The Sun. — London, England, 1834-09-09 00:00:00

SPIRIT OF THE 7 Pr t.; ; '..LIC JOURNALS. We are a..,,--,,it -----■•--- ea with the ease with which some of O u r c:Qntemporaries wheel round from one extreme to the other. It was but the other day that the Standard extolled to the skies a laboured article on the Press in Blackwood, in which all possible evils were anticipated from the prevailing licentiousness of newspapers, and the Conservatives were invited to offer premiums for a Vauban of the press, to invent a system by which the evil might be effectually resisted. " Generally speak ing," said the slashing writer in Blackwood, " the press is decidedly democratic ; and this is proved to demon stration by the immense circulation which the leading papers which have adopted that side of politics have obtained. That it is . daily, too, becoming more licen tious—that strong and vivid pictures addressed to the passions and the imagination, incitements to sensual in. aul g ence, and that fatal union of genius with 1 toup u ousness which is the well-known sign of a declining age, have of late become prevalent, is matter of uni versal observation." Last night, however, the Stand ard had another game to play—namely, to create alarm on account of the threatened repeal of the duty on newspapers. The existing state of the press was all that was excellent last night ; it was like our matchless Constitution before the Reform Bill ; and of all this excellence we are to be deprived by Lord Brougham's revolutionary plans. " If (says our contemporary) the press now adequately sup plies that channel for public feeling and for the public will, which is wanted to perf ec t th e theory of safe and universal representation, a derangement of the press may disturb the ba lance of popular will and popular power, in a manner to ren der more extensive changes inevitable, if not to be desired. Though, too, we must incur all the consequences of seeming vanity and presumption in avowing the opinion, we neverthe less confidently assert t - ne conviction that in every attribute of knowledge and talent, the existing press of England greatly excels the F. 7 4ouse of Commons ; we need not say, for this all will ae.lnit, greatly excels the periodical press of any other age er Country ; and in the qualities of integrity, and a general respect for morality and honour, the press certainly does not fall behind the house which follows Lord Althorp, as a leader, and accepts Messrs. Littleton and O'Connell amongst its most prominent speakers. " If, then, we are right in assuming, first, that the press re presents an important division of the people not represented in Parliament ; next, that it discharges this duty with compe tent talent and integrity, the public ought seriously to "consider whether it will allow the press to be tampered with, particu larly by its natural enemies, by its successful rivals in the pur suit of actual power, but distanced competitors in the race integrity and talent." Taking all this, as in duty bound for gospel, though the House of Commons may not be so ready to take it, and admitting that " the existing press of England greatly excels the periodical press of any other age or country," we are to inquire how the repeal of the stamp duties is to deprive us of this great ad vantage. First, the existing unstamped papers are exclusively teachers of spoliation and rebellion ; and seeing what is the commodity that experience has shown best to fit the penny-press market, is it desirable to make that market commensurate with British society ? " It is our deliberate opinion (says our contemporary) that a removal of the newspaper stamp duties would call into existence five hundred daily journals in London, varying in size from less than a sheet of letter paper, to perhaps a larger dimension than that of any newspaper now printed. The first, and least mischievous consequence of this immense accumu lation of printed matter, would be the physical necessity of depriving us of the privilege of sending newspapers by post, thus breaking down the political union and sympathy of the country, and, as a necessary effect, localising in London, as the very same cause has localised it in Paris, all the political influence of the empire." But it is admitted that the circulation of the un stamped papers which advocate spoliation, extends at most to a few thousands, and why are we to infer that a repeal of the stamp duties would add so immensely to the circulation of papers of this description ? There is no restraint on buying these infamous papers, whatever there may be on selling them ; and we are therefore entitled to infer that if no more be sold, it is because there is no demand. We know that of the papers which do not require a stamp, the circulation is enormous, extending to hundreds of thousands, and nothing can be purer then the morality of those which are in possession of the largest circulation. The pa pers which set the stamp laws at defiance are conducted by men who would not embrace so desperate a course, were they not anarchically disposed ; and it is no won der, therefore, that all the unstamped political papers should advocate spoliation, and even darker crimes. But are we to conclude that, because men, who, as a condition of their existence, are violators of the law, urge to further violations of the law, therefore all other writers, if unrestrained by fiscal impediments, would equally urge to violations of the law ? We, on the contrary, contend, that, as purchasers may every where buy the unprincipled publications, the smallness of the circulation sufficiently proves that the public in general loathe them. Our contemporary then contends that the next consequence will be a deluge of public treason and private libel. " Nothing (says our contemporary) but the stamp laws prevents the setting up of newspapers for temporary purposes and personal objects. Let the duty be removed, and we shall have newspapers set up, as they are occasionally in America, without any design of a permanent profitable return, of course of a permanent existence, merely to run down one par son, or to raise another up. If the newspaper support itself, well—and if rich in local slander it will support itself ; but if not, a few pounds will cover the cost of ruining any man in character, perhaps in circumstances. The idle and the ma licious will be a-gape for the new journal, so that little adver tisement can be necessary. Every election for a churchwarden, or sidesman, or beadle, will either call some new parochial print into existence or cause those established to be retained in the quarrel. Of course, in this perpetual flux of journals, character cannot be acquired, and would be of little value if attainable. What security, then, can the public have from private libel and public treason? Pecuniary security there can be none ; for the whole suppellex of a journal's establishment, such journals as they will be, can be converted into cash, at the printer's brokers, in half an hour; and security in charac ter, as we have seen, is utterly hopeless." We thought it had been admitted by our contem porary, that the public in this country expect from a newspaper not merely