The Sun. — London, England, 1864-04-04 00:00:00

SPORTING INTELLIGENCE, GRAND NATIONAL HUNT STEEPLECHASES AT MELTON MOWBRAY. 'When at the commencement of this year the idea of a National Hunt Steeplechase was mooted under the auspices of Lord Grey de Wilton, Mr. W. G. Craven and Mr. B. T. Angell, having as its distinguishing speciality the induce ment held out to the tenant farmers of this county to enter into a friendly rivalry with each other, and exhibit at the post the pick of the various Hunts, it met with but little short of universal approbation. The patent fact, disagree able as it was to admit, that our breed of hunters was dete riorating, and the demand for good horses consequently far beyond the supply, was u nquestionable. Taking an example from Ireland, where a large sum is annually given at the Kildare Hunt Meeting to encourage the breeding of first class hunters, and in which pursuit, as our racing annals show, the sister isle is eminently successful, the promoters of the scheme have sought to remedy the evil here by the same means, and by calling on the various Hunts to con tribute, admitting the tenant-farmer at half the ordinary stake, and allowing him to carry less weight, have paved the way to remove what was rapidly becoming a national stigma. Foremost among the subscribers was the Prince of Wales, while the Duke of Beaufort, the Duke of Grafton, Lord Yarborough, Lord Curzon, and most of our leading M. F. H., entered warmly into the scheme. The result of the first attempt has been most gratifying. At the little village of Burton Lazarus, about two miles from Melton Mowbray, and in the heart of the modern Quora country, was assembled en Saturday last a gathering of sporting men in the truest acceptation of that much-abused word, together with a vast concourse of the general public such as no steeplechase fixture has ever succeeded in collecting. Pitched on a rising ground facing the straight run in, the Stand, crowded with ladies, afforded as fair a view of the four-mile course as the nature of it would admit. The day was brilliantly fine, and the ground in admirable order. Fifty horses were entered on the card for the great event —" The Grand National Hunt Steeplechase of 10 soya each, 5 soya for tenant farmers, with 250 added," of which 28 came to the post ; and there is reason to believe the number would have been increased by another dozen but for the rather formidable appearance of the brook, which daunted many. Not that it was anything out of the way in breadth, but the taking off and landing were both bad, it had to be cleared twice, and it was pretty generally felt it was not a jump which a horse towards the close of a four-mile hard 'gallop should be called upon take. With this exception, and this, in our opinion, only applies to the situation of the brook, there was nothing to complain off. The start was a magnificent sight. A very fine and even lot of horses faced Mr. Craven, who officiated on the occasion. All the cele brated amateurs of the day were in the saddle, together with many aspirants as yet unknown to fame. In the gleam of silk and satin, the bright colours dazzling in the sun's rays, they swept down the course to the dreaded brook, into which some half-dozen immediately fell, throwing up jets of water as they splashed in and scattering the spray in showers—a sight, by the spectators at least, much relished. Up the hill went the others with varying fortune, Cooks boro' and Lord George—t)ie latter steered by a deaf and dumb rider—lying in front most of the way. We need not dwell on what is fully described in its proper place. Cooks boro' came in an easy winner. Lord George, with the re putation of being much the better horse, bolting out of the curve at the top of the hill, and damaging his chance thereby. Most of them fenced magnificently. There were no casualties, and it was felt that the first " Grand National Hunt" had achieved a most decided success. Five other events were decided, but they do not call for any special comment. Among the occupants of the Stand were the Earl and Countess of Chesterfield, Maria Marchioness of Ailesbury, Earl and Countess of Cardigan, Earl and Countess of Wil ton, Earl Grosvenor and Lady Constance Grosvenor, Lord and Lady Curzon, Mr. G. and Lady Mary Craven, the Ladies Craven, Lord and Lady Ingestre, the Marquis of Hastings, the Earl of Coventry, the Earl of Westmoreland, the Earl of Uxbridge, Lord Grey de Wilton, Lord and Lady Walter Scott, Hon. G. Fitzwilliam, Col. Hon. J. Macdonald, Count Batthyany, Lord Andover, Lord Bateman, Lord Canterbury, Lord Forester, &c. A Match of 25 sovs each, p.p. Last two miles of Grand National Hunt Steeplechase Course. Mr S. B, Sher, rd's Workman, 125 t.... (Captain Smith) 1 Viscount Andover's The Sphinx, 12st (Owner) 2 Betting-6 to 4on The Sphinx, who took a clear lead at starting, and came over the first three fences some half-a dozen lengths in advance, but as they approached the large piece of ploughed land by the bend in the Burton road, on reaching the fence, The Sphinx ran into it, and on being put at it a second time she fell and unhorsed his lordship, who was soon remounted; the mistake gave his adversary a long lead, which he retained to the brook, inte which he jumped, but the bottom being sound it enabled Captain Smith to clear the fence beyond, with the loss of his stirrup, without loss of his seat, and he cantered in alone. The Sphinx, who came on a long way in the rear, cleared the water in brilliant style. The Farmers' Stakes, a sweepstakes of 3 soya each, with 50 eovs added for the first, 15 sovs for the second, and 5 soya for the third horse, for regular horses that have been regularly hunted with the Belvoir, Quorndon, Cottesmore, or Mr Tailby's hounds. Weight for age. The winner of the Farmers' Plate at Crsxton-park 51b extra. To be ridden by farmers. About three miles. 14 subs. Mr G. March's, jun., Fred, aged, 12st 71b (Mr Coleman) 1 Mr R. H. Griffin's Myrrhina, 5 yrs, list 71b (0 wner) 2 Mr J. Perkin's, jun., Volunteer, aged, 12st 71b (Mr Ward) 3 Mr John B. Leadbetter's Deception, aged, 12st 71b (Mr Fisher) 4 The following also ran:—Bandoline, Edwin, Fores'„er, Give him a Name, Lottery, and Meteor. Betting-4 to 1 agst Edwin, sto 1 agst Giv Name, 100 to 15 each agst Myrrhina and Volunteer, and 5 to 2 agst Deception and Bandoline coupled, The lot got away at the first attempt upon equal terms, but widely spread, Forester on the extreme left, in company with Give-him-a-Name, Huntsman, Edwin, and others in close pursuit, all getting safely over; and immediately after each selected his place as they raced down to take the water jump, which was reached first by Forester and Give-hiin- a- Name, who jumped short. Volunteer followed close in track, but striking the post and rails on the taking off-side heavily ho sent his rider into the air like a cricket ball, but 'who was soon remounted. These mistakes created great confusion, which became worse confounded as each failed in succession to clear the water, each successive immersion being received with deafening cheers by the thousand look ing on. During the confusion Forester, close up with whom was Fred, being the first out, was seen a long way in ad vance of Edwin, Lady Florence, Deception, and Bandoline as they crossed the road for the hill, in the [rear of whom came Volunteer and Myrrhina. In these positions they roundel. the flag for home, but as they descended the mea dows Fred headed Forester, who as they entered the bottom gave way, and the leader was joined by Deception, Volun teer, Myrrhina, and Bandoline, who crossed the road in close 'order, and came over the' succeeding fences without a mis take. On approaching the water they spread, Fred taking it on the right, and getting safely over, Myrrhina being second, Deception third, Volunteer fourth, and Bandoline next, some distance in the rear. The two leaders came on together to the last fence, which they cleared abreast and raced home together, Fred running the longer, and winning very cleverly at last by a h ea d. Volunteer, who broke a blood vessel, finished a bad third, Deception fourth, a leng way in the rear of whom came Bandoline. A Free Handicap Steeplechase of 20 Bove each, 5 ft. Winners extra. About four miles. 18 subs, 14 of whom paid. Captain Ma3hell's Leonidas, list 91b (C. Boyce) 1 Mr C. H. Tempest's Merrimac, Ilst 31b (Knott) 2 leading Article and Creole also ran. Betting-7 to 4 agst Creole, 2to 1 apt Merrimac, 3to 1 agst Leonidas, and 5 to 1 agst Leading Article, Leading Article, in company with Merrimac, got away in advance, and made the running to the first fence, at which the former fell, leaving Merrimac in possession of the lead, which he held over the water jump, followed by Creole and Leonidas, who got safely over, but Colonel Forester's horse, less fortunate, striking the timber fell into its centre, but who was again remounted, and followed on two fields in the rear. Proceeding up the hill Creole headed Merrimac, and somewhat mended the pace, but as they neared the flags on the bill he made a mistake, which was immediately rectified, and he rounded them some lengths in advance of Merrimac and Leonidas, but on taking the fence before the road in the bottom he fell, and was at once oat of the race, leaving Merrimac in possession of the lead, closely followed by Leonidas, the pair taking the fence in clever style, and as they crossed the plough to the brook they were head and head, in which position they charged the water jump, Leonidas landing slightly in advance, but fell, Merrimac imitating his example. Both were imme diately up, and, having been quickly mounted, recommenced the race home in earnest, Leonidas, leading over the last fence a shade in advance, held his own to the end, and won in a canter at last by half a dozen lengths. The Grand National Rant Steeplechase, a sweepstakes of 10 sovs each, 5 ft, with 250 soya added, for hunters that have never won any S t eeplechase, hurdle race, or fiat race value 20 sovs. 5-yr-olds, list 71b ; 6-yr-olds, 12st 121 b; aged, 12st 71b. To be ridden by gentlemen or farmers. The second horse to receive 60 soya, and the third 20 sovs. About four miles. 