre sent to the mind of the father of Grecian his tory a still more western race, the Cyneffe, who may, perhaps, be supposed the very earliest people of the extreme west of the continent of Europe. Were those the people, the first poor pilgrims from the East, whose foot steps we are slowly tracing in the valleys of Picardy and the south of England, if not on the borders of the lakes of Switzerland ? Are their kindred st;' to be found among the Rhmtic Alps and the Astu rian cliffs, if not amid the wilds of Connemara, pressed into those mountainous recesses by the legions of Rome, the spear of the Visigoth, and the sword of the Saxon ? Or must we regard them as races of an earlier type, who had ceased to chip flints before the arrival of Saxon or Goth, or Kelt or Cynetian? These questions of romantic interest in the study of the distribution and languages of the families of man are part of a large circle of inquiry which finds sympathy in several of our sections, especially those devoted to zoology, physiology, and ethnology. Let us not expect or desire for them a very quick, or, at present, a very definite settle ment. Deep shadows have gathered over all the earlier ages of mankind, which, perhaps, still longer periods of time may not avail to remove. Yet let us not undervalue the progress of ethnological in quiry, nor fail to mark how, within the period to which our recollections cling, the revelations of early Egypt have been followed by a chronology of the ancient kingdoms on the Tigris and Euphrates through the same rigorous study of language. Thus has our Rawlinson added another page to the bril liant discoveries of Young and Champollion, Lepsius and Rosellini. Nor, though obtained in a different way, must we forget the new knowledge of a people nearer home, which .the philosophic mind of Keller has opened to us among his native mountains. There, on the borders of the Alpine lakes, before the great Roman General crossed the Rhone, lived a people older than the Helvetians, whose rude lives, passed in hunting and fishing, were neverthe less marked by many of the inventions which every where, even in the most unfavourable situations, accompany ,the least civilised of mankind. Im plements of stone and pottery of the rudest sort belong to _ the earliest of these pe o pl e ; while ornamented weapons of war, and innumerable ... other fabrics in that metal, appear about the later habitations, and correspond probably to the period of the true Helvetii, who quitted their home and contended with Cesar for richer settle ments in Gaul. The people of whom these are the traces on almost every lake in Switzerland are re cognised as well as in the ancient lake basins of Lombardy and among the Tyrolean Alps, and farther on the north side of the mountains ; and probably fresh discoveries may connect them with the country of the Sarmatians and the Scythians. Thus at length is fairly opened, for archaeology and palaeontology to read, a new chapter of the world's history, which begins in the Pleistocene periods of geology and reaches to the pre-historic ages of man. Did our ancestors really contend, as the poets fancied, with stones and clubs against the lion and the rhinoceros, and thus expel them from their native haunts, or have they been removed by ch ange of climat e or local physical conditions ? W as th e existence o f the hyena Europeand the element only pos siblewiAle a cli ma t e preva i led in W es t ern there such as n ow b elon was this period of hi gh tem later time for the elk, rei n d eer, and ~.s t o A frica or India? And , perature reduc e d i n a musk ox which undoubtedly roamed over the hills of Ent-land and France ? If we think so, what a vista of long dura tion stretches before us, for no such Changes of climate can be supposed to have occurred except as the effect of great physical changes, requiring a lapse of many thousands of years ! And, though we may think such changes of climate not proved, and probably careful weighing of evidence may jus tify our disbelief, still, if the valleys in Picardy have been excavated since the deposit of the gravel of St. Acheul, and the whole face of the country has been altered about the caverns of Torquay since they received remains of animals and traces of man— how can we admit these facts and yet refuse the time required for their accomplishment ? First, let 119 be sure of the facts, and especially of that main fact upon which all the argument involving im mensity of time really turns—viz., the contempo raneous existence of man with the mammoth of rHE SUN, LONDON, THURSDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 7, 1865. the plains and the bear of the caverns. The re mains of men are certainly buried with those of extinct quadrupeds ; but did they live in the same days, or do we see relics of different periods gathered into one locality by natural processes of a later date, or confused by the operations of men ? Before replying finally to these questions, further researches of an exact kind are desirable, and the association has given its aid towards them, both in respect to the old cavern of Kent's Hole and the newly opened fissure of Gibraltar, from which we expect great results, though the best of our labourers has ceased from •his honourable toil: When these and many other researches are com pleted, some future Lyell, if not our own great geo logist, may add some fresh chapters to the " An tiquity of Man." In judging of this antiquity, in counting the centuries which may have elapsed since smoothed flints fitted with handles of wood were used as chisels and axes by the earliest people of Scandinavia or Helvetia, and flakes of flint were employed to cleanse the skins of the reindeer in the caves of -the Dordogne, or stronger tools broke up the ice in the valley of the Somme, we must be care ful not to take what is the mark of low civilisation for the indication of very remote time. In every country, among every race of men, such rude wea pons are used now, or were used formerly. On the banks of the Ohio, no less than on the English hills, mounds of earth, rude pottery, and stone weapons occur in abundance, and indicate similar wants, contrivances, customs, ideas, in different races of men living in different periods. Even when in the same country, as in Switzerland, or England, or Denmark, successive deposits of instruments of stone, bronze, or iron ; successive burials of pines, beeches, and oaks ; successively extinguished races of elephants, elks, and reindeer give us a real scale of elapsed time, it is one of which the divisions are not yet valued in years or centuries of years. To ward a right judgment of the length of this scale of human occupation two other lines of evidence may be thought worthy of notice ; one founded on the anatomical study of the remains of early men, the other on the laws of language. If the varieties of physical structure in man, and the deviations of language from an original type, be natural effects of time and circumstance, the length of time may be in some degree estimated by the amount