foreign and domestic news, but a record of all that passes in Parliament, Courts of Law, in public meetings, &c. Now such a news paper cannot be furnished without the possession of a large capital, and incurring heavy responsibilities for an establishment. We defy any man without the pos session of great capital or great credit, to establish a paper, fit to compete with an existing one ; and why are we to suppose that the public would be satisfied with a bad commodity when a good one was in the market ? The press of America is, we grant, abusive. We do not think that the press of this country, how ever, would, in this respect, resemble the American. The capital of England may be said to supply the mat ter for the press of the whole - empire. All the foreign intelligence, Parliamentary reports, law proceedings, &c., are copied from the London papers by the country papers. Now America is without any locality to in demnify a publisher for the expenditure necessary for a London newspaper. Washington is a village, and any newspaper published in it must trust to circu lation in other parts of the Union ; and no man would think of incurring an expense in getting up a publication which might be copied by a rival and the copy sold as soon as the original. The expense of a newspaper in America is merely the expense of compositors and pressmen ; and hence the facility with which they are set up. In London, however, were the Stamp Duties repealed to morrow, the establishment of a newspsper would be a work of difficulty and great expense ; and property renders men sharp-sighted. To suppose that the owner of a valuable property would expose it to hazard, by encouraging treason and running a-muck against every one who came in his wa y , is most ab surd. We are, however, inclined to think that the repeal of the tax, by bringing newspapers within the reach of a lower class of readers, would render the press more a representative of the opinions of that class than it is at present. The press would perhaps be somewhat more declamatory than it is—somewhat more intole rant ; for the great failing of the lower orders is to make little allowance for those who do not think as they do. We deny, however, that the poorer classes are prone to licentiousness, irreligion, or laxity of morals. So far is this from being the case, that they rather in general are on the side of austerity. How ever, whatever be the consequences of the change, we must make up our minds to them ; for we defy any Government of the count r y to cont i nue a tax l ong w hi c h h as for its object the excluding a large portion of the people from the benefit of the press.—Morning Chronicle. Lord Denman is reported to have said at the late Sheriff's dinner at Bristol, " that he hoped he might safely assert that throughout the country generally, party feeling and political enmities had entirely sof tened down, See." But we think that the majority of persons will agree with us in asking, what are the grounds on which the Learned Chief Justice has founded such a hope ? Is it, we would ask, on the conduct exhibited in either House of Parliament,when some of the most important measures of the Session have been sacrificed to party considerations, and where the tone of debate has frequently assumed an asperity, which party, and the very rankest spirit of party, could alone account for ? Or has his Lordship arrived at the conclusion from the scenes lately exhibited in Glou cestershire and elsewhere ? Or can his Lordshiy have wholly overlooked or forgotten the almost unpre cedented attacks made lately by a portion of the Press on the character of a Minister of the Crown ? We will only add, that we wish that there had been even the slightest foundation for such a hope—for of all the curses with which the country is afflicted, the curse of party is the greatest ! A ptly has it been termed—" the madness of the many, for the gain of the few." It is this which excludes from the nation's councils some of the most able and efficient men ; and almost irremediably, we fear, precludes the hope of seeing that union of the talent and integrity of public men which was held out to the country as one of the immediate benefits to be derived from the carrying of the two great questions of Catho lic Emancipation and Reform. The settling of these questions, it was said, would remove the chief and dis tinguishing landmarks between Whig and Tory. Has it so done ? If so, what benefit have we yet derived ? But we would ask how much longer is it expected that the country will rest contented to see whole Sessions wasted in arranging party manoeuvres, or rest satisfied in watching Whigs and Tories contending for the loaves and fishes, while its real and vital interests appear to be considered by the combatants of a wholly secondary importance ? The very names of Whig and Tory are, or should be, obsolete. We condemn the very use of the term as mischievous, and because they convey no intelligible idea, or at least nine men out of ten would attach a different meaning to them. For ourselves, we have long professed to belong to neither; the public good, unconnected with all party, has ever been the polar star of our exertions ; and every useful measure, from whatever quarter it may proceed, whether from Lord Grey or Sir R. Peel, a Stanley or a Hume, shall ever have, as hitherto, our zealous and independent support.—Morning Herald. In the evidence published by the Chairman of the Committee devoted to drunkenness there is ample proof that the appropriate faculty of seeing double was pos sessed by nearly all who took a part in the investiga tion either as witnesses or examiners. It is curious, indeed, to observe how the men in buckram may be reduced by looking at the exaggerations in connection with any one unquestionable fact from which they have germinated. For example, Mr. Mark Moore states— " There is one class of individuals in the coal trade, called undertakers,' and another coal-whippers,' or coal. heavers.' The coal ships from the north are consigned to the former by the owners, factors, or captains, to deliver' or unload ; and they employ the latter for that purpose, in gangs' of nine men each; one gang being appointed to each ship. The great evil in this arrangement is, that almost all of these under takers' are publicans, or connected with publicans ; and no coal-heaver, with the exception of a very small number, can be employed but through them. " The understood conditions of employment are, that the men shall spend, in ardent spirits and malt liquour, a con siderable portion of the earnings. The score' at the end of the week always amounts to one-third, and frequently one half, and sometimes more than half of their wages. A case has lately occurred of one man, who for weeks together has not received more than 6s. per week out of about 245. "In this weekly score' there are two items of a very op pressive character charged by the publican, viz. "tow-row" and bad-score' under each of which is put down from Is. to 2s. 6d., and for which the coal-heaver never receives one far thing in any shape ; the charge being made under the pretence of treating the captain.' " There are two sets of coal-heavers employed, the