64 subs, Mr E. Studd's Cooksboro',4 yrs, 12 at 71b (Mr F. Loton) 1 Mr B e b r en's Game Chicken, aged , 12st 71b (Captain Smith) 00000000 : 000 ..............r G. Walker) 3 .......... 2 Mr Sheward's Sir Stepp ~6yrs, 1 2st 7p:, (111 Capta i n Williams ns Crusade, 5 e, y rs) llst 21b, 51b , 12st 21b (Captain Tempest) 4 Enfield, Mr W. Daniel's Len; aged (M 'Bowen) 5 Marquis of Hastings's Mr Sheward's Triangle, r a, 12st 71b (Mr Johnstone) 6 Captain Coventry's The Miller, aged, 12st nb (Mr Coventry) 7 The following also ran : Oscar, Marine; Maria Day. Jack, Gone-away, Princess Royal, Mrs Rarey, v o l unteer' Ru'ticus, The Feather, Electra, Sulta n, White-fa ced Jack, Wrangler, Gaylad, Lord George, Scarborough, Kathleen, Magic, and Discount. Betting-5 to 1 agst Sir Robert, 6to 1 egst Sir Stephen, 10 to 1 agst Triangle, 100 to 8 agst Lord George, 100 to 6 each net Electra, Miller, and Princess Royal, 20 to 1 each agst Kathleen and Game Chicken, 25 to 1 each apt Die- count, Oscar, and Volunteor, and 100 to 3 each agst Cooks boro', and Scarborough, Mr Sheward declared to win with Sir Stephen. On settling into their places Lord George in the centre went to the front, closely attended by Scarborough, his stable com panion, Cooksboro', Crusade, White-faced Jack, Game Chicken, Long Enfield, Triangle, and Gone-away, who formed the advanced division, and cleared the first fence in excellent order, with the exception of the latter, who blundered at it and fell, giving Mr Pears an ugly fall, the others, who were close in their make, being brought up by the favourite Sir Stephen, Miller, Electra, and Volunteer, whipped in by Magic, Discount, Wrangler, and Gaylad, the lot getting safely over, as also the succeeding obstacle, with one exception, Mr. T. Pears following the example set him by his brother, by coming to grief, and declining any further interference with the contest. As the leading horses approached the brook the greatest interest was exhibited by the spectators, who crowded the spot in thousands, Scarborough being the first over, closely followed by Lord George, Sir Stephen, Sir Robert, Princess Royal, Crusade, and Miller, each doing in first-rate style ; then followed Triangle, Game Chicken, and Cooksboro', who were equally fortunate ; but Electra, who came next, blundered at the post and rails, fell, and was followed in succession by Kathleen, Whitetaced Jack, Rus ticus, and Magic, the rearmost horses, in consequence of the confusion and excitement that prevailed, sharing the same fate, many of the horses getting loose, and scampering over , the inclosures. The leading horses headed by Lord George proceeded over the succeeding inclosures, with little or no variations in their positions, Sir Robert going on second, Scarborough third, with Sir Stephen, Princess Royal, and Miller in close attendance, their followers, who came on at wide intervals, being headed by Triangle, Long Enfield and Crusade. On rounding the extreme flag on the hill Lord George bolted to the right, and ran some distance before he could be stopped, and at the fence beyond Millet fell, but was remounted so quickly as to retain his place, the lead being left with Scarborough, who tiring shortly after was pulled up and returned home. Sir Robert, in company with Sir Stephen, Princess Royal, Game Chicken, and Crusade coming on in advance, with Triangle, Cooksboro', and Vo lunteer as their only followers to the road a second time, which the leaders cleared cleverly, but Princess Royal, on landing, came in collision with a loose horse, which brought her and Mr Beville to the ground, and entirely destroyed whatever chance she might have possessed. This mishap was followed at the following fence by the favourite coming to grief, evidently through distress, thereby leaving Sir Stephen in command, who was closely attended by Long Enfield, Game Chicken, Crusade, and Cooksboro', the latter running into the third place as they crossed the plough for the water jump, which they cleared without a mistake. Half-way across the inclosure Loton brought his horse to the fore, and in a few strides of ter Sir Stephen was in difficulties and gave way to Cooksboro' and Game Chicken, who came on together to the last fence, which the former cleared in advance, and won very easily by five lengths, a length between the second and third, four lengths separating the third and fourth, the others as placed by the j udgo cantered home some time after. The Melton Mowbray Stakes, a sweepstakes of 15 sous each for gentlemen and 5 soya each for tenant farmers ; for horses that have never started in any handicap. 