The Sun. — London, England, 1863-02-05 00:00:00

LITERATURE, Chronicles of Carlingford. Salem Chapel. 2 vole. Blackwood : Edinburgh and London. This work has already proved one of the agree- Coes of Blackwood's Magazine, and many readers will rejoice at this opportunity of reading it in a completed form. It is a book that eminently re pays perusal, containing many scenes of an unusual character, and being written throughout in an ear nest and impressive manner. Vincent, the hero, is a young Nonconformist minister, who does not en gage our interest very deeply at the first, but as we proceed we like him bettcr. He was unfortunate' in the sphere in which he wasplaced and the uncon genial atmosphere that surrounded him in Carling ford. This sad state of affairs, which afterwards became an evil of great magnitude, and finally re sulted in his abrupt withdrawal, is gradually un folded to us, and skilfully introduced. So it is with all the great changes in human affairs ; slowly, sadly, but surely the evil day comes, and some, hoping against hope, would not see its advent, but the presage of its dark dawn had visited many minds before the final crash drove away doubts and dim forebodings, to give place to the certainty of despair and the agony of conviction. Vincent was an excitable, enthusiastic, young man, full of energy, and devoted to a refined existence. lie found himself located among coarse and material natures, with no care beyond narrow confines and limited boundaries, and never heeding about ele vating themselves. When he was carried away with lofty thoughts and high-wrought ideas, their greatest conception was how to fill the chapel. He fondly imagined and ardently desired to lead the hearts of his hearers to the contemplation of the highest good that human thought can take cognisance of, and dwell on the noblest theme that the grandeur of human intellect can comprehend. It was not to be. Besides these trials, there were a hundred daily petty personal annoyances that in tervened, "and weighed his burdened spirit down with the cumbering dust of earth." Carlingford was a very quiet place, but still had some society. Into the elite of this poor Vincent had fancied he must enter. He was thus not prepared, we are told, "to circulate among his flock, and to say grace at Mrs. Brown's teas, and get up services to amuse the con gregation. Somehow the tone of public writing has changed of late days. Scarcely a newspaper writer condescends now to address men who are not " free" of society, and learned in all its ways. the Times and the Magazines take it for granted that all their readers dine out at splendid tables, and are used to a solemn attendant behind their chair. Young Vincent was one of those who accept the flattering inplication. The first " tea" to which he went was a sad blow to the young preacher. After the wretched entertainment, with its pretensions and prejudices, had jarred upon his mind, it is no wonder we are told that " the unfor tunate young mangroaned in spirit, only deeper and deeper humiliation seemed in store for him. Was it he the first prize man at Homerton who was sup posed to be already smitten by the pink charms of Phoebe Tozer ?" This young lady was the daughter of a butterman, one of the chief deacons of the com munity. He was a worthy man, quite a bright particular exception to his fellows, and his honest and steady support was of great service to Vincent, when trouble came in various forms upon him. Even in this dull place, however, Vincent contrived to weave out a romance for himself wherewith to beguile the tedium of his dark days, and to bring fairy land into his prosy life. He met by chance a beautiful young widow, when visiting a peculiar member of his congregation. Lady Western's in fluence irradiated his gloomy path, and the wilder ness of his world seemed to bloom like the rose. "He went home with an unspeakable elation, long ing, and excitement, and at the same time with a vain floating idea in his mind that thus inspired no height of eloquence was impossible to him, and that triumph of every kind was inevitable. He went home and got his writing-desk, and plunged into his lecture, nothing doubting that he could transfer to his work that glorious tumult of his thoughts ; and with his paper before him wrote three words and sat three hours staring into the roseate air, and dreaming dreams as wild as any Arabian tale. Such was the first effort of that chance encounter, in which the personages were not Lady Western and the poor Dissenting minister, but Beauty and Love, perennial hero and heroine of the romance that never ends." Brief, bright, and inglorious was this fitful fever of his mind, for Lady Western thought nothing of him; but out of kindness partly, and partly because he was kind to her humble friend, she noticed him a little with that fascinating manner so few could resist. His first disappoint ment occurred when she asked him to a little sum mer fete at her house. He went there delighted and returned despairing. Lady Western hardly noticed him, and her company imitated her neglect " Nobody wanted him, they stared at him, and asked questions who he was. When he at length nerved himself to speak to his next neighbour, he met with a courteous response, and no thing more. Society was not cruel, or repul sive, or severely exclusive, but simply did not know him, could not make out who he was, and was now talking that conversation of a limited sphere full of personal allusions into which no stranger could enter. Instead of the ineffable hour he expected, an embarrassing unbearable tedium was the lot of thejoor Dissenting minister by himself among the beauty, wit, and fashion of Carlingford.'' This is an apt sketch of the fate of many an unfortun ate individual who finds out too late that there is no solitude so dreary and dis heartening as a crowd, and to be a nobody among sombodies of every shade is a forlorn species and a funereal representation of mirth. Vincent then turned his thoughts to his profession. "This resolution rose and swelled into that heroic region which youth always attains so easily. He accepted Salem with all the heat of passion at that moment. His be the task to raise it and its pastor into a common fame." Fired with this zeal and actuated by this fervour, he produced a series of lectures which shook society in Carlingford to its very foundation. A man of decided ability cannot be in any position of responsibility without making his presence felt, and exhibiting in some form or other his talent. He was misunderstood, unappreciated and finally disliked by the majority, but Vincent had his hour of triumph, he was hailed victor in the contest of aspirants to the favour of the congrega tion, he was crowned in the capitol of Carlingford as their hero, their orator, and their regenerator. In the midst of these excitements a dark page of domestic misery is unfolded, and we are introduced to Vincent's mother. This lady is the most interest ing person of the story. She is genuine, unaffected, and self-restraining. In the time of trial she was calm, when bearing the burden of as bitter a cal amity as could crush a mother's spirit, and weigh.her in the dust, the mysterious loss of her i young and lovely daughter, she was still watchful I over the interests of her son, and careful of many things needed to maintain the dignity of our social position and the general working f othe springs of daily existence. I t is a great mistake to suppose that those possessed of deep feeling cannot think of anything but indulging their selfish sorrow in a time of calamity. The truth is far otherwise and widely different. Those whose flee natures suffer the most acutely are the most capable of self com mand, and is the day of distress they w ill a meet the emergency and rise to the height that is due, not from prostration of mind, but from innate great ness of soul. The world bas done its worst, but it cannot deprive them of a strength that it neither gives nor takes away, the strength that is accorded to those who have overcome the world by their