con stant' and the extra-men ;' and it is a common practice for the former, in the consideration of their being constantly em ployed, to pay the undertaker' (publican) 2s. 6d. a week for ' lodging money,' while they always lodge at home with their families. One qualification is indispensable for being put on the list of constant men,' viz. hard-drinking." The hardest drinker is the best man.'" There is probably some truth in this representation, and the system, so far as it may be truly described, is decidedly unjust and injurious ; but, whatever may be the foundation of truth, there is obviously a super structure of gross exaggeration ;- for it must occur to every one on reading the statement, that the " undertakers " must have an interest in getting the vessels unloaded, and that to ply the men with liquor as alleged must disqualify them for the labour. Indeed, Mr. Mark Moore, multiplying his men of buckram as he advances, and discovering Kendal-green in the dark, quotes evidence that " the men die off like rotten sheep "—the men whom he has described as " con stant men ! " Now we confess, that we are at a loss to understand how men called " constant," because regularly employed in preference to others, can die off like rotten sheep : certain we are that no shepherd would give the name of constant to a flock perishing of the rot. It may be answered, that the description of " constant men " for sets that die like rotten sheep, means men constantly dying like Liston's Apollo Belvi, who, by his own account, was subject to sudden death : but let us read the rapid mortality of the " constant men" as we may, and the inference must be, that if so quickly swept away by gin, the " undertaker's" pre ference of them (and certainly the preference for such very short-lived subjects is natural in undertakers) could not long exclude the " extra men," who would in the case described soon be able to make their own terms, and to hold the chief possession of the business. The truth very likely is, that the " constant men" both work and drink harder than they ought, and that they are exhausted before the natural term of a la botiring man's life ; but the vast excess of liquor and corresponding mortality alleged must be exaggeration, or the system would be destroyed by its own destroying vice. In all the arguments and the evidence of these super-sober sages we see the same practical reductio ad absurdam. They always drive on to some conclu sion against notorious experience. By their showing, London should, in respect of its working population, be a city of the dead—that is, either the dead or the dead drunk, and the few workpeople staggering up and down should be nearly naked ; for the favourite drift of the drunken evidence is, that all wages and pauper relief are expended in gin, and after the money is gone, the labouring man pulls off his shirt, and the poor woman her flannel petticoat, upon seeing the temptation of a gin-shop with a great lamp, and they pawn the garments at the nearest pawnbroker's to get liquor. Such, horrid circumstances doubtless do occur, but they are not to set down as the habits of the populace, for the curious eye may detect shirts and flannel petticoats, notwithstanding gin-shops. To say that there is more intemperance than there should be, is merely asserting a truism, and we know not in what walk of life the ne quid nimis is to be seen illustrated; but the intemperance of topers will never be abated by the intemperance of the advocates of sobriety ; and all these overcharged cases, like overcharged guns, mis carry their ll aimth e, rough the recoil. What being of common that was anxious for the cure of a disease, would lay a monstrous exaggeration of the s h y n m w p e t v o e m r, s s b p e u fo rr r e e d th o e n Itys a lCi f a a n na ? tic E ism ve . ry c A au r s e e p i u s w for the greatest zealis drawing by the most frightful sought, notbypro i p g o h s t i ful a ng tnto t io h n e aptest remedy, but pic ture of the evil to be co rrec t e d .._Times. MURDER AT UTTOXETER.—On the 3d inst. an inquest was held by Mr. Cattlow, at Uttoxeter, on the body of Sarah, the wife of Jonathan Mottram, who is a pensioner of many years' standing, and . has lost his r i g h t arm . O n t h e previous evening, between nine and ten o'clock, Mottram went to the house of the deputy constable and sur ren d ere d hi mself, saying that he had killed his wife, which on inquiry turned out to be too true. Her death appeared to have been effected by repeated blows of an iron bar from the bottom of a grate, and of a brick-end, and there were no less than eleven woun d s on her head. After an inquiry, which lasted more than four hours, the Jury returned a verdict of " Wilful Murd er " aga i nst the husband, who was committed for trial at the next A ss i zes. There was a good deal of evidence tending to show that the prisoner was insane ; and the Jury, to many of whom h e was known, did not arrive at the above conclusion without retiring and deliberating a considerable time. Sta./Ards/um Advert THE SUN, LONDON, TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1834 OLD BAILEY.-SEPT. 8. Timothy 111Tarthy was indicted for maliciously wound ing Ellen his wife, with intent to kill and murder her. The prisoner and his wife had been quarrelling during the whole day named in the indictment, and he at length struck her a violent blow on the head with a poker ; some neighbours came to her assistance, and found her in a state of insensibility ; she was - by them conveyed to an hos pital, where she remained for a considerable time before she recovered from the effects of the prisoner's ill-treatment. She, however, did not attend this day to give evidence against the prisoner, and it was intimated that she was kept out of the way. The prisoner, in defence, said that his wife had been false to him, and that her conduct had made him so mad that he did not know what he was about. The Jury found him Guilty of assaulting his wife with intent to do her some grievous bodily harm. POLICE INTELLIGENCE. MANSION-HOUSE. Yesterday a man named James Reynolds was brought before the LORD MAYOR, charged with having run away with some goods from Yarmouth races. J. Field, an eating-house keeper at Yarmouth deposed that a person named Lofts, the keeper of a booth at the races, applied to him for the loan of a number of glasses and a quantity of earthenware to cut a dash with. Wit ness sent what he wanted to him, but, instead of returning them, together with the payment for the hire, Mr. Lofts thought proper to ship the goods on board a trading vessel, and cut the race course with the profits. For the purpose of doing the witness in a way that might be creditable to a race course landlord, Mr. Lofts sent down the prisoner a couple of days before to act as his servant, and when he meditated flight, put the prisoner forward to ship the goods, and they were accordingly shipped, and addressed to the prisoner in London. Mr. Lofts having quitted Yarmouth previously, in order, no doubt, to be in London in time to receive and dispose of them. The goods were worth about 5/. The LORD MAYOR—I suppose the booth was a gambling booth ? The complainant supposed that a little of that sort of trading went on there, but he knew nothing of it. He had apprehended the prisoner at Yarmouth, but the Magistrates refused to detain the man. The LORD MAYOR said that theft was carried on under such a variety of forms, and was so ingeniously mixed up with apparent business transactions, that it was no easy matter for a . man to know how he was treated until he either had the money in his hands, or lost sight of goods and purchaser altogether. The Prisoner.