12st 71b. Gentlemen riders. 4 miles, Major Paynter's Tuscarora, 12st 71b (Capt. Smith) 1 Lord Andover nas Roscrea, aged, 12st 71b (Lord Andover) 2 Greek Fire and Nubian also ran. Betting-5 to 2 each agst Roscrea and Nubian, and sto 1 agst Tuscarora, Nubian, with Greek Fire in company, made play, fol lowed t y Roscrea and Tuscarora, over the first fences, but on taking the water he jumped short and broke his back, falling upon Mr. Gordon, and for a period creating fears for his life, as, upon his being rescued from his perilous posi tion he was insensible from the concussion. Greek Fire, who got safely over, then went on with a clear lead, which he held round the turning flag, when ho was headed by Tuscarora and Roscrea, who came on in company to the brook a second time, which the latter cleared first, but was caught at the last fence, and defeated, after a fine race, by a head. Tho Dealers' Stakes, a sweepstakes of 5 soya each, with 25 sous added, with selling allowances ; winners extra; half bredsail owed 71b. Three miles. 10 subs. Mr Vyner's Mountain Fox, h b, aged (£100), 12st 31b (Mr Coventry) 1 Mr F. Gordon's Red Eagle, aged, list 121 b (Mr T. Percival) 2 Mr Loton na, Brown Brandy, h b, aged g loco, list 121 b (Mr F. Loton) 3 Mr Vivian's The Rejected h b, 6 yrs (£l00), 10st 91b (Captain Vivian) 4 The following also ran :—Red Hawthorn, Black Night, Forester, and Primrose. Bstt ng-2 to 1 agst Mountain Fox, and 6 to 1 each agst Red Eagle and Brown Brandy. Won after a good race by three lengths; a length be tween the second and third. The Rejected trotted past the post a bad fourth. Extraordinary Charge. A case which has been matter for mucl - I , gossip in Worces- tershire came before the magistrates siting i n spec i a l ses sion at the Hundred-house, 7 . ltley, Worcestershire, on Saturday last. The magisf, rate , present were Sir T. E. Winnington, ?'LP. (cha i xruan), Rev W. F. Raymond, Rev C. F. Turner, Rev T 4 -1, J. Hastings, Dr Jawed Nash, and Mr E. Vernon. Earl DudlP,9 was charged, on the information of Maria Ann Ilrb;:,e, that he did beat and assault her on the 12th of Mara_ at Witley•court, without lawful cause. There also a counter charge against Mrs White by Earl Dud icy of assault, but his lordship explained that this was merely a matter of form, in order to enable him to make a statement on oath, which he could not do as a defendant. Of course, added his lordship, the idea of an assault and battery committed by a woman on a man was absurd. Mr. Curtler, solicitor, of Worcester, attended to conduct the case on behalf of his lordship; Mrs. White conducted her own case. The charge arose in this way—Mrs.White now takes the name of Southey, as she has separated from her husband, and is now living with a billiard marker named Southey at Worcester. Southey claims a debt of £l,lOO as due from Earl Dudley's brother, the Hon. Dudley Ward, to him, as money won at billiards, and had made an application to Earl Dudley as the head of the family to pay the debt, or some part of it, the debt being a debt of honour. Earl Dudley admitted that if it had been a tradesman's debt or money borrowed, the debt might be matter for his considera tion, but he repudiated any claim upon him for a gambling debt. Southey having laid his claim before his lordship, Earl Dudley tald him at once that he would not entertain the claim for a moment. Subsequently Mrs. White, under the name of Mrs. Southey, waited upon his lordship at Witley-court with a letter from Lady Shaftesbury, and thus obtained admission and again pressed the claim. His lord ship heard her throughout, and in the end gave her the same reply as he had given Southey. On March 12 last she again came to Witley-court, and was shown to the library by the servant. On his lordship being told the name of the person waiting he refused to see her, and as she persisted in waiting he went to the room and turned her out. The prin cipal witness examined in support of the information was Maria Ann White, about 35, of ladylike manners and great self-possession, who deposed that she lived with Mr Southey in Sansome-place, Worcester. Had been mar ried, and legally separated from her husband. On the 12th March she drove over to Witley-court, the seat of Earl Dudley, in a cab, to see his lordship, and sent in her name, "Mrs. Southey." Was shown into his lordship's