of the diversities which are observed to have happened, compared with the variation which is now known to be happening. This process becomes imaginary, unless we assume all mankind to have had one local centre, and one original lan guage. Its results must be erroneous, unless we take fully into account the superior fixity of lan guages which are represented in writing and the greater tendency to diversity of every kind which must have prevailed in early times, when geographi cal impediments were aggravated by dissocial habits of life. It appears, however, certain that some dif ferences of language, organisation, and habits have separated men of apparently unlike races during periods longer than those which rest on historical facts. Ever since the days of Aristotle the analogy existing among all parts of the animal kingdom, and in a general sense we may say among all the forms of life, has become more and more the subject of special study. Related as all living beings are to the element in which they move and breathe, to the me chanical energies of nature which they employ or re sist, and to the molecular forces which penetrate and transform them, some general conformity of struc ture, some frequentlyrecurring resemblance of func tion must be present, and cannot be overlooked. In the several classes this analogy grows stronger, and in the subdivisions of these classes real family affinity is recognised. In the smallest divisions;which have this family relation in the highest degree, there seem to'be a line which circumscribes each group, within which variations occur, from food, exercise, climate, and transmitted peculiarities. Often one specific group approaches another, or several others, and a question arises whether, though now distinct, or rather distinguishable, they always have been so from their beginning, or will be always so until their disappearance. Whether what we call species arc so many original creations or derivations from a few types or one type is discussed at length in the ele gant treatise of Darwin, himself a naturalist of emi nent rank. It had been often discussed before. Nor will any one think lightly of such inquiries who rembers the essay of Linnaeus, "De Telluris orbis incremento," or the investigations of Brown, Pritchard, Forbes, Agassiz,, and Hooker regard ing the local origin of different species, genera, and families of plants and animals, both on the land and in the sea. Still less will he be disposed to undervalue its importance, when he reflects on the many successive races of living forms more or less resembling our existing quadrupeds, reptiles, fishes, and mollusca which appear to have occupied definite and different parts of the depths of ancient time ; as now the tiger and the jaguar, the cayman and the gavial„ live on different parts of the terrestrial surface. Is the living Elephant of Ceylon the lineal descendant of that mammoth which roamed over Siberia, and Europe, and North America, or of one of those sub-Himalayan tribes which Dr. Falconer has made known, or was it a species only in circum polar regions ? Can our domestic cattle, horses and dogs, our beasts of chase and our beasts of prey, be traced back to their source in older types, contem poraries of the urus, megaceros, and hyaena on the plains' of Europe ? If so, what range of variation in 'structure does it indicate ? 'lf not so, by what characters are the living races separated from those of earlier date ? Specific questions of this kind must be answered before the general proposition that the forms of life are indefinitely variable with time and circumstance can even be examined by the light of adequate evidence. That such evidence will be gathered and rightly interpreted I, for one, neither doubt nor fear. Having stated some of the more important subjects considered by the association, and the recommendations made by it:in the cause of science, the President concluded his address in these terms :—When more than 30 years ago, this Parlia ment of Science came into being, its first child-lan- guage was employed to ask questions of nature ; now, in riper years, it founds on the answers re ceived further and more definite inquiries directed to the same prolific source of useful knowledge. Of researches in science completed, in progress, or in beginning, each of ourannual volumes contains some _ _ 300 or more passing notices, or full and permanent records. This digest and monument of our labour is, indeed, in some respects incomplete, since it does not always contain: the narrative or the result of undertakings which we started, or fostered, or sustained ; and I own to having experienced on this account once or twice a feeling of regret. But the regret was soon lost in the gratification of knowing that other and equally beneficial channels of publication had been found ; and that by these examples it was proved how truly the association kept to the real purpose of its foun dation, " the advancement of science," and how heartily it rejoiced in this advancement without looking too closely to its own share in the triumph. Here, indeed, is the stronghold of the British Asso ciation. Wherever and by whatever means sound learning and useful knowledge are advanced there to us are friends. Whatever is privileged to step beyond his fellows on the road of scientific dis- covery will receive our applause, and, if need be, our help. Welcoming and joining in the labour of all, we shall keep our place among those who clear the roads and remove the obstacles from the paths of science ; and whatever be our own success in the rich fields which lie before us, however little we may now know, we shall prove that in this our day we knew at least the value of knowledge, and joined hearts and hands in the endeavour to promote it. The address was listened to with much attention and frequently applauded. At its close a vote of thanks was moved by Sir 11. Murchison, seconded by the Mayor, and carried by acclamation. To-morrow the general business of the sections will commence. On Saturday there are to be excursions to Warwick and Stratford ; to Coventry and Kenilworth ; to Worcester and Malvern ; and a Severn Valley excursion in four sections—namely, Wroxeter, Shrewsbury, and Buildwas Abbey ; the Wrekin ; Wenlock, &c. ; Coalbrookdale, &c. At this latter place the four sections are to meet and take lunch with Mr. Maw, at Buildwas Abbey. On Thursday, Sept. 14, there is to be an excursion to Dudley, and through the South Staffordshire iron district, and to Cannock Chase. All the principal works are to be thrown open, and the Dudley caverns illuminated by Lord Dudley. On the same day there is to be an excursion to Lichfield and the Burton breweries. Opening of the Birmingham Free Library. BIRMINGHAM, Wednesday. To-day at noon the Central Reference Free Library, in connection with the free libraries established in different parts of this borough under the provisions of Mr. Ewart's Act, was formally opened by the Mayor (Mr. H. Wiggin), in the presence of a very distinguished company, composed of many