trust in its Maker, and who regard not the frowns or smiles of men as the decisive elements of a struggle in which they put their trust and find their rest in God. Of such a class was Mrs. Vin cent, and no one here met with can excel her in her claims on our respect and reverence. She had not been wise in the confidence that she put in the faithless wretch who had despoiled her home of its treasure, and sa cruelly treated his own family. But then, when the blow had fallen, this timid woman proved herself worthy of being the mother of a minister, and so conducted herself us to win back some of the regard that had been gradually departing from her son. When her son in his im- petuosity scorned her minute attention to trivial matters, how much greater was she in her day of small things than he in his intemperate haste and frenzied complaints. Vincent was not of the stuff of which heroes are made_ He was too easily in fluenced by passing events, too veheu ent in his demonstrations, had too little control ever his pas sions ; but Mrs. Vincent was different—under many another circumstance she would have been called a heroine. As it was, she played a part and ful filled a role that is numerous but little noticed ; powerful for good, it is not synonymous with great ness, few trouble themselves with such lives, and none mourn for such deaths. The nameless martyrs of earth are an unnoticed throng, their sufferings are not sympathised with, nor are their wrongs re dressed ; but this sad earth would be sadder with out them, this dark life gloomier if they existed not, and their recognition, if delayed, will not be denied where alone approval shall be lasting, and the winner can never find his gain turn to loss, nor his treasures prove illusory. The quiet town was in a stir, the secluded lodgings became the centre of attraction, and the simple rooms of Vincent were transformed into the theatre where was enacted en exciting drama, that threatened at one time to be come a tragedy. A romance of real life always outdoes the stage effects in the mind of the looker on, and demure and dowdy Carlingford held up its head in excitement till the nine days' wonder was over. To add to the confusion in the mind of Vin cent, the man who had been engaged to his sister under false pretences was the brother of Lady Western, and the husband of her strange friend, Mrs. Hildyard. Colonel Mildmay was indeed a villain of the darkest and deepest dye; he preyed upon widows and orphans, and cared for no one but himself and the gratifi cation of his base desires and unworthy tastes. To complicate matters still more, he had assumed the name of a man to whom Lady Western had long been attached, Mr. Fordham, and when asking questions of this man's character, as the supposed lover of his sister, Vincent had referred to her, she said he was one to be trusted through life even unto death. Thus encouraged Vincent did not prcceed with the same despatch he might otherwise have done, and the dark mystery took place. The whole of this exciting passage of the story is most artistically sketched forth, and the interest becomes most intense as it proceeds to depict one fearful scene after an other. While Susan was still in danger a new trouble came. The greatest discontent prevailed among the congregation of Salem Chapel, and the direst displeasure arose against their young mini ster, and they resolved to dismiss him. Vincent was equal to the emergency, and met it calm and unmoved. When Tozer came into his pulpit to give notice of a call to a meeting that had been sur reptitiously determined upon, he apprehended the charge as a war-horse sniffs the combat afar, " He rose, with the paper in his hand, and faced the con gregation, where he no longer saw one face, but had suddenly woke up to behold his battle-ground and field of warfare, in which everything dear to him was assailed." He told the people of this meet ing about to be convened for Monday, and then, in his own name, summoned them to a similar assemblage on Tuesday. This was throwing down the gaunt let, not picking it up, and the same spirit sustained him. Though the hostile assemblage did not de cide against him on Monday, still on Tuesday he carried out his purpose and executed his resolve. At the appointed hour he appeared and told the astonished, bewildered, and repentant throng that he was going to leave them, and that he was not minister of Salem from that night. In this hour of voluntary deposition, Vincent came out grand, he called forth the admiration of his friends, and won even the applause of his enemies. He whose short career had been beset 'with conflicts, ended in a burst of triumph. "Half of Carlingford sat in tears to hear Mr. Vincent's last sermon. Such a discourse had never been heard in Salem." So it often occurs in real life, when a man shrinks from an evil, it doubles in proportion and deepens in in tensity, but let him boldly meet it and bravely re sist, and the chances are ten to one that he comes out of the contest more than conqueror. So it proved with our hero, and he prospered more after leaving Salem, which never could have suited him. At the last we are told of some bright prospect in the future to make Vincent's home again bright and his life en joyable. Through the course of these volumes, we find him encircled by cares and encompassed by difficulties; it seems but meet that after our acquaint ance with him is over, other influences, more graci ous and more happy, should preside over his destiny than the sombre spirits that haunted his career at Carlingford. " Salem Chapel" is a peculiar story, that goes out of the common in its way of telling how things occurred and events took place. But the monotony of such details are not at all tedious as they are so admirably exact in their counterpart of real life. Human nature must be faithfully repre sented, or else a story is of no avail. The many diverse and conflicting interests at stake in the quiet little town are brought into juxtaposition with consummate adroitness and great dexterity of plan and purpose. We are shown the evil result of bigotry, the sad effects of passion, the dreadful con sequences of selfishness, and the awful wages of sin. In all these momentous occurrences, there is occasion to notice the good representation of the several characters, and the contrary effects wrought on different persons by the same event. Rachel was maddened to fury, while Mrs. Vincent was calm and dignified. The Salem congregation could not con tain themselves in their impulsive zeal, but their minister met them composed in solemn state. So on through the course of the " Chronicles of Carling ford," now so graphically described, and the ad ventures of "Salem Chapel," which are here recorded in a form that has made them famous. The skill with which the greater part of these volumes has been drawn up will render them attractive studies for those who may not care for a romance, but who will nevertheless be glad to meet with some sketches of individuals that seem to belong to human nature in its foibles and its faith, and to hear of events that may be taking place around us to-day, or have been occuring yesterday, and which are sure to be enacted oft and again during all the to-morrows of this sad and suffering world. New names may be found, but the prototypes for craft and cruelty, passion and prejudice, love and hatred, are all seen not very far off; and this story has achieved a great success in affording us so true a glimpse of life, and so apt an illustration of the conse quences of evil actions. The painful family of sin, more hideous than their queen, attend on the vale of years beneath, and will soon gather in a harvest of death to the delinquent, and also bring sadness to all concerned or connected with him. Colonel Mildmay's wrong was ever present in his wife's misery and his child's affliction, his sister's sorrow and his friend's betrayal. Many pictures appear of a descriptive nature in the course of these pa ges , which may be recommended to those who wish for a solid work of fiction, whose purpose is beyond the amusement of an idle hour, or the pastime of a giddy circle, since it seeks to convey a lesson under the guise of an effective story , and to illustrate an endeavour with the eloquence of earnest language. It proclaims not its meaning trumpet-tongued, but gently whispers with a still small voice of the blessed influence of that spirit of wisdom which leads through ways of pleasantness and peace, until its path becomes bright and brighter in the light of the perfect day. Memoirs of Christina, Queen of Sweden. By Henry Woodhead. 