library, and the servant came to her and said Earl Dudley was engaged. She said she could wait, as she wished much to see him, and the servant then said that his lordship would not see her. She became ill, and asked to see the housekeeper. The servant retired, and just after Earl Dudley entered the room, and said, " Well, Mrs. Southey, I have already sent to the police at Worcester, to have you watched." He then seized her by the right arm, and dragged her towards the door. She begged him to loose her, but he dragged her to the door, and called to his ser vant, " Weeks." Witness begged his lordship to loose her, and said if he did not she would try and make him. She then seized him by the whiskers, on which he put his arms round her and held her hand down so that she was power less, and pushed her into the hall. When he had pushed her to within three steps of the door he loosed her, and she passed out, She had not been desired to leave the house. When she received the message that his lordship would not see her she gave up all hope of seeing him, but was un well, and wanted to see the housekeeper. The witness was cross-examined at considerable length by Earl Dudley. She admitted that, after she had had the first interview with Earl Dudley, she had got a letter from Lady Shaftesbury and had used it as an introduction to his lordship's sister, the Hon. Mrs. Claughton, at Kiddermin ster, and to Lady Ward. She did not see Lady Ward, but saw Mrs. Claughton. Lady Shaftesbury did not give her a direct letter of introduction, but told her she might use her name. When she went the first time to Witley she sent in the name of Mrs, Southey and passed herself as Mrs. Southey. She represented that she came over to Witley in reference to a certain claim which Mr. Southey had on a member of Earl Dudley's family. Her object was to en deavour to prevail on his lordship to pay a debt that was due to Mr. Southey from the Hon. Dudley Ward. The letter from Lady Shaftesbury was read. It was to the following effect : " Lady Shaftesbury presents her compliments to Mrs. Southey, and, in answer to a letter from her, begs to say that Lord Shaftesbury is too much occupied to give her an interview, but if Mrs. Southey will call on Lady Shaftes bury she will give her a few minutes' interview." The witness continued. Her ladyship:gave her an in terview of half an hour and she told her her case. Being asked by his lordship to say what took place at her first visit to Witley-court, she denied that his lordship said on enter ing the room, "I beg to know to what I am indebted for the pleasure of this visit." On the contrary, he seated him self on the table, placed his fiats in a very ungentle manly manner, to say the least, and leant forward and said, " What's your business? Do you reside in Worcester?" His manner was such that she rose from her chair and faid, "Earl Dudley, I am Mr. Southey's wife." Was rather dis composed by Earl Dudley's manner, but endeavoured to make him understand what she came there about, which was to explain their position, in the hope that his lordship would help them, or help his brother to do so. Earl Dudley, however, walked up and down the rocm and talked so much that she could not tell all she wanted. He did not give her the chance of telling him. The witness further said in answer to other questions, that she was legally sepa rated from a bad husband, and she produced a paper pur porting to be a deed of separation. Frederick Phillips, the cabdriver who took the complain.. ant to Witley-court on the 12th of March, was called to prove that through the glass hall-door he saw Earl Dudley push Mrs. white along the hall. Saw his lordship swing her round and push her to the door, She stepped out, or would have been pushed out. When he drove her back to Worcester he took her to a chemist's to have her arm looked to, and afterwards to Dr, Carden. Ann Page, servant at Mrs. White's lodgings, deposed that complainant's arm was much hurt, swollen, and discoloured for a fortnight. Applied hot fomentation to it, and had to dress Mrs. White, as she was unable to dress herself on ac count of the injury to her arm, which was useless. Mr. Carden had been summoned, but, no expenses hav ing been tendered, he did not appear. A statement in writing was produced by his Lordship and identified by the witness as a document sent by Mr. Southey to the Earl, giving a history of his life and of the transactions with the Hon. Dudley Ward, It was drawn up as if for publication in the shape of a romantic narrative, and told how Southey became a professional billiard player ; how he met the Hon. Dudley Ward at Brighton, played with him, and won £1,122, which the loser said he could not pay ; how he met Mrs. White, who kept a school at Brighton, one day in the