gentlemen now on a visit to this town in connec tion with the British Association. At 10 o'clock the Mayor entertained about 250 gentle men at breakfast, at the Royal Hotel. Amongst the guests of his worship were Lord Lyttelton, Lord Stanley, M.P., Professor Fairbairn, &c. After breakfast the company marched in procession to the Library Building, in Ratcliff-place. The formal cere mony of opening took place in the apartment called " The Lending Library ;" on one side of this shelves have been placed, on which are arranged about 19,000 volumes selected by the Free Libraries Committee of the Corpora tion. . A prayer was offered by the Lord Bishop of Worcester ; this was followed by a few observations of a preliminary character from the Mayor, after which he called upon Lord Stanley, M.P., to address the assembly. Lord STAN - LEY, who was received with continuous ap plause, spoke as follows :—Mr. Mayor, ladies, and gentle men,—Although, comparatively speaking, I am a stranger in Birmingham—although only once before, and then only for a few days, has it been my good fortune to be your guest—although my presence here this morning is due solely to the meeting of the British Association in this town —and although as a general rule in local affairs I hold it better, on theprincipal of division of labour, that men should confine themselves to the affairs of their own neighbour hood and their own county—l have not thought it right to refuse the invitation, the courteous and flattering invitation which I received from your mayor to talfe part in the cere mony to-day. And I think so for this reason—that it is not one of a merely local character, or which derives any part of its interest or importance from the peculiar requirements of this community of Birmingham. What you have done, or rather I should say what you are doing, for when a build ing of this kind is finished its work only commences— what, I say, you are doing is that which every great town in England ought to undertake, but which comparatively few have undertaken. Now, it is hardly possible to speak of the uses of an institution such as this without repeating things which, however true they may be, and even be cause they are so obviously and so manifestly true, are almost necessarily commonplace. But looking at the matter first from an educational point of view, we find that the nation spends yearly a million or so of money, drawn from the public funds, and far more is spent which comes out of the pockets of individuals, for the pur pose of teaching children to read and write, for that is what the ordinary run of our school teaching comes to, and I wish I could think that even these results were always satisfactorily achieved. Then again, when the newspaper stamp and paper duty and some minor duties were taken off, Parliament gave up something like a million and a half of revenue, and it did so not solely but mainly under the influence of this idea—that no artificial impediment ought to stand between the people and the free circulation of literature. (Applause.) And when Parliament authorised the burgesses of any town, by the consent of two-thirds of their body, to tax themselves to a moderate amount for the establishment of free self-supporting libraries for all classes of-the people, it was done with the idea—an idea which was entertained by the townspeople of this country no less than by Parliament itself—of providing instruction for the population at large. Ido not say that that expectation has been disappointed, because since the passing of that act only a comparatively short time has elapsed, and the first lesson we must learn in public affairs is patience. But Ido say that these exPeetations have been only partially ful filled, for only Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool, Bol ton, and a few other towns—about 25 manufacturing towns in all—have availed themselves of the powers of the act. In London nothing, or next to nothing, has been done. That to my mind is not very surprising, because on account of the very magnitude of London that feeling of local pa triotism, local public spirit, cannot there exist as it exists in similar communities in the provinces. It is everybody's lodgings, and hardly anybody's home. (Laughter, and hear, hear.) So, again, in the smaller towns, I don't know that we ehould expect a great deal to be done there until those of greater magnitude and importance have set the example. Still, looking at the great prosperity of the last 10 years, looking at the general increase of wealth, and the absence of disturbing causes, I think a more happy retro spect might have been looked for. One thing is clear, that if in a large town three great libraries are to exist they can only exist by putting into force the Act of 1855. Private munificence may do much—Sir William Brown's noble gift to the town of ,Liverpool is an example, in addition to which we have only been reminded of what Mr. Adderley has done here ; still, it is too uncertain to be exclusively relied on, and it meets with too many other de mands apparently of a more pressing character. I say ap parently of a more pressing character, and yet, when ono comes to think of it, when was there ever a state of things in which rational,, reasonable amusement and occupation were more needed than in these vast industrial centres of the present time ? I do not speak of this place particularly: it applies equally to Manchester, and Liverpool, and Glas gow, and other largo towns. But take tho case of a man who lives alone in small lodgings, or of a man living with his family in a small house. I do not take an extreme case—l do not take the case of a poor man, but of one living with some degree of comfort. Well, his day's work is over, and where has he to go to ? It is not pleasant for a man to oscillate 12 times a-week—from his bedroom to his work shop in the morning, and from his workshop to his bedroom in the evening. It is not pleasant to walk about the streets of a manufacturing town, in an atmosphere which no Smoke Prevention Act can purify. (Laughter.) Cheap clubs do something; they may yet do more, and I hope we shall have a large number of them established. Still at the present time very few of these free libraries exist. There seems to be many practical difficulties in the way of their establish ment, but, as the mayor has properly reminded us, an insti tution of thiS kind is not for the exclusive benefit of the working class, or of any class, but of all classes impartially. (Applause.) I say without fear of contradiction that a free reading library, and, what is more important, a free lend ing library, are conveniences for which a real demand ex ists, and which, once thoroughly set a-foot, will never be given up for want;of support. (Hear.) There was pro bably never a larger number of educated persons of compa ratively small means than at present, and the gain to general enjoyment by those free libraries is not insignificant; and when I say general enjoyment, I may say general mo rality also ; for all of you understand how much