2 vols. Hurst and Blackett. An unusual degree of interest always attaches itself to a youthful Queen Regnant, and this feel ing is naturally heightened when, as in the case of Elizabeth of England and Christina of Sweden, the sceptre of a great kingdom falls into a feminine hand at a crisis of the national history. In both these instances there was no lack of firmness in the grasp or of capacity in the administration, and however much credit may be due to the able coun cillors who surrounded their thrones, it would be unfair to attribute the vigour of Elizabeth or the toleration of Christina exclusively to the influences of Burleigh or Oxenstein. The Swedish princess is said to have attentively studied the character of our English Queen, and possibly to have derived f ro m her the impression that strength of rule must, necessarily be associated with a rough and mas culine manner. But, however similar in other respects, there was certainly one very import ant particular in which the two maiden Queens differed. Elizabeth tantalised her Ministers and people for many years by her reluctance to no minate her successor; she could not endure the thought of relinquishing her dearly loved power. Christina, on the contrary, during the few short years of her reign, was impatient to resign the crown, and declared her intention three years before she actually fulfilled it, although induced to postpone its accomplishment by the entreaties of those around her. Sweden at the time of her acces sion held a very different position in the European scale to what it does now. The fame of Gustavus Adolphus extended throughout the civilised world, Napoleon has since placed him in the very first rank of military commanders, and his death at Lutzen, by postponing the conclusion of the Thirty Years' War exercised a powerful influence on Euro pean politics. His daughter, who inherited his talents and judgment, though not his steadiness, was still in the first years of childhood at his death. His faithful Minister and friend, 0 zenstien, acquitted himself of the trust reposed in him most scrupulously, aided by the rest of the Regency ; and the young princess received an education which left her one -of the most learned women in Europe, and whose only fault was that it taxed too severely her delicate health. Her mother was con sidered incompetent to take charge of her, and in accordance with the wish of the lamented King, Christina was committed to the care of her aunt, who was in every way worthy of the trust. Un fortunately she died when the young princess was just entering her girlhood, committing her family on her death-bed to her niece's favour and protec tion. " Never," says her biographer, "was a dying injunction more faithfully observed than this last. Christina resigned her crown to Catherine's son, and resigned the man she loved to Catherine's daughter." Whether these acts were due to her veneration for her aunt, or to motives of policy, it is certain that Christina deeply felt the loss of the Princess, and was thus deprived of her only judi cious female friend and adviser. But, notwith standing her habitual disregard for the graces of her sex, and her affectation of manly tastes and habits, Christina was not destitute of refinement, as the encouragement she gave to men of arts and letters testifies. Taste and manners were at a very low ebb in Sweden at the time of her accession, and knowledge was not much higher. She did good service to her nation by introducing a better state of things. The uncultivated state of the coun try previously is shown by the fact that two of the most important measures of the Regency were the improvement of the roads and the formation of a regular post. She invited men of learning from France, Italy, and Holland, and every week she held an assembly of the most famous wits and scholars. More substantial benefits were conferred by Christina on her kingdom by her love of peace; she was always slow to engage in conflicts, and ready to come to fair and reasonable terms with an adversary. Her greatest achievement, how ever, was the active part she took in bringing about the the peace of Westphalia. Her anxiety on this point reflects the higher honour upon her, because Sweden was by no means the greatest sufferer in the war, and to some classes it was a positive advantage. It is remarkable that this Peace was the first recognition of that principle of the balance of power which has become so favourite a dogma with modern statesmen. Christina inherited her father's courage and independent spirit. She was well fitted to rule, for the eccentricities that made her ridicu lous in private life did not interfere with her just and wise administration of the affairs of the State. The resolve to abdicate, formed so soon after her coming of age, and declared the year after the ex travagant ceremonial of her coronation, was the more extraordinary when we consider how well adapted her position was to the gratification of her tastes. One of the reasons she assigned for it was her desire to cultivate literature more at leisure, forgetting, as the anther remarks, how much of the ready admiration of men of genius was given to the Queen, not to the woman, however gifted. Another cause is found in the state of the finances, for Christina, however skilful in mathematics, does not appear to have been by any means a good financier. By her first act she had confirmed the alienation of some of the Crown lands by the Re gency, and refusing from a mistaken sense of hon our to reclaim them, the consequence was continual embarrassment. Last, but not, least among her motives was the change in her religion, for though Christina was not one of those who " Threw Crowns for rosaries away; An empire for a cell," yet as the profession of the Catholic faith was for bidden to a Swedish monarch, it undoubtedly had a great influenee over her. Her biographer adds to these the restless desire to do something startling which should increase the admiration felt for her many rare qualities. He is throughout her staunch partisan, admitting her follies and foibles, but de fending her from all graver charges. He asserts that few eminent persons have had less justice done to them by posterity than Christina, for the majority of the lives published have either been " extravagantly hostile, or unreasonably eulogistic." This defect he strives to remedy by a fair and tem perate work, founded on authentic documents. Christina's abdication was neither productive of benefit to her country nor to. herself. " Three kings succeeded her, each of whom possessed great military genius, but their incessant wars impover ished their country, lost the fairest portion of their territory, and reduced Sweden to the position of a third-rate power." The reign of her immediate successor and cousin, Charles Gustavus, which only lasted five years, was an incessant cam paign ; his son, though a prince of great ability, was continually involved in war; while the martial history of Charles XII. is as well known from its misfortunes as its successes. Of the ex-Queen herself her biographer writes—. "There is little doubt that she soon began and never ceased to repent of the step she had taken. Far from enjoying:the coveted repose, she was more than ever absorbed in politics, when she could no longer interfere in them with dignity. Her literary meetings lost half their joyousness from the time that they were no longer her relaxation from the duties of government. She must often have thought of the merry conversations, when