street weeping, and who told him that "she had sinned as a mother should not do in order to get bread for her children ;" bow he "saved her from a bad man who had followed her as his prey," and how he had "entered into a union with this lady with the understanding that their lives were at issue on the settlement of this claim ;" how he had represented his claim to Earl Dudley, who had turned him out of his house " like a dog," and so on. This statement having been read by the magistrates' clerk, Earl Dudley addressed the Bench, and went into the whole history of the annoyance to which he had been sub jected by the complainant and the man Southey, with whom she lived in adultery. His Lordship stated that in July last year Southey came to him in London and told him that a brother of his (Earl Dudley's) had lost money to him, and he called upon him in the name of all that was due to his family and position to pay the debt. He knew nothing of Southey then, and told him that his feeling about any relatives of his family was that if a tradesman who had trusted them with goods on the faith of a name came to him he should consider his claim ; that he might feel the same with regard to money borrowed—i.e ., as to the principal, but not as to the exorbitant i: iterest charged ; but as to gambling debts he would - hot entertain them for a moment, for if he did so he s t- ould soon be re duced from an independent to a deKudent man. If he were to fall into the hands of such P e rogue as that (pointing to Southey, who was present i n court), the claims on him might soon be such tltat no fortune could meet. Having told Southey his glietermination, be then said the interview must now een't ; but, as Southey still pressed his claims, he told him if he would not leave the room he (Earl Dudley) should, and he gave him to understand that if he did not leave his servants would forcibly eject him. No force however, was necessary, and he left. Next day he went to Scotland, and while at the Worcester railway station Southey again addressed him, whereupon he told him that if he interfered with his privacy he would hand him over to the police, and he then sneaked away. Six months passed away, when one day at Witley-court he received a letter from a Mrs. Southey and a card of Lady Shaftesbury, This was from the complainant, who had called at the Court to see him. lie went to her in the library in the belief that she bad some charitable duty on hand, and, leaning against the table, said, "To what cause, Mrs, Southey, am I indebted for the pleasure of this visit ?" en. Which she whispered something about unsatisfied claims on his family which affected his honour. She then represented herself as the wife of Southey, and he told her he had already given Southey an answer, and mentioned what had taken place on that occasion. She, however, would. not leave until he had told her that she should leave the room, IShe then asked him to allow his servant to order her carriage, which he did, and she went away. His lordship went on to give his version of the interview of the 12th of March, When the complainant was announced he told his servant he would not see her, and that the flyman was not to leave the door without her. The servant returned end said she was obstinate, that she would not go, and wanted to see the housekeeper,on which he went into the library where she was and said, " Mrs. Southey, I'll not permit this intrusion. You must go." Site asked to be heard, but he told her he had heard her ceee and given his determination, by which he meant to abide. He took her by the left arra, not the right as she had sworn, without violence, but determinedly, to show her out of the room. She said "You'll touch me, will yet"' and instantly attached herself to his whiskers. Th - as it became a struggle betwee'h himself and a woman in ale own house. She afterv, - erds dropped his whiskers, but attacked his head. Sbwould not leave the room, and he put his arm rouno, nor, drew her out of the room, but called to his serval".,, Weeks. No sooner did his servant appear than he e. manner instantly changed, and she said " My lord, , i - Kish you a very good morning," and walked out. He never was more surprised in his life than at the sudden change in her manner when the servant appeared. It was bad enough to have to kick a man out like that fellow (Southey), but worse to have to put a woman out of one's own house. After she had left he retired for a minute to his room, and on returning found the woman back again, talking to his servant. She then begged pardon for touch ing him, but he made light of it. She still stood at the door, clinging to it, and in the belief that it was about to be opened he took her by the shoulders, passed her along the colon nade, and put her out. He