immora lity arises from being engaged in monotonous employment without reasonable. relaxation. Real and earnest students are not very . rnany, numerically speaking, :in any rank of life; still, of such students you will have some, and it is hard to say how much labour will be spared to those men by giving them access easily and at once to such books as they require: So, again, there is another class, a rather more numerous class—l mean inventors, or would-be in ventors. By being always able to refer to . works on patents, they may be saved from that fate which to my knowledge has not unfrequently befallen men of genius— that of inventing things which had been invented before. They would then not suffer from the disappointment of finding that their inventions were perfectly familiar already. But these classes are numerically small com pared to the total population ; and the real question is does this building give a fair return to the burgesses for the money and labour expended on it ? lam con fident that it does fully, and the best proof that I can give is that, looking into the report of 1864, I find it stated that' of all similar libraries up to that time, that of Birminghamhad circulated the largest number of volumes. 350,000 volumes represented the circulation of one year ; that is really a thousand a day. I understand from what the mayor stated just now that that number has been con- siderably increased during the current year, and I venture to say that that circulation represents an amount of useful and harmless enjoyment such as would not probably be at- tained in any other way by the expenditure of a similar sum of money. (Hear.) Now I have only one word or two more to say : I hope your lending library will be extended and carried on on a great scale. I have greater faith in the prac tical utility of this than almost any other scheme. Thoro are many who, for various reasons, are not likely to fre- quent a reading-room of this kind; some think their clothes are not good enough ; some live too far off ; others do not like to come into a crowded hall. Ido not know what led to these reasons, but still they will operate on a certain number of people. Then, againAhowever largely used, its space is limited, whereas:there is no limitation to the circulation of books when those books are given out to them to be read at home. I do not know whether it is pos siblo, but I think it would be very desirable that works should be lent, not merely to individuals, but to such clubs and associations as are willing to use them—security of course being given for their proper treatment. (Applause.) lam now coming to the last word. I don't think we ought to be annoyed or disappointed if it turns out here, as it has in other places, that the largest demand is a demand for works of fiction. (Applause.) Of course one would regret it if the demand were confined exclusively to such works, and of course everybody sympathises in the wish of the Mayor that you may have in one of the rooms a really valuable collection of standard works, such as may not be unworthy of one of the greatest English towns. But if it should turn out that the most popular works for general circulation aro works of fiction, Ido not think that is any reason for dis appointment. I never understood why it is so very much the practice of educated men, who themselves enjoy a good novel as much as anybody, to disparage its popularity. I never understood that as a rule men of the educated class, after a hard day's work, were much in the habit of pursuing some difficult historical question or abstruse mathematical problem. (Laughter.) There are some whose love of know ledge and science is genuine and sincere—and these should be provided for by all means—but do notte ashamed, do not-suppose you are descending too much to the Vveakness of humanity by providing for those who look for an inno cent and not wholly useress enjoyment. (Applause.) Of all kinds of literature, I take it that works of fiction are those among which the greatest and most marked improvement has taken place, and in their way they may be as useful as works of a higher character. Well, then, do not let us grudge amusement to those who go there solely for that purpose ; let us be satisfied if it is harmless, and harmless in 999 cases out of a thousand we may be assured it will be. Life to many is a somewhat tame and dull affair, and with our English climate and character we are all the better for every little bit of sunshine, moral or mate rial, that we can get. (Applause.) I have now said all that I have to say, and it only remains for me to congratu late you on this great undertaking, to congratulate you on the ample accommodation and noble appearance of this building, and I hope the Birmingham Free Library may continue as successfully as it has begun. (Applause.) The meeting was subsequently addressed by the Rev. Dr. Millar, Mr. George Dawson, and other gentlemen, and the Mayor having declared amidst hearty cheers the "Central Reference Free Library open to the public of Bir mingham for ever," the proceedings terminated. Romantic Elopement of a Young Lady with Her Groom. At the Wandsworth Police-court, yesterday, Geo. Smith, aged 18 years, of short stature, who had a very boyish ap pearance, was placed in the dock before Mr. Ingham, charged with the abduction of a young lady named Crosse, and also with robbery, under the following circumstances : The Rev'.3llobert Crosse, rector of Oakham, said his daughter's name was Alice Caroline, and she was 20 years of age in June last. She had been living with him until the night, or strictly speaking the morning of the 26th ult. He missed her from the house. He knew the prisoner. He had been groom and general servant in his house. He had sent him away on the Thursday previously. Witness re cognised a box and articles in prisoner's possession when arrested as belonging to his daughter. Mr. Ingham inquired whether any property was found but what was expressly purchased for his daughter. The witness said that some of the articles were not purchased for his daughter. Some of them belonged to her mother. Mr. Ingham said he would pass off from that part of the case, as it was not necessary to go into the one of robbery at present. The witness was then questioned with reference to pro perty vested in his daughter. He said that on her coming of age she would be entitled to a moiety of about £2,600, also to further prospects on the death of her mother and himself. Me. Ingham inquired whether he could swear that the prisoner was aware of it. The witness said he had no proof of the fact, but he had reason to believe he was aware of it, because his daughter was in the habit of speaking about her prospects. Mrs. Jane Wiggins, the wife of a labourer, of St. Ann's place, said that on last Saturday week the prisoner came to her house with his wife, as she thought. They both spoke about the lodgings. She asked them whether they were man and wife, as they looked so young—more like brother and sister. He said, "Oh, yes ; we are man and wife." They