—My Lord, I know nothing of the affair more than this. Mr. Lofts employed me to act as his servant at the races, and I did so from Wednesday till Saturday last, but without receiving a single farthing for my services. I helped him with the goods off the course, and was to have had a passage in the trader to London, but I knew nothing of this person being the owner of the glass and earthenware. The LORD MAYOR.—They are directed to you. Pri soner.—l know nothing of that. The LORD MAYOR.—Oh, no doubt of that. I suppose you would not have claimed them if you had not been ap prehended? Prisoner.—They are not mine, my Lord. The LORD MAYOR.—WeII, then, I suppose you will have no objection to go down to the Captain of the trader, and tell him to give up the goods to this poor man whom you assisted in plundering ? Prisoner.—l don't see how I can tell the Captain to give up the goods to him, as I have no right to exercise any authority over them. The LORD MAYOR.—Are the goods arrived? Com plainant.—Yes, my Lord ; they are at Wool Quay now. The LORD MAYOR.—And you have followed up the prisoner ? Complainant.—Yes, I never let him out of my sight. I was determined not to be robbed. The LORD MAYOR.—YOU were right ; but I have known as clever and resolute fellows taken in. Well, prisoner, if you don't go down with this poor man and deliver him up his goods you shall go to Newgate. The prisoner was startled at hearing this awful sound, and said in dismay, " My Lord, I'll do all in my power to recover the gentleman's goods for him." The LORD MAYOR.—Look to it instantly. Officer, ac• company the prosecutor and prisoner to the vessel, and, if the latter does not act as he says he will, bring him back, and to Newgate or the House of Correction he assuredly shall go. The Yarmouth man departed, all gratitude. A Jew, named Moses Mendez, of long black visage and very diminutive size, aged 62, appeared to complain of hav ing been robbed of various articles of ornament by s. young woman named Elizabeth Smith. Moses, who appeared to be a very moral person, had been some time ago taken ill with an indisposition, whereby the young woman came to nurse him. Very well, she ap peared to be getting on with due propriety, but when he began getting well his goods began to move off gradually and not to return again, and he told her that they were a going, but she said no. At last a coral necklace disappeared, but as it was on a Saturday, and as that was a day of rest to him, he said nothing about it. The LORD MAYOR—I dare say you were not so particu lar on the next day ? Mendez—l was, my Lord, every bit. For I knew it was the Christians' day of worship, and so I was silent all that day ; not a word did I say until Monday, and then says I to her, " You have been a prigging that necklace." " Why, yes," says she, " I have to be sure, and why not ? An't it my property ? Why, I'll not only have that but every thing in the room." The Loan MAYOR—HOW many rooms have you, Mr. Mendez ? Mendes—l am but a poor man though I have been brought up in a very proper way. I attend the Syna gogue regularly. The LORD MAYOR—Pray did your doctor prescribe to you when you were indisposed to take this young woman into your bed ?—(A laugh.) Mendez—No, my Lord. He did not say anything about that. The LORD MAYos—Then, you prescribed in that way for yourself ? Mendez—She took my property, please you, my Lord. Am Ito be robbed ? The LORD MAYOR—Did she act the wife as well as the nurse to you ? Mendez—Why, my Lord, it's very likely she did. Prisoner—Oh, please you, my Lord, he knows I sarved him both ways.—( Laughter.) The LORD MAYOR—Prisoner, you are discharged. Mendez—But, my dear Sir, listen to me. What am I to do ? I can't afford to have her on such terms. Now if you could manage The LORD MAYOR—Leave the Justice-room this mo ment. If you take a woman to live with you under such circumstances, you must take the consequences, which ought to be just what they have been. MARLBOROUGH-STREET. Yesterday a rough-looking fellow of the name of M'Dermott, was brought before Mr. CHAMBERS, charged with having threatened the lives of Mr. Hardinm, senior, builder, of John-street, Horseferry-read, and also :labourer in his employ. Mr. Harding, jun., deposed that his father having ac cepted the contract for repaving the parish of St. George, Hanover-square, was under the necessity of employing a great number of labourers. The duty of s uperintending them devolved on him (complainant.) Yesterday morning, while the men were at work in Park-street, the prisoner came and asked for employment, which was readily given him. He, however, had not been long at work before he (the prisoner) began to quarrel with another labourer, and, taking up one of the masons' hammers, threatened to knock the man's brains out. On inquiring into the cause of the quarrel, he discovered that the prisoner belonged to the Operative Builders' Union, which was not the case with the other man. The prisoner refused to work with the Anti-Unionist, and also insisted that none of the members of the Union should work if the objectionable person re mained. The men accordingly struck. Witness then interfered, on which the prisoner threatened to knock his brains out. Mr. CHAMBERS—Do you apprehend that the prisoner will do you any mischief? Mr. Harding--I do. Mr. CHAMBERS—Then he shall find bail to answer your charge at the Sessions ; himself in 801., and two sureties in 40/. each ; and also to give 24 hours' notice of bail. The prisoner not being prepared with the required bail, was locked up. Q UEEN- S QUARK. Yesterday Isaac Edwards, a painter and glazier, and a member of the Trades' Union, of Friar-street, Blackfriars road, late in the employ of Messrs. Bennet and Hunt, builders, of the Horseferry-road, Westminster, was charged before Messrs. BURRELL and WHITE with creating a mob in the Westminster-road, and violently assaulting John Smith, a tradesman in Messrs. Bennet and Co.'s employ, under the following circumstances. Mr. Shuter, solicitor, of No. 67, Milbank-street, at tended on behalf of the complainant. The complainant was a smith by trade, and had been in the employ of Messrs. Bennet and Hunt about five years. On Saturday evening last, when he left work with several other men, they were follow ed by the prisoner and a num ber of others over Westminster -bridge , hissing and hooting them, calling them " knobsticks" for signing the document. The prisoner carried an effigy, which had a r o p e roun d its neck, which he shoved i n his face, saying, " Thi s i s th e way When to serve all knobsticks." near the Marsh-gate, Lambeth, witness was struck by several of the mob, which had now increased to about 500 men. Th e p r i soner wa s one of the