the greatest scholars of Europe sought a word or a smile from her." The two most celebrated examples of monarchs laying down their crowns have, says the writer, little in common with hers. Diocletian and Charles V, were exhausted by the fatigues of war and the cares of state. Christina was but twenty eight when she abandoned her sovereignty. She was beloved by her people, and her reign had been singularly successful. The rest of her long life, for she survived her abdication for thirty-five years, she spent chiefly at Rome. She visited France, where she was concerned in the discreditable tragedy of Monaldesehi, and afterwards returned to her native land, where the reception she met with at not x ab It l . notable wasinn the hands o f th e Government affords one of the most s i t n a p n r c ipn e ee s wi of human ingratitude. The Re g ency h principally of the minority Charles had been the recipients of her favour, yet their con duct to the ex-Queen was marked by every possible insult. They issued a proclamation forbidding her the exereise of her religion during her stay, a right they dared not refuse to foreign ambassadors ; they forbade her to be present at any meeting of the States, and announced that it would be necessary ordersroing di s to Stock holm toc thek- to take extraordinary precautions about the young hkolm king's health. h eo es u l r t i h e; met As her she withwas e to dismiss proceeding carria ge t h h e i s gave affront, orders rd e r s and t o QCauteheonlicrpefruiessetdwtheo attended her. The indignant although it was near submitmidnight dnigh t t o prepare tzz for she insptasansteddeparture. through Theeurproeuopnldeedof her country affec tion and re gre t, an d Ch r i st i na w i t hd rew f ro m the with every demonstration of in spite oshfebhad once ruled with the dignity that, daughter of G e her setcacveznt A r i c d i o t l i p e s h , u always T eclllutnhge tKing,"o the she said, in taking leave of the Swedish Count who escorted her, " that my pride will keep me from IRE SUN, LONDON, THURSOAY IWENING, FEBRUARY 5, 1863. complaining, and my patriotism will prevent me from seeking revenge." The best proof that Christina was disappointed in her choice is to be found in her readiness to seek another crown. She was proposed as a candidate for the throne of Poland, rendered vacant by the abdication of her kinsman and con temporary, John Casimir. Strangely enough the same generation witnessed the surrender of the regal dignity by the last heirs of two branches of the great Vasa family. Alas ! for the inconsistency of human nature. Christina resigned a crown which was hers by right, and gave up a position where adulation was her daily fare, to seek vainly another sceptre, and to struggle for the respect and autho rity which had once been her due. The conduct of the Swedish nobles is of a darker dye, and their conduct towards their former benefactress is an in delible disgrace to their memories. It is remarked in Christina's favour that her enemies were gene rally among the most worthless, while her friends of virtue and learning she retained to the last. No doubt her career was chequered by many foibles and eccentricities, but there was much that was noble; and there is little doubt that, from all points of view, she has been represented in extravagant colours. The public has, therefore, to thank Mr. Woodhead for affording them this candid and im partial view of one who, whether from her charac ter, her circumstances, or her conduct, must justly be ranked among the most remarkable women of modern times. LAW INTELLIGENCE—Feb. 4. COURT OF EXCHEQUER. (Sittings at Nisi Prius, at Westminster, before Mr. Baron Bramwell and a Common Jury.) PAYNE V, BARNES. — EXTRAORDINARY CASE OF ASSAULT. This was an action for assault under very peculiar cir cumstances. The defendant pleaded that he committed the assault in self-defence. Mr. Hawkins, Q.C., and Mr. Henry James were coun sel for the plaintiff ; Mr. Sergeant Parry and Mr. F. J. Smith appeared for the defendant. The plaintiff, Mr. Richard Payne, is a contractor at Chat ham. The defendant, Mr. G. Barnes, a manure merchant in the same place. The nature of the case is fully explained by the following evidence : Richard Payne, the plaintiff, said—l am a contractor for discharging ships which arrive in her Majesty's dockyards from different parts of the world, and reside at Chatham. In the course of my business I have to leave home for days at a time. I married my wife 15 years ago. In spring last rumours came to my ears about my wife's conduct with the defendant. I called his attention and my wife's to what I had heard. The defendant strongly denied it. On the 2d Dec., 1862, I left my house to go to London on business. I intended to go by the one o'clock train on the North Kent line. When I arrived at the station I found I had missed the train. There was not another train until three o'clock, and I resolved not to go to London that day. I, however, remained at the station to meet a captain, whom I expected to come from London, but he did not arrive. I returned home at half-past three o'clock. I have no servant. We only keep a little niece, but she was at school at that time. We have no children. Be fore I left home I went up into my bedroom and took £2 out of a drawer for my expenses. The bed was then made, and the window blind up. When I got home I did not see my wife. I called her three times, but she made no reply. I then went into the parlour and sat down. In 5 minutes I heard her coming downstairs. When she saw me she rushed back again. She came down again with some needlework. I then went upstairs to replace the in the drawer. When I opened the bedroom door I found the room very dark and dull. All the bed clothes were chucked in the middle of the floor, and the bed laid open to the tick. The blinds and cur tains were all closed. As I was leaving the drawers I thought I saw the bed clothes shake. It surprised and "stagnated" me. (Laughter.) I looked to see the cause, and on lifting up the curtats I saw George Barnes. The bed was in the cor ner of the room, and he was at the furthest corner of the bed. I called out "George Barnes ;" but he made no an swer. I repeated his name a second and a third time, and he said at last, " Yes, Dick, it is." I went to the top of the stairs and called " Mary Ann." She came up crying. I said to her, " What is that fellow doing under the bed ?" He exclaimed, "For God's sake, Payne, listen I" I knocked him down. He got up, and I knocked him down again. I did this with my fist. I then turned round and struck my wife. Afterwards I received a blow on the back of my head. I turned round and received a cut on my nose and another on my forehead with a pair of tongs which Barnes had taken from the fireplace. He struck with the handle part. A great quantity of blood flowed from the wounds. I received four blows altogether. At the fourth my wife put her arms round my neck and said, "For God's sake, George Barnes, you'll kill my hus band !" I fell down by the window and felt faint and stunned. I shoved my leg through two windows and shouted for help, I rushed downstairs to get a policeman, and I went to a doctor, who lived opposite. Barnes followed me downstairs with the tongs. He then dropped them and ran out. I was under the doctor's care 10 or 12 days. I suffered great pain from the blows, and do now. The skin was cut in three places. Barnes is the deputy landlord of my house. Cross-examined—l have known the defendant since wo were boys. I never heard from my wife that water came into my bedroom, nor that the roof required any repairs. I only struck my wife with my open hand. I and Barnes did not fight for some time before I was knocked down a second time. I did not say to him, " You —, I'll kill you." My wife did not pull me off him, and say, "For God's sake, you'll choke Barnes." I did not put my hand into my pocket, and say, " I'll kill you both." Tho witness added that he had not lived with his wife since. A Clerk in Pickford's office at Chatham said he had seen Barnes at Payne's