took the lodgings for a week, but they remained beyond that time. Witness could see that the was a perfect lady, but they conducted themselves with propriety. They looked at the bedroom together. The female made agreement and paid the witness rent. Mr. Ingham having expressed a desire to examine the young lady, Inspector Lovelace brought her upstairs into the court and placed her in the witness-box. Her appear ance excited great interest amongst the persons in the court. She is a slight, lady-like young woman, having a girlish appearance, and was very simple but genteelly at tired in a small black straw hat, black silk cape, and a spotted muslin dress. She did not exhibit any symptoms of nervousness, and kept her gaze frequently upon the pri soner. On being sworn she stated that she had been living with her father until recently. Mr. A. Taylor (the chief clerk)—Now explain how you came to leave your father's house. Witness (smiling)—l don't know. I left to be married to Smith. He was nearly two years in my father's service. The intimacy between the prisoner and myself commenced about Christmas—a little before perhaps. Mr. Ingham--How did the intimacy first commence ? Witness—By riding with him. I went out riding, and ho accompanied me as groom. Mr. Ingham—Who made the first advance? Witness—l don't know exactly. Mr. Ingham—You can tell me that. Witness (smiling)—l think we were almost equal. Mr. Ingham —Did you over go into the stable ? Witness—Oh yes, I have often gone into the stable to see the horses cleaned. Mr. Ingham—Who first proposed that you should leave the house ? Witness—l think I proposed that. There had been a great row, and I was unhappy, and I wished to leave. There was a great row when it was found out, about a week before I went away. Mr. Ingham—Now tell me all about it.. Witness—l arranged it. He was sent away at a minute's notice. I saw him in the passage when he was leaving, and I merely told him to come the night after to my bedroom window. I used to light paper in the window. Mr. Ingham—What happened on the night in question? Did you light paper ? Witness—Yes; directly after papa went to bed. The Rev. Mr. Crosse (explaining)—l went to bed about 12 o'clock. Witness—l lit papers in the window, and he came up outside. I think ho was in the lane. I told him I should go away. I put my things out of the window, and then I got out myself. 1 scrambled out somehow, as I had no as sistance. I think he helped me a little when I got nearly down. I think I was slipping down, and he held me. Nothing further took place, you know, except that we walked together to the station. I did not know where I was going, but I thought I was going to London. I pro posed walking to Weybridge station. It is a distance of about five miles and a half along the road. We walked there together. We took a mail train to London, and I paid the fare. I don't know who paid for it, as our money was put together. I had about £2, and he had £5 2s. The money was put together at Weybridge. I took the money. We went to Waterloo station, from thence to a coffeehouse in the City, where we had some coffee. We went to Doctors'-commons for a license of marriage. He applied for it. We could not have it without my father's consent. I did not hear what was said, as I was not present. Ho told me that afterwards. We came straight to Wands worth. I proposed Wandsworth, as I thought it would be more convenient. I had often been through Wandsworth. We took lodgings at Mrs. Wiggins' from seeing a card in her window. I know what fortune lam entitled to. I never talked much about it. Since I have been at Wands worth I said I should have it in the summer. I had heard that there was a probability of my having money on my father's death; but I knew I should not if I mar ried George. I might have said I should not have any thing at my father's death. lam not the only child. I have a sister. My father is in good circumstances, ho keeps two horses and carriage. I suppose my father is a rich man, not very rich. I don't know whether the prisoner knew what my father had. I suppose he thought my father was in good circumstances. I never talked to him about my sister. It was my own act and deed that of leaving my father's house. The prisoner does not detain me. I prefer to have his society. It was my idea the getting out of the window. Whether George was there or not I should have gone. I don't know whether I should have left that even ing if he had not been there. I had made up my mind to leave at the earliest opportunity, and I should have left if George had died. After I was out of the window I told him I wished him to accompany me. It was my own sug gestion that we went up to London. He might have paid the fare, as I don't remember. He did not entice me to go away. When I got out of the window he asked me if I had not better stay. I said I would rather not. He asked a policeman about Doctors'-commons. I did not know much about it. I proposed asking a policeman, and we got the information from one. The prisoner went inside and I waited outside. Mr. Ingham said it was, a question of law whether a person under 21 could give consent. At present he thought it was a case to be decided elsewhere. The question was whether she had been fraudulently taken away. There was no allurement, and there was no detention, but the prisoner assisted her to go away. He took her away, especially if he paid the fare, and he (Mr. Ingham) should like to hear the evidence on that point. The young lady, in answer to further questions, said the prisoner was going to work for his brother, a farmer. Nothing was said about that until they came to Wands-- worth. They talked about how they should live in the country, and he said he could work for his brother. She proposed that they should buy a business with the money she would have. Ile asked her not to touch the money. Mr. Ingham then remanded the prisoner, but consented to accept two sureties in £lOO each for his appearance. The young lady retired with her friends, and the prisoner was removed to the cells. The bail, two tradesmen of Wandsworth, were, however, soon forthcoming, and he was led away by them in a half fainting and hysterical condition. It was stated that the banns of marriage between the prisoner and his late young mistress had been published in Wandsworth Church. FUMIGATING TRAVELLERS.—In consequence of an order from the prefect of the Alpes-Maritimes, sug gested by the sanitary council and the mayor of Nice, tra vellers arriving in that town from Marseilles are sub jected to a disinfecting fumigation in a room at the station prepared for that purpose. [ADVERT ISEMENT.]—IfoIIoway's Pills.—Confidential Ad vico.