gave a distinct denial to the statement of the cabman, that he had taken Mrs. White violently by the hand and swung her round in the hall. He admitted that ho had intentionally taken the woman by the arm and turned her out of his house, having given her notice that he would not permit any intrusion, but he denied that in doing so he had used more violence than was necess eery. His lordship then called William Weeks, a servant at Witley-court, who corrobo. rated his master's version of the affair in every particular, and said Mrs. White refused to go away when she was told that Earl Dudley would not see her. She asked to see the housekeeper, but he told her she could not come to see her. There were no signs of illness or fainting in the complainant. This finished the examination, and the Court, after re tiring for a few minutes, announced that they were unani • mous in dismissing the charge. The cross charge of assault against Mrs. White was not gone into, and Earl Dudley said ho had only laid the infor mation to enable him to make a statement on oath. That statement would have been a repetition of the remarks which he had addressed to the Court. The inquiry lasted to nearly 5 p.m. SIR JOHN HERSCHEL'S NEW THEORY CONCERN ING THE SOLAR SPOTS.—To account for the perio dicity of the solar spots, Sir John Herschel, in an article in the " Quarterly Journal of Science," throws out a sugges tion whether (granting the possibility that they may origi nate, directly or indirectly, in disturbances of an impulsive, vorticose, or fluctuating nature, propagated into the photo sphere from the higher and more attenuated region of the sun's atmosphere)—the vis matrix, or original exciting cause, may not be found in the circulation of an elliptic ring of planetary matter, in a state of division sufficiently minute to elude telescopic vision, having a major axis such as would correspond to an average period of 11 1-9th years, and an eccentricity such as to bring its perihelion within the region in question; the matter of the ring being un equally distributed over its circuit, with a minimum and a maximum following in by an interval somewhat less than its semicircumference. By assuming certain conditions as to the constitution of such a ring, and the extent of devia tion from exact equality in the periodic times of its compo nent elements, he finds that not only the shorter period of of 11 I.9th years in the recurrence of the spots first deter mined, but also the longer one of 56 years subsequently in sisted upon by Dr. Wolf, as well as the alternate increase and diminution of the maxima of maculiferous energy, are susceptible of explanation, as well as some other periodi cally-recurring peculiarities in their phenomena noticed by Mr. Carting tom—Quarterly Journal of Science. Persons who have been in the habit of paying weekly as borrowers of Sewing Machines will do well to apply at once and become members of Messrs. Watts and Co.'s Sewing Machine Clubs. By so doing they will not only save the money they now foolishly throw away, but at the same time secure to themselves the possession of one of the best and most celebrated sewing machines in the world. Every in formation given on application; or by letter addressed, with a stamped envelope, to Messrs. Watts and Co., 12, Beaufort buildings, Strand, London, W.C., where metn rs are en ,tolled daily between 10 and 4 ; Saturdays, 10 and k EADvEurrsEmENT.J—Consumption, all nervous, bilious, liver, and stomach complaints, in every stage, are only ag gravated and accelerated by drugs of every description, but perfectly curable by Du Barry's health restoring Revalenta Arabica Food, as proved by thousands of cases which had been considered hopeless. We quote a few.—Cure No. 62,914. Miss Lange, 18 years of age, cured after the medical men had abandoned all hope 3 of her recovery from the last stage of pulmonary consumption, with f-arful cough, expectoration, exhaustion, spitting of blood, perspirations, hollow cheeks, emaciated to a skeleton. She is now, thank God, a perfectly healthy, blooming, fleshy girl.--N. Lange, Commissaire de Police. Cure, No. 46,270. Mr. James Roberts, of Frira ley Surrey, of thirty years' diseased lungs, spitting of blood, liver derangement, and partial deafness.—Cure, No. 47,121. Miss Elizabeth Jacobs, of extreme nervousness, indigestion, gatherings, low spirits, and nervous fancies.—Cure, No. 54,816. the Rev. James T. Campbell, Fakenham, Norfolk, of indigestion and torpidity of the liver, which had resisted all medical reatment. In tins, 11b, 2s 9d; 21b, 4s 6d; 51b, ale; 121 b, 225; 241 b, 40s. Barry du Barry and Ca., No. 77, Regent-street, London ; also Fortnum and Mason; and all grocers and chemists in every town of the United Kingdom. [ADVERTi sEXENT.]—Holloway's Ointment.