rnoli who struck him. Mr. Shuter—Are you a member of the Trades' U nion ? Witness—l am not, nor ever have been. Mr. Shuter—Do you know whether the defendant is a member of the Trades' Union ? Witness—l believe he is. Mr. Shuter—Have you ever been attacked in a similar manner by the men who have left their employ ? Witness —Yes. For the last three Saturdays we have been served in a similar manner, and it is quite time that a stop should be put to it. We do not attempt to annoy or insult them. Mr. Yates, the inspector of the L division, here produced the effigy. Henry Chandler, another workman in the employ of Messrs. Bennet and Hunt, gave nearly similar evidence to the last witness. He saw the complainant struck several blows by the mob, but be could not identify any person, the confusion was so great. Mr. Shuter—Was the prisoner one of the persons who were following you ? Witness—He was. Mr. Shuter—How many persons might there be after you in the Westminster-road ? Witness—l should think at least from four to five hundred. Mr. WHITE—How many men do you think there were at first ? Witness—Perhaps about twenty, but they in creased considerably as they followed us. Mr. WHITE—Can you give any idea how many of the men in the mob had been in the employ of Messrs. Bennet and Hunt ? Witnesss-s-There were a great many. I saw five or six myself, but there might be many more. Mr. Shuter—Had you been previously annoyed and in sulted by these men who have left their work ? Witness —Yes, for the last three Saturdays. I cannot, however, speak as to the previous Saturday, for I was not there. Mr. Shuter—Did the prisoner appear to be one of the leaders of the mob ? Witness—Yes he did, and on the previous occasions also. Mr. Shuter—Did the prisoner leave the employ of Messrs. Bennet and Hunt at the same time a number of other workmen did ? Witness—l believe so. Mr. Shuter—Do you know the reason why they left ? Witness—Because they would not sign a declaration that they would not belong to the Trades' Union. Mr. WHITE—Do you know the reason why the prisoner molested you ? Witness—Because Ido not belong to the Unions. Edward Cook, a police constable of the L division, No. 71, confirmed the evidence of the c omplainant. The prisoner, in his defence , — Was an Englishman, and had worked for Messrs. Bennet and Hunt nine years, and had never had a complaint against him. Mr. Hunt, jun., was in the office, and he (prisoner) was not ashamed to show his face either in the office or anywhere else. The po lice constable had sworn false. He was not the man that took him into custody. It was a constable in plain clothes. Mr. WHITE—WiII you give any explanation as to the charge of assault made againSt you. Why did you follow these men in the manner described ? Prisoner—There is an antipathy between the Unions and the knobsticks. (It was here explained to the Magistrates that the term " knobsticks" was applied to those workmen who would not join the Unions.) The prisoner denied having assaulted the complainant, hut called no witnesses. The Magistrates having consulted together, Mr. Bra- RELL said that they were quite satisfied with the evidence. It was a very serious assault, and they felt it their duty to fine the prisoner in the full penalty of Si., and in default of payment he would be committed for two months to the House of Correction. In addition to which they should require the prisoner to find two good sureties in the sum of 50/. each to be answerable for his keeping the peace for the next six months. The prisoner was then locked up. TVORSHIP-STREET. - • - ------- - - A well-dressed young man, named William Dowell, a carpenter, was charged with being found concealed in the house of Mr. Robert Engley, a publican in the City-road. The prosecutor stated that between one and two o'clock that morning, he was awoke by hearing footsteps on the stairs, and in consequence got up and searched every part of the house ; but finding no one but his own family, he th o ught be might have been dreaming, and again retired to bed ; but shortly afterwards, at the suggestion of his wife, he struck a light and went into his servant's room, and behold there was the prisoner in bed with her ! Witness lost no time in,calling for the police, to whom he gave the prisoner into custody, and discharged his servant. Mr. BROUGHTON—Do you know the prisoner ? Pro secutor--Oh, yes ; he is a regular customer of mine. Have you lost any thing ? Yes ; some silver spoons, but I don't think he took them. I believe him to be honest. The prisoner, who appeared (or pretended to appear) ashamed of his conduct, said nothing. Air. BROUGHTON told the prisoner, that had any serious loss been sustained by the prosecutor, he might have been charged as the thief ; but as it appeared there was more love in the affair than felony he should discharge him. The prisoner was accordingly discharged. THAMES- OFFICE. Charles Anderson. a middle-aged man, a tavern waiter, was brought before the Magistrates, on a warrant, charged with beating his wife, Maria Anderson, who appeared with two black eyes and a cut lip. The wife detailed a series of matrimonial miseries, and said her spouse was in the habit of beating her until her body was black and blue, and taking her hard earnings from her which he expended in his favourite beverage, gin. The defendant, who looked very pitiful, here exclaimed " I took her for better, for worse—oh dear !" Mr. BRODERIP—What is the matter with the man, he appears quite broken-hearted—has he been drinking ? An officer—Your Worship he is a senzinzental man. Mr. BRODERIP—I believe be is sentimentally drunk. What have you had to drink this morning ? Defendant— (with a sigh)—Only two glasses of gin, and two half-pints of beer—oh Lord—(laughter). The wife was then requested to state the specific charge on which her spouse was apprehended, and she said that on Monday night last he came home and demanded her money which she had earned that day as a charwoman. On her refusal to give him the moneyhe struck her on the nose, and knocked her down. He then tied her hands behind her, and took her money from her. He had since beaten her because she refused to give him gin-money. The defendant, on being called upon to answer the charge, pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped away his tears, which flowed in abundance. Mr. BRODERIP—Come, Sir, don't make yourself ridicu lous ; what have you to say to this ? Defendant—Oh, Sir, I can't speak, my heart is so full. It is too much for me ; I can't bear it ; pity my weakness. This was uttered in such a ludicrous, self-sympathising tone of voice, as to cause great laughter. The wife here said her husband was always drinking, and a few days ago he took the tea-pot out of the house, sold it, and spent the proceeds in gin. The husband denied this, and said he worked bard for his living. He was formerly in business. Mr. BRODERIP—You may work hard for your living, but you don't work hard for your drinking. You are what is termed maudlin now ; you are always drinking, and now cry like a child. You have no nerves ; they are destroyed ; see what drinking gin can do. The bench had before them a maudlin drunken fellow, and he was afraid the