—To all persons who suffer. from bilious headaches. disordered stomach, biliousness, or flatulency, these Pill s are most strongly recommended as the safest and quickest mode, of obtaining ease without irritating or weakening the nervous system. Holloway's Pills are especially useful in clearing away any excess of bile which usually produce fever, unless remedial measures be adopted without delay. In asthma, bronchitis, and congestion of the lungs they may be relied upon for removing all danger, and by Purifying and regulating the circulation they effectually prelient relapses. By - rousing the liver to a fair secretion of bile and quickly carrying it off from the system, these Pills ward off low spirits, listlessness, and those distressing feelings often called nervous. SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS, TIMES.—An inquiry originating in a question of public finance has incidentally revived a discussion of inexhaustible interest. It was doubted whether the endowments of charitable institutions were not liable to assessment for income-tax, and in the in vestigation of the subject reports were obtained through the Charity Commissioners respecting cer tain foundations of known wealth and importance. Among other establishments selected for this pur pose was Christ's Hospital, and in the report upon the revenues and services of this famous school it is questioned whether the proper objects of the foun dation are either pursued or attained. Christ's Hospital was founded especially for the reception of helpless orphan children, and although some devia tion from the original design would be not only allowable but inevitable, it is alleged that the diver sion of purpose actually prevailing exceeds reason able limits. On the assumption that the benefits of the charity were intended solely for the destitute, it argued that these intentions are no longer fulfilled. The school is not a school for the very poorest classes, but for classes more or less above them ; and what is more, the standard appears to be continually rising. The social position of the boys received is higher now than it was thirty years ago, and it is accordingly suggested that arrangements operating prejudicially to the interests of the poor should be carefully revised. This subject well deserves atten tion, and especially because Christ's Hospital, whe ther actually fulfilling the designs of its founders or not, does certainly fulfil them more nearly than any other public school in the kingdom. If this famous Bluecoat School be not a real charity school, there is no such thing as a charity school in the country. Christ's Hospital differs from all other public schools in this—that it is all " foundation," and nothing else. At Eton, at Winchester, at Westminster, and at Charterhouse, for instance, the foundation boys or scholars form only a certain proportion of the school, and even these privileges few rarely es cape without some charge. But at Christ's Hospital every boy is on the foundation ; they are all " Blues" from the top of the school to the bottom, and all are maintained and equipped out of the funds of the House. The number, too, of the boys thus gratuitously boarded and educated is comparatively enormous. At Eton provision is made for 70 foun dation boys only ;at Charterhouse for 40. Christ's Hospital takes upwards of I,loo—a greater number than all other public schools together. Yet the re venues of the Bluecoat School are but £60,000 a year—a princely income, no doubt, but not very much in excess of other schools doing not a tenth of similar service. The fact is there is no dead weight or " ineffective" service'.' at the Hospital. The whole establishment consists of masters who teach and boys who learn. Clearly, therefore, no exception can be taken to Christ's Hospital on these grounds, and to arrive at the grounds of complaint we must turn, not to the immediate application of the re venues of the school, but to the principles of selec tion by which the recipients of its bounty are deter mined. This part of the subject the Report will enable us to illustrate very plainly indeed. Of course, the admission to a school even of 1,200 boys must be regulated by some preference in times when 12,000 would like to be admitted if they could. Children are accordingly " nominated" or " pre sented" to Christ's Hospital by certain patrons, styled Governors, besides which admission is opened through various local or special channels. Some times the ratepayers of a parish can nominate a scholar by vote in the vestry, and send a poor boy up from his native town to the great school in New gate-street. However, without pursuing this point any further at present, we will subjoin an analysis of the presentations actually made in the three years ending with 1862. As many as 192 boys were cer tainly the children of professional men—that is, of men presumably competent to put their sons to school without assistance from charity ; but then we learn as we proceed that 60 of these boys were orphans, that in eleven instances their families were abso lutely destitute, and that the incomes of the others only averged £172 a year. There would still be 132 sons of living professional men, but here, again, we are told that the incomes of these men averaged but £244 a year. Then there were 293 presenta tions of the children of merchants, tradesmen, and clerks, 81 of whom were orphans and 24 destitute orphans, while the incomes in the case of parents still living averaged about £lBO a year. The list is completed by 16 presentations of children of jour neymen or servants, seven of persons without occu pation, and seven o f p ersons w h o h a d deserted their families. We need hardly be at the pains of remark ing, after these statistics, that Christ's Hospital is not a school for the aristocracy. Its endowments have not been perverted for the advantage of the opulent or powerful. A professional man with an income of £250 a-year, and perhaps half-a-dozen children, can hardly be thought above the need of a scholarship for one of his sons. On a broad view, indeed, of the admissions thus classified, it does not appear that any single boy could have been an unfit recipient of the charity. The proportion of orphans, it will be seen, is very large, and of these several were not only orphans, but destitute also. In fact, the objection, as we understand it, is only taken by comparison. It is said that the classes thus benefited, though certainly not rich, but rather poor, are not the poorest, and that pauper children have no share in the charity designed for them alone. Christ's Hos pital, it is confessed, is of great advantage to certain classes, but not to the right classes. Suggestions are therefore offered towards remedying the alleged evil, but, with one excepti on , we s h ould doubt the expe diency of the measures proposed. In short, we are by no means certain that the reforms recommended would render this famous foundation productive of more public good than it yields at present. It would be necessary to look closely into the incidents of the original foundation before entering on a rigorous definition of the original design, but if Christ's Hos pital was really intended for the benefit of paupers only, we may say that the diversion of its funds to their present object is no more than has been accom plished by common consent and with common ap proval in most seminaries of the kingdom. At the