house scores of times. The surgeon who attended the plaintiff was then exa mined ; after which, Sergeant Parry addressed the jury for the defence, and ;ailed Mr. Barnes, the defendant, who declared that he went up to the room at the request of Mrs. Payne to look at the leak in the roof. He swore that ho had never had any criminal intercourse with her. By Mr. Hawkins—l did not ask Mrs. Payne to show me the leak. In fact, I did not know there was one (Laughter,) Re-examined—After I had been to the solicitor's office I received the letter produced, dated 7th April, from Penny, who had circulated the rumour about me and Mrs. Payne. In it he states that the words were uttered in passion, and that he apologised for them, and would not repeat them again. This apology was sent to Payne's house, and came while both were there. Evidence was then given to prove the repeated visits of the defendant to the plaintiff's house while the husband was away. George Penny said that in April his wife called him up stairs in the evening, and on looking out of the window he saw the defendant kissing Mrs. Payne at the back door. Mrs. Penny opened the window and called out, " That is beautiful, lam sure." (Laughter.) Mr. Barnes then tripped lightly up High-street, and Mrs. Payne scampered away like a frightenedcat. (Laughter.) In February I overheard the following conversation between them at the back door. Barnes said, " I watched him down the street. I would not tell you a lie ; you know I would not." After that I heard a kiss and some caressing sounds. All the words I heard Mrs. Payne say were, " You always do that." (Laughter.) Barnes said, " You will break my heart—that you will." Then he said he could not sleep all night for thinking of her, but having seen her he felt much better. I also heard him say that if it were not for his family he would run away with her. I told Mr. Barnes what I had seen, and he gave notice to quit. Mrs. Penny corroborated the evidence of her husband, and said she thought the kissing on the evening when she opened the window and called out was a very disgusting sight. (Laughter.) She said so because the defendant was a married man. Other evidence of familiarities between the defendant and Mrs. Payne was given, and it was also proved that at the time of the assault there was no leak in the bedroom, or any sign of water having come in. The learned counsel having addressed the jury for their respective clients, Mr. Baron Bramwell, in summing up, said the only two questions were whether the defendant was justified in com mitting the assault, and if so, whether he had used any excess of violence. The plaintiff was entitled to their ver dict if the beating was not in self-defence, or was more than was necessary for that purpose. They had not to consider whether the defendant was in the house for the purpose of committing adultery with Mrs. Payne, or for any other unlawful object, because in either case the plaintiff had no right to beat him, and if he did beat him the defen dant was justified in defending himself. Though that was the law, still if they thought their verdict should be for the plaintiff, and believed that he found the defendant in a situation which left no doubt that he had committed adul tery with his wife, and did no more than fell him to the ground, they ought to give him damages with no niggard hand. The jury retired, and after a brief deliberation found a verdict for the plaintiff—Damages, £2OO. COURT OF PROBATE AND DIVORCE. (Before Sir C. Cresswell.) THE COUNTESS OF LIMERICK V. THE EARL OF LIMERICK. Dr. Wambey conducted the case for the petitioner. This was a suit promoted by the petitioner for judicial separation on the ground of her husband's adultery, and there was no defence. Dr. Wambey, in opening the case, said that the marriage was solemnised at Nor:olk Island. The ceremony was per formed by a clergyman of the Church of England, and he cited the case of Cotterell v. Cotterell to show that mar riages such as the present were to be considered valid when they were followed by reputed cohabitation. Sir C. Cresswell said the question was whether he could take cognisance of the colonial law relating to marriage. Dr, Wambey, having referred to an act passed by the ... ~ _ New South Wales Legislature, in reference to legalising marriage in that colony, called— Capt. N. P. Horsley, who said—l am the father of the petitioner, and am an unattached captain of the 96th Regi ment of Foot. In 1842 I was staying with my regiment at Norfolk Island. I knew the Earl of Limerick, who was at the time holding a Government situation there, On the 6th April, 1842, I was present at the marriage of Lord Limerick to my daughter in a building used for the purpose of mar riage in the island. Divine service vas usually held there for civilians ; for the troops it was held in the barracks. Sir C. Cresswell said it does not appear to have been con secrated ground. The witness continued—The ceremony was performed by the late Mr. Naylor, a clergyman of the Established Church, and according to the rites and forms of the Church of England. I have not seen any marriage performed there since, but I understand that the marriage of the daughter of the then Governor was solemnised in the same building. After the marriage I remained a very short time in the island, and left Lord Limerick and any daughter there. They were reputed man and wife in the island. (Here a certificate of the marriage was produced, and the witness identified the hand writing as that of Mr. Na3lor. Sir C. Cresswell—Can you show me that any register was kept ? Dr. Wambey—l cannot. Sir C. Cresswell—This is merely a declaration of mar riage. Witness continued—Lord Limerick and my daughter re mained about two years at Norfolk Island after the mar• riage. They then went to Ditcham Park, in Hampshire. There are six sons and one daughter issue of the marriage. Emma Snelling said she was the wife of John Snelling, and lived at 7, Burlington-villas. In 1861 and 1862 she lived at 15, Cumberland-terrace, Westbourne-road, Bays water. A woman lodged in her house named Garrald, who, she understood, was married but did not live with her hus band. She remembered a gentleman who called himself Colonel Fielding coming to visit her lodger frequently. He slept in the house and occupied the same bedroom as Mrs. Garrald. He continued his visits for about eighteen months, and in 1862 Mrs. Garrald went by the name of Fielding. She had seen the gentleman who went by the name of Col. Fielding at the Grosvenor Hotel. She was told he was the Earl of Limerick, and she addressed him as "My Lord." On the 27th of last month she went accom panied by a female named Elizabeth Hull to Tenby, in Wales, and she saw the Earl of Limerick there again. He was the gentleman who slept at her house. Elizabeth Hull said she was a servant of Mr. Hill, the solicitor of Lady Limerick, and she had known her and Lord Limerick for the last few years, as they were in the habit of visiting at her master's. She went with the last witness to Tenby, and they saw Lord Limerick there, Lately she saw Lady Limerick also in her presence. Mrs. Snelling was recalled and said that Lady Limerick was not the female that Lord Limerick used to visit at her house. This was the petitioner's case. Siz C. Crcsswell said he must consider the case before de. livering judgment. Dr. Wambey applied to the court for an order respecting the children, who were at present in the custody of the Vice- Chancellor. Sir C. Cresswell said that they must remain in his (the Vice-Chancellor's) custody for the present. POLICE INTELLIGENCE---Yesterday. BOW-STREET. THE RIGHT TO SEATS IN A THEATRE.