wife was not much better. She must not, however, be knocked about in such a brutal manner, and he ordered the defend ant to find bail to keep the peace towards her in future. The defendant, on hearing this, burst into tears, and ex claimed, " Oh, my Lord, I'll never touch her again as long as I live." UNION-HALL. 71(e. Yesterday Mary Maloney, a tall, hard-featured, middle aged woman, was charged with committing an unprovoked assault on Emily Henderson, the daughter of a retired tradesman at Rotherhithe. The circumstances which led to the assault arose out of jealousy on the part of the de fendant, who, even in the office, could not restrain the feel ing, which seemed to have taken complete possession of her mind. The complainant, a pretty dark-eyed girl of sixteen years of age, stated that on the preceding afternoon, as she was wa lking along Rotherhithe-wall, accompanied by a young female friend, the defendant came up behind and struck her a violent blow under the ear, exclaiming at the same time, " There, take that, you hussey : what business have you got going about gallivanting with my husband ?" She was about to repeat the assault on the complainant, who ran into a shop for protection from the violence of Mrs. Maloney, whose countenance exhibited the rage which was working within. The complainant had never given the de fendant the least cause for attacking her, and never to her recollection did she ever behold that person's husband. Mr. TRAILL asked the defendant the reason she attacked the complainant, and whether she had ever seen her in the company of her husband ? The defendant had not actually seen the young lady with her husband, but some of her neighbours had told her that they had. They described the female in whose society m y husband spends more of his time than in mine, and it corresponds with the complainant. " Besides," added she, I observed her lurking for some evenings past on Rother hithe-wall, and was confident that she was waiting for my husband." _ . _ The complainant, whose father was in attendance, said that her only motive for walking on Rotherhithe was to get a breath of fresh air after being confined at home all day, and not, as was falsely insinuated, to meet other women's husbands. Mr. TRAILL said that it was quite evident the defendant was labouring under a wrong impression with regard to Miss Henderson, w h o , i t did not seem p r obable, from her s tation in life and h er yout h, wou ld h av e stolen interviews with a journeyman ships' caulker, who was old enough al most to 1),1 her grandfathc;r ; the idea was ridiculous. Deiendant.—My husband is a gay man ; I know it to m y sorrow, and the o ld er h e ge t s th e f o nder he is becoming of young women. He doesn't case how young they are ; but as for me, he treats me with disdain. I might as well have no husband at all as such a husband as him, for he's of no use excepting to give me the bit of victuals and clothes that I wear. . _ Mr. Henderson said that his daughter had received a liberal education, and always associated with none but those who were highly respectable. He was astounded on being informed that his daughter had excited the jealous feelings of a caulker's wife, and more so when the latter spread a rumour about that his daughter was in the habit of meet ing her husband with his tarry jacket on of an evening when he was done his day's work. It was ridiculous in the extreme to believe such a report ; but then ho trusted that his daughter might be protected from the jealous feelings of the wife. The Defendant, who still manifested the " green-eyed monster," was held to bail. FUNERAL AT SEA. ( From the United Service Journal.) The slaughter on board the frigates and the India [nen had been very great ; and such was their damaged condition, that had the seventy-four been away, no thing could have saved them from being captured : as it was, they were many leagues from home, and Bri tish cruisers were flying about in all directions. In the forenoon watch on the following morning, the French ships hoisted their ensigns half-peak up, and their pennants half-mast high, whilst the seventy four, hauling to the wind, displayed an enormous ‘Yhite flag at the main, which was quickly answered by a corresponding flag on board the Fortunte, and the green barge that had chased us when making our escape, was sent on board the Indianian for the re mains of the gallant Dashall. O n h er r e turn along _ _ side, the body was extended on flags in a midship on the thwarts—the Union Jack of England was spread over it—the French captains took their stations abaft, with their heads uncovered—a white flag was hoisted on a staff in the bows—several boats took the barge in tow, whilst others formed a guard of honour, every one bearing a white flag ; and at the firing of a guii, which was answered by the men-of-war, a small band of music played the Dead March, and the proces sion moved off from the seventy-four towards the For- The spectacle was grand, but melancholy ; the measured sweep of the oars kept time to the slow and solemn strains of the musie—every head was uncovered, and the reports of the minute guns sounded heavily on the waters—it was a tribute of the brave to the memory of the brave. At first the Fortuni:e seemed suspicious of the pro ceedings, and very naturally showed but little disposi• tion to trust to men who had so recently violated the sanctuary of a neutral port. But the facts of the case were soon made evident, and the British ships pre pared to meet the confidence and generous conduct of the enemy. The boats of the frigates were instantly manned, and carrying the white flag in the bows, the two captains and other officers advanced to meet the French flotilla. The frigates responded to the minute guns, the ensigns and pennants hung drooping from their unwonted places, whilst on both sides the sea men, bareheaded, crowded in the rigging of every vessel, to watch'the issue of the meeting. At length the boats were near enough to communi cate, and Lord Amelius was promptly informed of the loss his country had sustained by the untimely decease of the gallant Dashall, whose mutilated body lay stretched beneath the proud flag of England. Lord Amelius ran alongside the barge, and the officers ex changed salutes, as the two British captains entered the boat in which were the three French captains. It was a curious and remarkable sight—hostility had ceased, nay, even animosity had fled—a friendly feel ing of mutual regard prevailed, and the temporary bond of union bore the impress of the hand of death. The corpse was uncovered, and all gazed on•it in profound silence, which was suddenly broken by the appearance of a wounded seaman, who crept from be neath the thwarts, and folding his arms across his breast, took his seat near the dead man's head. His dress was saturated with blood, which rendered the livid hue of his face more unnaturally pale ; the fire of his eye was quenched, the strength of his stout frame was changed to childish weakness,—but he shed no tear, — he breathed no sigh of regret, and the only words he uttered expressed a fervent wish that his spirit might follow that of his beloved master,—it was Spindle, the coxswain. How he had contrived to get , into the barge and secrete himself was unknown; but it was conjectured that it had been connived at by the prize master on board the Indiaman, who had witnessed the transaction, and respected the motive too much to prevent it. But the closing scene arrived, and Lord Amelius,with that promptitude of feeling which generally marked his , character, decided that the interment should take plau where they then were. The proposition was made to the French officers, who felt the delicacy of the com pliment, and gave their ready acquiescence. 