universities the claims of m ere poverty havein many prominentinstances been deliberately set aside, and probable proficiency has been accepted as the quali fication instead. It has been decided that no public advantage could ensue from offering a high educa tion gratuitously to those who were unlikely to profit by o it, merely because they were unable to pay for it. As far, therefore, as the mere de flection of purpose goes, Christ's Hospital has but submitted to an influence universally and almost insensibly at work. Nor do we see exactly what is the alternative kept in view by the proposal of re form. If, the benefits of the foundation are to be confined to helpless paupers, Christ's Hospital would simply be turned into an enormous ragged school. If its benefits are merely to be carried down to a lower stratum of society, the objections at present preferred would be applicable still. Supposing, for instance, as suggested, that presentations were allotted to some of the best conducted benefit socie ties or trade unions, it is not only possible but pro bable that the parents of the boys presented might still be in receipt of incomes of £lOO or £l5O a year, for many a mechanic could earn that much. And, again, if the existing system is to be denounced as favouring a certain class or classes, what would be said of a system favouring one class only—namely, the very poorest. It really appears to us that little can be said against the present uses of the founda tion, excepting on a single point. Let us admit that the hospital should be for the benefit of all. The rich classes do not want it, nor the class under them, nor the class under that. In fact; all classes of society above professional men with very small incomes do, as we have seen, dispense with any ap plication for advantage out of these endowments. The applicants begin with struggling lawyers, clergy men, or surgeons, and they go downwards through the classes intervening, even to working men and domestic servants. This is a very wide range of good ; we doubt very much indeed whether the true interest of the public would be promoted by an abrupt return to the alleged purposes of the original foundation. HERALD.—That a courteous and generous under standing should exist between the bench and the bar appears a condition so essential for the dignity of English justice that the least public failure of it is in a high degree painful. This does not imply that the judge and the advocate should necessarily be at all times in accord, because there have been occasions, and those of memorable import, when noble assertions of right have been made by inde pendent lawyers against judicial attempts at brow beating ; but there i s th e s t e p f r om the sublime to the ridiculous, which the president and pleaders of a criminal court would do wisely to avoid with all the caution at their command. It has been unpleasantly manifest, however, for several months past, that there is a hitch in the working of the Middlesex Sessions at Clerkenwell, and that two, at least, of the extra judges sitting there are in fre quent collision with one or more members of the bar. The two judges are Mr. Payne, conspicuously, and Mr. Sergeant Dowling, a little more agreeably obscure. The barristers are 11(1r. Pater, conspicu ously, and Mr. Warton, also a little more ag reea bl y obscure, considering what the cir cumstances have been. It was only a short time since that the prin cipal figures in this quartet got up n o t a t a ll a pretty quarrel, which ended in the usual forensic smoke of words, only to break forth again when the opportu nity offered. Simply to clear the ground, wo may recapitulate two or three incidents which took place on Tuesday afternoon last, when this unpleasant opportunity did again occur. Four thieves were tried before Mr. Sergeant Dowling, deputy assistant judge. They were all convicted, so that they form a very slight part of the case. Mr. Pater defended one, and Mr. Warton another. Mr. Pater, in this particular instance, held to the ordinary course of an advocate, but Mr. Warton launched into an un measured tirade against the police ; he denounced them as growing up into a most unconstitutional power ; he declared that this country was in danger of becoming police-ridden ; he told the jury that men were constantly raised from the lowest rank to wear stripes upon their arms for manufacturing prosecutions and suborning evidence. Here he was, very properly, interrupted from the bench. He had no right, said the judge, rather too rhetorically, to asperse so large and respectable a body of men as the metropolitan police, to say broadly that they were in the habit of employing boys and other per sons to get up evidence, or that they dealt in perjury ; for " if this were true then this country would be the most degraded the world has ever seen." After a picturesque interlude of " suppressed applause in court," Mr. Warton went on. He acussed Sir Richard Mayne of endeavouring to set up a despotism of setting aside acts of Parliament, and of subverting English liberty. Considering that his client was a doubly-convicted pickpocket these heroics were absurdly out of place. But this ended the forensic frolic of the day in Mr. Serjeant Dowling's court. In Mr. Payne's court Mr. Pater provoked a slight explosion in the case of a man acquitted by the jury, without the judge's summing up, of assaulting a constable at a fire. There was a loud burst of ap plause, which the judge severely reprehended. Then Mr. Pater interfered, to apologise for " the body of the court." "No doubt," he said, " they feel that this is a police prosecution." Counsel for the pro secution instantly interrupted him with a rather illo gical question, and he was, in the mildest manner possible, reprimanded by Mr. Payne. Two exhibi tions so unseemly sufficed for Tuesday's sittings. There are some reflections to be made upon these scandalous altercations, slight as they are in them selves. With reference to the judges it would be far from our wish to suggest any other remark than that their particular court at Clerkenwell appears to contain the peculiar atmosphere favourable to these wranglings, of which we hear more from the Mid dlesex Sessions than from any other. Is it a fault of temper or taste, or an infirmity of judgment ren dering them impatient of the hot harangues which other judges, more serene and equable, might hear to the end and then dispose of by a few words of cold and keen rebuke ? We do not venture to sur mise ; but it does seem a striking coincidence that scarcely any session elapses at Clerkenwell without one or more ebullitions similarly to be regretted. With respect to counsel, assuredly Mr. Warton was bound to do the best for his clients ; but the worst can be done with the best intentions, and it was almost ludicrous to dilate before a jury on the perils of the British constitution, when the safety of a gold watch was the prominent question with a batch of well known malefactors to answer it. These loud tongued appeals to jurymen upon false issues do no