—Mr. William Wray, who described himself as a gentleman, and whose appearance certainly accorded with that description, was charged with creating a disturbance at the Theatre Royal New Adelphi. Mr. W. Smith, the acting manager, stated that on Tues day evening, in the early part of the performance, he was informed that there was some dispute about the seats in the pit stalls. On proceeding to the spot, he found that the defendant, who was accompanied by two ladies, had taken possession of three centre seats in one of the front rows. A party of three, who had tickets bearing the numbers of those seats, wished to go to their places, but the prisoner refused to give way. Witness called the prisoner's attention to the numbers on those tickdts, and asked to see the prisoner's tickets, in order to ascertain the numbers and show him and his party to their proper seats. The prisoner refused to stir, though the two ladies, his friends, endeavoured to per suade him to do so. Witness then requested him to re move to the seats indicated by the numbers on his tickets, and as the prisoner persisted in his refusal, witness called the police officer on duty in the house to remove him. The prisoner said that no " bobby" should take him out of his place, and on the constable proceeding to remove him he resisted so violently that it was found necessary to call in another constable to help. So much disturbance was created that it was found necessary to stop the perfor mances until the prisoner was removed, and Me. Webster felt it to be his duty to direct that the prisoner should be given into custody. It was painful to Mr. Web ter to take this course, and still more so to press the charge before the magistrate, but Mr. Webster felt that it was incumbent on him not only to provide proper accommo dation for the public, but to protect the public in the en joyment of that accommodation. The seats being numbered, visitors were entitled to expect that they should obtain the seats indicated by the numbers on their tickets. This ar rangement would be utterly futile if gentlemen like Mr. Wray were permitted to usurp any seats they pleased, leav ing those who held the numbers of those seats to shift as they might. But if anything could be worse than this, it was that a gentleman should create such uproar in the house as to prevent the entire audience from attending to the per formance, and compel the entire stoppage of the perform ance, to the annoyance of every individual in a crowded house. Mr. Henry—Was tho prisoner under the influence of liquor ? Mr. W. Smith—Certainly not, sir; he was perfectly sober. The prisoner said that the reason he refused to leave the seats was that he wished Mr. Smith to prove to him that they were reserved. If not, he thought that he was as well entitled to them as any one else. When the performance began, he said, " I am very comfortable ; I don't care about moving." Mr. Henry said it was quite clear that the seats were re served. As all the seats were numbered, they were in fact all reserved seats. It was an admirable arrangement for the public convenience that all the seats should be num bered, so that every person could go at once to the number indicated on his ticket, without any squabbling or any rush for places. But the advantage of that arrangement would be entirely nullified if even one person was allowed to in fringe it. The prisoner said he wanted to be convinced that those seat had been engaged prior to his arrival. If they had been engaged after he came, he thought he had as good a right to them as any one else. Mr. Henry could not understand how the prisoner could have been under any such misapprehension. His tickets being numbered entitled him to the seats corresponding to those numbers. It would be difficult to devise an excuse for his attempt to take wrongful possession of other seats to which he was clearly not entitled, and to maintain that pos session by force. Probably he did so under an impression that force would not be used to dispossess him. If so, that motive was no more creditable to him than the act of usur pation itself. The prisoner said if he had been asked to leave the house he would have done so. He was only asked to change his seat. Mr. Henry—Surely, Mr. Wray, you cannot make it a grievance that you were not ordered out of the house, which would have been unnecessary and unreasonable ; but only asked to go to your own place, which was just and proper. I really think that, apart from the law, your own good taste and regard for tho convenience of others ought to have guarded you against such misconduct. Mr. Wray—l admit that I forgot my charecter of a gen 3man. Mr. Henry was glad to hear that admission. But the public really must be protected. The prisoner was liable to a fine of £5, or even to imprisonment without the option of a fine. He would not go that length. He would fine the prisoner in the mitigated penalty of M. The fine was paid. REPRESENTATION OF DEVONPORT.—PLYMOUTS , Wednesday, One a.m.—Sir Frederick Grey, one of the Lords of the Admiralty, has just arrived by train from London, to canvass the borough of Devonport for the seat vacant by the retirement of Sir Michael Seymour. Mr. Bousfield Ferrand, the Conservative candidate, arrived yesterday afternoon. A sharp contest is expected. OLDSTERS AND YOUNGSTERS.—There are games which are becoming to particular periods of life. I remember in the days of our youth, when my friend Arthur Bowler was an eminent cricketer. Slim, swift, strong, well built, he presented a goodly appearance on the ground in his flannel unif orm . Militasti non sine glo !la, Bowler my boy I Hush 1 We tell no tales. Mum is the word. Yonder comes Charley, his son. Now Charley his son has taken the field, and is famous among the eleven of his school. Bowler, senior, with his capacious waistcoat, &c., waddling after a ball, would present an absurd object, whereas it does the eyes good to see Bowler, junior, scour ing the plain—a young exemplar of joyful health, vigour, activity. The old boy wisely contents himself with amuse ments more becoming his age and waist, takes his sober ride, visits his farm soberly—busies himself about his pigs, his ploughing, his peaches, or what not. Very small routiniers amusements interest him ; and thank goodness) na ture provides very kindly for kindly-di spose d fogies. We re lish those things which we scorned in our lusty youth. I see the young folks of an even i ng kindling and glowing over their delicious novels. I l oo k up and watch the eager eye flashing down the page, being, for my part, perfectly contented with my t wa dd l i ng old volume of Howell's Letters or the Gentleman's Magazine. I am actually ar rived at such a ca l m frame of mind that I like batter pud ding. I never should have believed it possible, but it is so. Yet a little uhile ' and I may relish water-gruel. It will be the age of men Tait de poule et mon bonnet de nuit. And then—the cotton extinguisher is p u lled over the old noddle, and the littl e fl ame of life ifs popped out.—lhackeray in the Cornhill for February, SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS. TIMES.—If the usage of a few years still pre vailed, we should this morning present our readers with the Speech from the Throne, slightly varied in language and amplified by our remarks. But the custom of communicating beforehand to the Press the words of the Sovereign on the only occasions when she addresses the nation in person has been reasonably discontinued, and we, therefore, without pretending to predict what will be said, ale content to take a survey of the national position, and point out the light and shade on the prospect before us. Happily, the light largely predominates. The very fact that a Queen's Speech is not in these days a matter of interest; that no stubborn aristocracy, no timid mercantile class, no angry multitude is wait ing with anxious ears for the announcement of a Ministerial programme, is in itselfa blessing. Any political storm must be a sudden and abnormal phenomenon. No set of statesmen, no unduly powerful class, are expecting to reap the whirlwind as the reward of what they or their forefathers have sown. The Session begins without the foreboding of a conflict; with hardly the promise of a measure. The keen intellects of the Chancellor and his sub ordinates may have been employed during the recess in framing new simplifications of our anomalous laws, and their labours may result in useful addi tions to the Statute-book; but, unless