'Wrapped in the ensigns of both countries, the body was securely enclosed in a boat's sail, to which several ballast-bags were attached ; and whilst this was in progress, a fast pulling boat hastened to the Fortunee for the frigate's chaplain. Poor Spindle watched the proceedings with agonized attention, and though the soothing voice of kindness endeavoured to assuage his anguish, yet every effort was unavailing. At last a faint smile played upon his features, and a slight tinge of colour passed over the ashy paleness of his countenance. "My lord," said he, " I feel my anchor is coming home, and I—l wish the worthy clargyman was here. I'm saying I should like to hear him overhaul me a bit, and mayhap he might cast my head the right way, for it is but a sort of blind navigation for a man as knows but little of the marks and beacons. Howsomever, 'tis only carry ing on, and mayhap I may get close in the Captain's wake and then The cable is parting, my lord, — bury me—bury me with—with the Captain ; do, God for ever bless your lordship,—don't—pray, don't part us. I've neither chart nor compass, for Cother world, —none, my lord, none ; and my only chance—don't part us—my only chance—is to keep in his honour's wake. " You shall not be parted, my brave fellow," said Lord Armelius, emphatically, " and if you have any other request to make, rely upon it, as far as it is within my power, it shall be most , religiously at tended to." " God bless your lordship," faintly uttered the dying seaman, as his decaying strength compelled him to rest his head upon the body of his late commander. " God bless you ; I've known him from a boy, and lamed him to,—but no matter. There's only one as 'll grieve for me,—only one. I'm casting, my lord,—but which way my head 'll go ;—well, well ;-I'll not slip my manhood afore the French, howsomever ; but I loved him, my lord,—loved him,—and pleased I am that he has not left me far astarn." The circumstances connected with the situation of the coxswain, and the attachment he bore to his late captain, were explained to the French officers, and every one who witnessed the fading of existence could not avoid shedding those rich drops of tender sympathy which are doubly precious when flowing from bold and daring hearts. " Have you any friend or relative in England to whom you wish to send a communication ?" inquired his lordship. " It is too late, my lord," replied the seaman, " to say much. I have a sister's son,—a good youth, too ; his father was killed in the year of , our Lord,—but I forget the year ; it was in D uncan s action with the Dutch ; he died like a brave man, and Jack Spindle will not disgrace him in his last moments. If your lordship would look upon the boy a bit, it would take a taut strain from my heart." " Where is he to be found ?" inquired Lord Ame lius ; " if he is worthy care, I pledge my word he shall not want." Godbless your lordship, again," saidthe tar, feebly, " I knew you would befriend him ; his name is Thos. Mullion, and--my head is paying off. I'm saying, he's on board the Magnamee. Now, then, I —die content." " Thomas Mullion, on board the Magnanime," re iterated his Lordship, as he wrote the name with a pencil in a small pocket-book ; " and now, my good fellow, is there any thing else ?" No answer was re turned ;-...p00r Spindle lay motionless ; and silence reigned for several minutes, whilst his spirit passed away. " He is gone, my lord," said the surgeon of the Fontunee, who had remained by him from his first ap pearance, and was now employed in closing the poor fellow's eyes ; " there is nothing to prevent his earnest request being complied with, for no power on earth can re-animate his frame." Thus assured, directions were given to prepare the remains of poor Spindle for burial, which was soon accomplished, and the body of the humble coxswain was extended by the side of his late superior : it gale the moral—" Death levels all distinctions." By the time all was in readiness, the chaplain, ar rayed in his canonicals, had reached the barge, and shortly afterwards commenced reading the service for the dead. It was a strange, but solemn scene ; eve n the foppery of Captain Itosewater was laid aside, as the voice of the reverend minister was heard repeating those beautiful and consolatory passages which direct the mind to an hereafter, under the sure and certain hope of a blessed immortality of light and life oa t peace. After the words, " Forasmuch as it hatn pleased Almighty God to take unto himself the souls of our dear broth:en here departed, we therefore commit their bodies to the deep," &c.—the clergyman c eased, and the band played a funeral dirge, as the Capts ins of the two hostile nations raised the dead from the thwarts, and gently consigned them to their ocean grave ; the waters closed over their heads, and t hen rolled on as smooth as ever : the music stopped, the chaplain continued the service to the end, and for seve ral, minutes afterwards the audience remained unmoved' whilst the quivering lips and the fixed eye afforded cer tain indications of secret prayer amongst the English_ i the French, more openly, crossed ,themselves , ann offered up their petitions aloud. DESTRUCTION of the CONVENT of ARANZ VILLA REAL, GUIPUSCOA, AUG. 19. The night before last, the General-in-Chief sent a Pal of troops to burn and raze the magnificent conveatif Aranzazu, situate in the mountains, a league and a Pa" from Onate. This convent has been, from time imm ere t rial, held in reverence as the sanctuary of saints, by.t'iea inhabitants of the four rebellious provinces. It contale e , 100 Franciscan friars. They collected alms throug hout the provinces of Navarre, Biscay, Alava, and Guipusel Many were the wonders performed by these saints, e e kt numberless the devotees who crowded thither yearly. their nod, contributions of wine, and meat and bread, e ° . every necessary and luxury of life, were poured in to t h e e cellars of these holy men. The convent was a co m P let palace ; it contained every comfort that could make a Ta tired life agreeable, and every enjoyment that man o ' l t desire ; they had a magnificent library, and an excelletA. orchestra. These holy men, whose profession is that of sel,lt denial and poverty, wallowed in luxury and idleness. the commencement of the rebellion, they took an aCtil ' * and decided part. Their cellars furnished wine, an d their stores bread and meat, to the rebels. They formed Mag - t : sines of arms and powder within the walls of the eon vell o f They established and directed a press for the official bulletins and proclamations. They even had fall ; in subterranean