good whatever. They exalt the rascal in the dock with a sense of his own importance ; they teach the scum and vagabondage in " the body of the court" to believe that the thief is an ill-used citizen ; they may bring a few briefs to the bullying advocate, but they degrade the advocate's profession. If we are to have justice administered between the highest and the meanest, our trials must take place in an atmosphere not influenced by the vulgar vehemence of declamatory, counsel ,or the still more painful irritability of susceptible judges. It is said that we cannot expect the highest forensic etiquette or judicial calmness in a minor criminal court ; nor can we ; but, upon the whole, the bar is what the bench compels it to be less by rebuke than by ex ample. It is bad- for the public, for the profession, for delinquents on their trial, and for justice itself, that criminal investigations should be interrupted by episodes of recriminatory passion. At the same time, endeavouring to stretch the whole compass of the question as raised by these untoward incidents, it is not to be denied that the country pays a great deal, and that individual wrong is occasionally in flicted by what are termed police prosecutions. No doubt, the police of London, east and west, are, as a body, generally respectable, though not in an equal ratio sagacious. They have arduous duties to fulfil; they undergo considerable risks ; and much is con stantly expected from them. On the other hand, they enjoy a peculiar protection under the law, which holds a wilful assault upon a police-officer to be little less than heinous. But, as in other bodies, the superiors are ambitious of power, and the in feriors are eager for promotion. Hence, although Mr. Warton, to whom the Deputy Assistant Judge gave a contradiction so direct and so stinging, that the court of justice at Clerkenwell appeared for the moment to have lost all dignity, was inexcusably in the wrong when he pointed around him to men present as having won their way up by impermis sible methods, he aimed, widely indeed, but still aimed, at an evil which indubitably exists. Looking at the whole matter without prejudice, we can but deplore the frequently recurring brawls—for they deserve no other term—which are rendering the Middlesex Sessions (whether the responsibility lies with the bench or with the bar) intolerably conspicu ous ; we must regret the looseness of language in which counsel with a vituperative faculty indulge, and we wish the judges could find a better method of rebuking them. As to the main point of contro versy between them, may it not, in due course, be considered worthy of investigation ? COUNTRY MARKETS LYNN-TUESDAY. A fair show of new wheat, for which the demand 111 15 slow at a reduction of 2s to 3s per qr. uponl last week's rates. One or two sampl es o f o ld w h ea t sold at is to 25 per qr. loss money, according to their freshness. Spring corn fully maintained last week's prices. New wheat, 44s to 52s ; new red, 42s to 44s ; old white, 48s to 52s ; old red, 47s to 48s per 36 stone. Barley for malting, 28s to 32s ; secondary, 30s ; ordinary, 24s to 265 per qr. Oats, 22s to 24s per 24 stone. Beans, large, 385 to 40s ; small, 42s to 44s per 38 stone. MELTON MOWBRAY.-TUESDAY. White wheat, 44s to Ms ; red, 38s to 49s per 36 stone. Barley for malting, 333 to 35s per qr ; feed, 28s to 30s per 30 stone. Oats, 27s to 30s. Beans, old, 43s to 455; nevrs 40s to —s per qr. SALISBURY.-TUESDAY. A short supply of old wheat was offered, but scarcely either in q u for es old for it.an y came r ne re w vious qu t o o ta h t a io n n d s , w al e t r h e ou n g o h t m th ai e n re ta lv n eLe or new. For old barley an active demand has set in at higher values, this year's growth being deficient in quan tity. Oats unaltered, but requirements somewhat limited. In beans and peas sales were slowly effected, but prices un changed. For flour no particular demand ; prices less firm. The following are the quotations :—Wheat realised from 38s to 52s ; barley, 26s to 32s ; oats, 22s to 30s ; beans, 400 to 50s ; and peas, 348 to 42s per qr. Tares, from 6s to 7 i, 1 3d per bushel ; Best bread, 12d ; h ouse h o ld ditt o , lid per 81b loaf. Flour, 32s to 37s per sack. .--T UESDAY. At our market to-da HULL y there was a fair show of English wheat, but very little business done. Prices went down about 2s per qr. for all descriptions but the very best old. Barley experienced a good demand, and stout Danish held for 28s to 28s 6d. Oats very scarce, and realised extreme prices. Beans and peas also in request, and of short sup ply. In linseed the amount of business is not large. The price of fine seed is fully maintained. English old white wheat, 46s to 48s ; old red, 42s to 460. Barley, chevalier, 28s to 325. Oats, R uss i an, 22 s to 24s- Beans, now English, 42s to 435. Peas, English blue, 3 58 to 36s 6d ; grinding, 35s to 35s Gd per 36 stone. COAL MARKET. Price per ton at the close of the market. s. d. s. Carway and Duffryn f Holywell Main l6 Malting 24 0 Hetton 2O 3 Byass's Bebside West Kelloe Hartley lB 3 Cassop Whitworth l5 3 Tees Ships at market, 23 ; sold, 21. Births. NEWNIIAM.—On the 36th inst., at the British Consulate, Amsterdam, Mrs. Newnham, of a son. RAYNSFORD.—On the 10th July, at Bangalore, the wife of Captain Raynsford, Madras Staff Corps, of a daughter. SIMOND.—On the sth inst., at 6, Porchester-square, the wife of F. F. Simond, Esq., of a son. Such.—On the 6th inst., at 43, Princes-square, Bays" water, the wife of Joseph Suche, Est., of a son. Marriages. CHANNELL—WYNDHAM.—On the 6th inst., at the pariah church, Iwerne Minster, Dorset, Arthur Moseley Chan nell, Esq., M A., of Trin. Col., Cam., and of the Inn er Temple, barrister-at-l aw, only son of the Hon. Sir Wre • Fry Channell, one of the Barons of the Court of Exchei quer, to Beatric e E rnest i ne, third surviving daughter (;... Alex Wadham Wyndham, Esq., of West Lodge, Blanu ford, Dorset, and Borrishoole, co. Mayo, Ireland WRIGHT — WELLBELOVED.—On the 4th inst., at St. MI tho Evangelist, Westminster, Mr. Charles R. Wright, 0 ,, Westminster an d K enn i ngton, to Cecilia Eliza, soon(' daughter of the late Mr. Wellbeloved, of Deptford. Deaths. .ARABIN.---On the 6th inst., at Theobald's Park, rie rtl4 Richard Arabiu, Esq., of High Beech, Essex,'aged 54. BELBEN.—On the Ist inst., at Longfleet, Poole George Belben, Esq., aged 70. GOLDING.—On the 4th inst., at the Rectory, Stratford s c i Mary, Suffolk, the Rev. Charles William Golding, ago 31. HUGHES.—On the 4th inst., at 158, Strand, John Georg e Hughes, of the South Eastern Railway, aged 55. LOY.—On the 4th inst., at Whitby, John Glover Loy, Esq./ M.D., aged 90. Moon.—On the sth inst., at Minton Rectory, Staplehurs t v the Rev. Robert Moore, aged 58. MAmEw.—On the 3d inst., at Margate, Samuel Mayhe r f Esq., of The Park, Camberwell , aged 83. London : Printed and Published by WIL LIAM ANDREW S , of No. 112, Strand, Pinter, at Titz Sum Office, No, 112. Strand, in the Precinct of the EIITOr in the County of MiddlcaeL•—Thursday, September 7, 1865.