they affect such popular subjects as a marriage law, the lay public can hardly be brought to take en interest in legal Bills. These schemes of technical legisla tion remain beyond the sphere of public curiosity, and generally of Royal notice. Of more exciting domestic subjects there is a complete absence. The name of Parliamentary Reform is never heard. The Church Rate discussion is little more than an oppor tunity for the two parties of an evenly-balanced House of Commons to show the gains and losses of the preceding twelvemonth. The usual crop of annuals in the shape of the Ballot and a number of little bills in some way connected with ecclesiastical grievances will spring up and live their life of a day ; but of regular political measures to be proposed and opposed, debated, and divided upon, we know none. That there will be something done, and that by the middle of August some hundred Acts of Parliament will have become the law of the land, must of course be believed. But we foresee it onlywith the eye of faith. All our thoughts are, in fact, directed to what is passing beyond the limits of these realms. Her Majesty in her Message may congratulate or con dole, but she will in most cases refer to the acts of foreign nations, their civil wars, and their revolu tions ; the ambition of one, the weakness and decay of another, and the prospect of their one day learn ing wisdom and imitating the prudence and self-re straint of her own people. Among the most legiti mate subjects of congratulation will be the bearing of the nation under the heavy trial of the cotton famine. Though all is not over, yet we may fairly believe that the worst has passed. Within five years the two great calamities which, as long as we can remember, the world has been predicting as cer tain to prostrate the power of Britain have come upon us, and the old ship has weathered both storms. The Indian mutiny established anew our power in Asia ; the shutting of the cotton ports by an Ame rican war has but shown the possibility and the ne cessity of becoming free from dependence on one foreign nation. But the courage with which dis tress hasbeen borne, and the munificence with which it has been relieved, are still more worthy subjects of Royal comment. As if to contradict all the theories of desponding philosophers, the population of the towns, which, from its numbers and its sup posed principles, has always been viewed with sus picion, has given the most perfect example of good behaviour under sudden privation, and the events of the past year have united class to class in a mutual confidence which could never have been formed in the sunshine of prosperity. With respect to the two communities whose unhappy feud has been the cause of these sufferings, what can an English Queen do except utter a fervent hope that their passions may soon be allayed so far as to permit reason and humanity to be heard Any thing more than the vaguest expression of good wishes would probably be viewed with anger by the sen sitive community on whom the continuance of the war depends. But it is certainly a cause of just satisfaction to the nation that no act of its own has embittered the contest, and that from first to last its almost unanimous opinion has been in favour of peace. Many are the subjects relating to foreign nations which might deserve a place in the Message. The expedition of the French to Mexico, the conso lidation of Italy, the renewed struggles of unhappy Poland, are matters on which the country would like to hear something, though Ministerial pru dence may think it better to disappoint its curiosity. But there is one interestiug event a reference to which cannot be omitted. Since the last session of Parliament ended a crown has been offered by the Greek people to the second son of our Queen. All the world has felt that the election of Prince Alfred, so enthusiastic and unanimous, was a sin cere tribute to the English character and policy, as well as to the constitutional principles of her Ma jesty's House. Although circumstances seem not to allow the Prince to accept, yet the Queen can not but express a hope for the prosperity of the Greek kingdom, and her satisfaction that the crown is likely to be taken by a near connection of her own, a Prince distinguished not only by his high Euro pean station, but by his ability, his attainments, and his proved constitutional principles. The true chord, however, will be struck should her Majesty's Message contrast, not in boasting and presumption, but with real thankfulness to Providence, the peace ful state of this Empire with the troubles of the greatest States in both hemispheres. The heir to this world-wide Sovereignty is about to contract his marriage of affection at a time when the vast dominions which he will one day be called to govern are in profound tranquillity. No political discon tent, no serious quarrel of race, or class, or caste, exists in all this system of communities. But be yond the limits of the British Empire all is diffe rent. There is nothing but war and civil dissen sion; Kings falling from their thrones, or tempting fate by blind provocations of their subjects; republics destroying themselves by internal war, or wasting away by misgovernment and the decay of their people. What is the state of Russia and Poland ; of Turkey, still distracted by Christian seditious ; of Prussia, where Charles Stuart and his Parlia ment seem to have come on the stage again; of Austria, which can neither conciliate nor coerce two of her chief provinces ; of Italy, where the old monarchies have left many a legacy of trouble ? England alone stands free from the solicitude of any domestic quarrel or any foreign war. The declaration of the Sovereign that she is at peace with all Foreign Powers rises on this occasion above the usual commonplace. It is, indeed, a triumph of administration that in the midst of all these commotions we, who have interests in every part of the globe, are at peace with every one. While asserting our just rights wherever they have been denied or violated, we have so far combined self-respect with moderation that the country has at this moment no enemy in the world, and may soon reap by diminished imposts the benefit of its just policy. HERALD.—We all remember with what quaint and strenuous frankness Thomas the Rhymer pro tested against the proffered kiss of the Queen of Faerie, which was to give him " the tongue that could never lie." If any malicious sprite could con fer upon the present Cabinet the gift of involuntary veracity, we conceive that the Speech which will this day be delivered in the name of their Royal mistress would be the most damning record of Minis terial crimes and follies that ever was presented to a scandalised Parliament. It could refer to nothing creditable in the past ; to nothing hopeful in the future. It must acknowledge a series of abortive conspiracies and detected intrigues—conspiracies against the Church and the Constitution, entered into solely with a view to keep together a disor ganised party and sustain a Government divided against itself ; intrigues which seem to have had for their sole object the dishonour of the country in the eyes of the world and of her rulers in the eyes of their countrymen. her Majesty's Com missioners would have to inform Parliament that the career of the Ministry has been, even in th e i r own opinion, one of defeat, failure, and discredit from first to last, and that there is not the slightest reason to suppose that its termination will be one whit less inglorious to themselves or less mis chievous to the country; that they have betrayed their principles without conciliating their partisans, and sacrificed their honour without securing their offices; that they have attacked the Church with out winning the confidence of the Dissenters, and endeavoured to undermine the constitutional bal ance of power without thereby confirming the wavering allegiance of the Radicals; that they have insulted the Pope without contriving to ingratiate themselves with any Protestant adversary, except