vaults for making muskets. There vltee, held all the councils of war : in fact, it was the focus °1.,,,ra volt, from whence the spirit of rebellion was kept a live '' , nourished. But the holy fathers must also join the are .i and seventy of their number joined theCarlist forces, lea• e the old monks to keep possessien of the convent, to the the press, and receive information and supplies from to neighbouring provinces. This convent was situate ia ls centre of a rocky mountain, a torrent ran beneath its vo ry an immense wood of mountain oak extended far on e v on e a side ; in fact, it presented the most novel, picturesque, extraordinary appearance that the imagination could eu ere ceive. It was so romantic, so isolated, separated as itl er from the world, in the centre of the most beautiful and litary mountains I ever beheld. The chapel of the cou' ve t was most magnificent, the cells of the monks eleeeers apartments. At nine o'clock at night the party of seleion. destined to set fire to this massy edifice arrived a t the vent. The friars were ordered out, the guardian r eeell an intimation to take away the chalices and other hob , °P r o ments. The statue of the holy Virgin was also carried° of on the shoulders of the monks. In less than a querterad an hour, the altars were broken in pieces, piles of I T° $ were placed in different parts of this vast edifice, an d 14, moment afterwards the whole convent was in a blaze• te s ver did I see a more imposing spectacle, it is one of tu sights that cannot be explained ; the glare of the flanle. a ; luminated the mountains and woods for leagues a r t ° $ the night was dark, and the procession of monks chantls solemn hymn could be distinguished on the verg e °, mountain close to the convent. The soldiers took P e s ol sion of the wine, and sat round the immense boafir e ' m be drank to the health of the Queen, while nothing wa s Dot heard around but now and then the report of a , /11 ,: - /le fired by the Basques in the mountains, to give intel o b e o to the Carlists of some extraordin a ry e ven t baying t t tY place. The monks were marched i nt o O na te this e l° ol ing ; they carried with them the holy Virgin, and terr^ ers l dismay were stamp e d on th e i r coun t enanc es. G en t iot Rodil inflictrza no other punishment on the monks that' e t ar O of burnilig their convent J , and sending them to d ie y e $ convents in distant provinces. I hope this rnaY P r ?b e tst salutary lesson to the clergy of Spain, and convince iO. that although they have hitherto committed crimes Nv' ▪ t t oga punity, the day of retribution has at length come , they will be judged and punished according to the en'"oig of their offences. When we marched out of O nate, morning the convent was still burning, notwithsta nding incessant rain which had been falling all night. " P.S. In the hurry of writing this letter I ha d ° " o t t o x to state in its proper place, that when the soldiers se.aoo" burn the convent had examined the subterraneous loot geons, they discovered a massive iron door, which thl hie, open, and by the light of the lantern they perceiver toe: man being lying on the ground, chained to a ring L as bes l9 in the wall ; he was reduced to a mere skeleton, 13 " a O. hung down to his waist, he was absolutely naked, lote bona. nearly protruded through his skin ; a pitcher o.,,die and a few crumbs of bread lay near him. On be er „Pe: door open, he raised his head, and exclaimed, ' Th. e " you have at last come to put an end to my suffertagec'eier gining that the monks had come to notify his ex ii e e ltb e a When he was asked who and what he was, he inf orm officer of the Queen's troops that he had been ele ve s is" immured in that dark and solitary dungeon ; ti l i at f had been the whole of that time a scanty supp l y hi 7,f and water ; that he had been frequently s courge, a ti e 7i monks to extort confessions of crimes which h e Ps j i tbe j ; committed. His only crime was that of being 3 la during the Constitutional system. When he vg°, l to o t o. 7 he was at liberty, he became frantic with joy , an ' h lig h aeared like a madman. He could not bear the 00 0 day, p and fresh air had such an effect on him that he away the moment he felt its impression. The P eo ' rs ▪ rl doing well ; he has been noted for his superior lit,re quiremenls and unaffected virtue.—Morning d SIGNS OF THE TIMES !—The Jail of Ir be ie fo? been without a single tenant since Friday last I Ir # l that this Jail has not been so long unpeopled..;„d century past.—Scots Times. • BIRTHS. a: On the 6th inst., at Studley Castle, Mrs. r ° of a daughter. itojc sf, On the 3d inst., at Boulogne, the lady of Captain of b ' daug O hter. de ° n the 6th inst., at West Drayton, the lady of fIU. - of Esq., of a son. s .' On the 7th inst., Mrs. John Barber, of Regent' cl°r Jr daughter. On the 7th inst., at Portsmouth, the lady of ~1 $t f i e df Medley, Esq., () of a son. bes t On the Bth inst., in Broad-street-buildings, Bus . -- son, of a son. AO * On the oth inst., at Felbridge, the lady of George , of a daughter. 0 V:11 On the 6th inst., at Clapham-road, Mrs. Jose, Al ,l 1 On the sth inst., Mrs. D o uglas Hodson, East Nvou —i ` el a son. We i On the 7th in s t., a t L e yto n stone House, Essex, t he Brook, Esq., of a son. t r. 4 3 Brook, Esq., of a son. oo r pe. MARRIED. • Ser ii ft o On the 6th i ns t., at Hambledon, Bucks, Francis i n s j, milton, Esq., of the Royal Artillery, to Emma Catlietioclg. fr A , second daughter of Thomas Coventry, Esq., of G r r ee fther ia llr On the 12th ult., John Lassence, Esq. to Mrs. s"-,,daoet 1 relict of the late Joseph Read, Esq., of 11Ior.ningto n - r 0 of Joi s stead-road. r , .c. lisle,:f O s On the 6th inst., at St. Lawrence Jewry, ki• • • mot in s tigny-sur-Avre, Normandie, to Ellen Octavio, daeg- Edward Angles, of Maidstone, Kent. ,_ Jsili es ,he 1/ , ° ,; On the 6th inst., at St. Pancras New Church , Esq., of . -- do Esq., second son of the late Lieutenant-General PaVbter 1 East India Company's Service, to Rosa, second laugh '' o w l> Croft, Esq., Brunswick-row, Queen-squaro f „„ish , A , 1% . 1 i i On the 6th inst., at Norwich, Mr. Jase 5 ''' - pforw - P Cordwainers'-hall, London, to Miss Palms'r, of oy Stansted, Essex. Site lo r e late On the Bth inst., at Clapham Church, 101,_' ii Coleman-street, to Jenny Anna, daughter of u J Azemar, Esq., of Paris. ...,. 0 &A , DIED. On the 30th ult., at Wirksworth, D e rbyshire , C h.- clr 0 4°13 1 in his 76th year. a Ills , or On the 7th inst., at Camberwell, aged 25, .-`) tood4 Hollis Solly, Esq. opt On the 4th inst., at Ely, Geraldine Harriet, i gee," 'O l Thomas Page, Esq. Cber ial ie ' On the 6th inst., at Woolwich-common , lq rs 'b e tb, 11 0 , 11 On the sth inst., at Cambridge-heath, El iza of 1 1 Joseph Bowman, of Budge-row, London. „A 77, On the 6th inst., Mr. George Brown , a g' -- OP. Berkshire. , c . oetlijorb ' On the sth inst., at Hounslow, Frederick "tril ‘' elo a On the 7th inst., at _ l . 3 .:rry--;alc, Sydenharn , 010)' in his 85th year. , Jam e° On the Bth inst., Marianne, wife of I"' OP daughter of Mr. Francis Jolit. ~,,, 9t is ,pt., 1 r London; Printed and Published by Au' •I. Stra lti. at The Sun Offitit, No. 1-4