Mr. Steuart, of Cambridge, and won the lasting hatred of the Catholics without shaking the firm adherence of the Orange party to the Conserva tives; that they have completed the ruin of that Liberal Coalition which was so laboriously pieced together in 1859; that they have lost the confidence of their friends while they have justified the dis trust and embittered the antagonism of their adver saries ; that they keep their hold of power only by sufferance, and have no idea of using it for any other purpose save that of keeping it. But heartily must they congratulate themselves that on this sub ject they are not obliged to speak the whole truth. They need not say how they have insulted the country from which the Prince of Wales has chosen his bride, and the Royal head of the family which confers almost as much honour as it receives in this happy connection. They are not compeller to dwell on the deliberate and wanton affront they have put on Denmark; on the advice given to a friendly and most respected Sovereign to dismember his own ancestral dominions in compliance with the insolent and utterly unfounded demands of an encroaching neighbour ; and on the imperti nent lecture addressed to him when he civilly but decidedly declined to follow that unwar rantable and pernicious counsel. It is possible that Lord Russell is not ashamed of this exploit ; but we hardly give his colleagues credit for so much insensibility. And yet they must let the Foreign Secretary have his two or three paragraphs of self gratulation, and on what are those paragraphs to touch ? Will they announce the preservation of that cordial understanding with France of which Lord Palmerston was so proud, and which has been so strikingly manifested in Italy and in Mexico? Will they express satisfaction that we have not been involved in war with the United States by any rash attempt to assert the honour of our flag and the immunity of our ports, and take credit for the prudence of the Ministry in forbearing to join in any endeavour to restore peace to America and prosperity to Lancashire Are we to be congra tulated on the success of our diplomacy in Italy, which has resulted in confirming, for an indefinite period, the French occupation of Rome, or on the fortunate but inevitable failure of the strange in trigue which was to have brought the Pope as our pensioner to Malta P Or will Lord Russell com placently refer to a subject which makes every honest Englishman blush with patriotic shame— such shame as Englishmen have not had occa sion to feel since England was a nation— the infamous outrage offered to the high-spirited, enlightened, honourable, and most friendly Government of Brazil ? What, indeed, can he say of which we shall not be ashamed to hear ? Will he boast of the inextricable difficulties in which he has involved us in China, where a chronic state of warfare seems to be the inevitable consequence of a Whig Government in England ; or of the disre putable quarrel with Mexico, or the still more dis reputable fashion in which we have backed out of it P What is there of which he dare speak, unless it be of the happy prospect of getting rid of our dis contented subjects in the lonian Islands, and of our power in the Eastern Mediterranean, by a sacrifice which has the peculiar merit of injuring everybody except those who may hope to avail themselves of it to the injury of others; and of the intrigue which resulted in the choice by Greece of a King who never could have been allowed to accept the Throne, and whose election, therefore, should have been at once rendered impossible by a frank and honest de claration that he would not accept it ? We must expect to read the Royal Speech to-day with less indifference and more indignation than such a docu ment can ordinarily provoke. But we may console ourselves that it will be very long before bar Majesty's present advisers will again have the chance of addressing the nation in their Sovereign's name. We cannot believe that those who have so signally dishonoured themselves and their country will be allowed further opportunities of exercising their talents to serve the enemies, to alienate the allies, to imperil the interests, and to sacrifice the dominions of England. COUNTRY MARKETS. . .4. LYNN—TUESDAY. White ..50s to 53s I 8ar1ey...... 38s to 41s ..49s to 51s grinding ...... ..32s to 33s Beans .34s to 39s Oats.. New —s to —s Peas —s to —s HULL—TUESDAY. A poor supply of English wheat to-day at market, which again met a slow sale at about last week's currencies. Fo reign neglected. Barley for malting sold atfully late rates ; grinding in limited sale. Oats, beans, and peas were un altered. Wheat.... Old white per qr. 5OB Od to 53s Od Old red )1 New white .. „ New red .... „ Dantzic Keith , &c. old white 52s Od to 578 Od Dutch, Belgian, and French. 58s Od to 62s Od Baltic and Hamburg, red. . 498 Od to 51s Od St. Petersburg and Riga, old. 50s Od to 52s Od Barley.... English malting 3ls Od to 38s Od Grinding 3OB Od to 33s Od Saal and Oderbruck Holstein and Danish 2Bs Od to 29s Od Grinding 2Bs Od to 31s Od Oats English, old 26s Od to 288 Od Archangel and Riga, per at Osl2ld to 13d Friesland and Dutch oBl3d to 08130 Swedish and Danish oBl2ld to 0613 d Beans ....English, old, per qr. . 4ss Od to 46s Od New pigeon 42s Od to 418 Od New tick. 4OB Od tc 42s Od Egyptian 34s 6d to 35s Od Peas Foreign boilers ... 36s Od ti. 38, 6d Grinding Tares ....Spring —s Od to —s Od Indian Corn Linseed, feeding crushing Linseed cakes (Hull) £lo 5 0 to £lO 10 0 Foreign Bl5 oto 9 0 0 Rape cakes 6 5 oto 610 0 Bones 5 5 oto 610 NEWARK-WEDNESDAY. White wheat new, 53s to 56s Barley, grinding.. 30s to 33s Red do. 4Bs to 52s Oats, old, .. 27s to 30s Old white sBs to 63s New do 22s to 25s Red do.. 55s to 59s Beans. 42s to 440 Barley, malting... .38s to 42s Beans, new 36s to 40s Peas 44s to 48s. [ADVERTISEMENT.]—HoIIoway's Pills—Despondency. Low Spirits.—The misery occasioned by disordered diges tion is unfortunately felt by many, known to every one. Holloway's Pills should be taken to restore health ; they dispel headache, biliousness, nausea, lowness of spirits, and s i m il ar symptoms, which indicate the presence of poisonous matter or perverted action. A course of these invaluable purifying Pills never fails in removing the causes and con sequences of these morbid signs without subjecting the sutferer to any disagreeable restrictions of diet or ordinary pursuits. They strengthen the stomach and brace the nerves. Holloway's fills are peculiarly adapted for reno vating systems enfeebled by late hours, hard living, over anxiety, or any other excess which is known to debilitate and exhaust the human constitution. Births. BIDDULPH.—On the Ist inst., at 27, Park-street, Grosve nor-square, the wife of R. Myddleton Biddulph, Esq., of Ist Life Guards, of a daughter. BRINISON.—On the 3d inst., at St. John's -wood, Mrs. Brimson, of a daughter. ELLEN,—On the 4th inst., at 2, The Villas, Erith, Mrs. Edward Ellen, of a son. Marriage s . mE i Richmond, t o Ware, He r t s , inst., —REEVE.:— . On the 3d iat S. John's Church, William Mello, Esq., of Chadwell, near to Fiances Mary, eldest daughter of Sir ThomasNewby Reeve, o f Ri chmond, Surrey. DUNCAN—CAMPBELL.—On the 3d inst., at St. James's, Pi c cadilly, Barthol omew A. Duncan, physician, Upper Gower-street, Bedford -square, to Emma, elder daughter of the late Colonel A. Campbell, of the 3d Bengal Light Cavalry. Deaths. BEVERLEY.—On the Ist inst., at 26, Russell-square, HY• Roxby Beverley, Esq., comedian, aged 67. FREELING.—On the 3d inst., at Chandos-place, Clifton, Heneage, youngest 8611 of the late Sir George Hen r y FrEeling, Bart., aged 23. HALE. —On the 2d inst., at 65, Paddington-street, R o bert Hale, aged 56. LOWE.—On th e 3 d i nst., at Thames Ditton, Mr. J. Lov e, aged 34, 801 INEs.—On the 3d i ns t., at 55, Rupert-street, HaYnin" ket, Wm. H. S ounes, aged 63. London • Printed and Published by WILLIAM ANDREWS' of No. 112, Strand, Printer, at THE SUN °Mee , No. 112, Strand, in the Precinct of the Savoy, in the County of Middleeez.—Thursday, February 601301 f -- I