—All varie ties of ulcerations, bad legs, sores, wounds, and eruptions can be cured by the diligent use of this cooling, soothing, and healing unguent. The old and often failing fashion of strapping edges of ulcers together with plaister has en tirely given way before the more reasonable treatment of Holloway's Ointment, which builds up from the bottom of the wound with sound and healthy granulations; these gradually grow till they reach the level of the surface, then contract, harden, and immediately become covered with a new and wholesome skin. The proper application of this Ointment diminishes the inflammation, cause the unhealthy discharges first to grow thick, and then to cease, when the swelling disappears, and the natural shßpe is restored.; SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC .TOURNALS. THE LONPON REVIEW ON MR. KINGSLEY AND FATJJItE NEWMAN.—For the first time in the hiss tory of controversy good Protestants may expo rience a lawful and profitable amusement in, seeing an English Professor soundtlychastited by a ii,oman Catholic divine. Mr. Charles Kingsley has received a most wholesome lesson, and no amount of disap proval of the tenets of Father Newman and of the Roman Catholic Church will make a single member of the Church of England stir an inch to Mr. Kingsley's aid. When Mr. 'Kingsley attacks institutions and doctrines only,—however much we may lament at seeing the cause of the Refer , !nation handed over to the championship of a divine who is accustomed to look at politics and theology from the point of vies; of an inspired foxhunter—we shall all wish to see him as successful in polemics as it is hts destiny to be. On this occasion Mr. Kings ley was foolieh enough to make e l'andom personal assault. He must ta.is.e the consequences. The Church of EnFetanCl's honour is not involved ; the superstitions of the Church of Rome are nct in issue ; and we leave him with as math amusement to his fate as we should ten'te Christian himself to his fate in the " Pilgrim's Progress" if we had caught him ueing obscene language to the doeglity Giant Pope. At such times the Old Adam eises up . very powerfully in the breae.te of the soundest lovers of the Church. They particularly dislike the opi nions of Giant Pope. But they also particularly dislike insolence; and if Mr. Kingsley does nut mind being insolent to a Catholic priest when he sees him, he cannot hope to get assis tance by raising a tardy cry of " Protes tant principles to the rescue." Of all men living Mr. Kingsley was perhaps the most certain at some time in his literary career to provoke the punishment he has at last received. The religion of muscles is an admirable and certainly a healthy out door creed; but it is the one creed that cannot afford to be satirical at the expense of the test of the un muscular creation. After all, as the late Mr. Justice Mauls observed, we are vertebreted animals. Muscles cannot for ever go on making. merry at our expense, without sooner or later involving them , selves in a eontest where pedestrian piety may chance to be overmatched. But Mr. Kingsley can not avoid sneering at all who are not of his way, we will Iltst say of thinking, but of walking. A singular c .l.istance of this may be found in a few lines which the rector of Eversley composed in an enthusiastic moment, as a preface to his last children's book— " The Water Babies." They convey very accurately the estimate formed by the author of the relative merits of himself and of his generation " Hence unbelieving Sadducees, And more believing Pharisees With dull conventionalities; And leave a Country Muse at ewe To play at leapfrog if sbe please With children and realities.' Disbelievers in the Country Muse of Mr. Kingsley are accustomed to be relegated to the respective classes of Pharisee and Sadducee. But it does move the temper of the most quiet Pharisee or Sadducee to be without the faintest provocation at once set down es " dull." It seems o, hard penalty for not caring to play at leapfrog with realities. Mr. Kingsley has leapt gambolling and light hearted across the path of Father Newman—a Pharisee who happens to he a bit of a wag its his way. Mr. Kingsley, catching a Pharisee of this kind, is for all the world like the English soldier in the story who was unfortunate enough to make a Tartar his nriseneta The way in which Mr. Kingsley caught the Pharisee who was not dull is as follows: —in the course of a review of Mr. Froude in Mac millan's Magazine he fell upon declaiming against the iniquities of the Church of Rome. So tar so good. But, just as Mr. Gladstone was not content with abusing insurance societies without dragging into his oration the name of the unoffending Sheridan, mere denunciation of Roman Catholicism in the abstract appeared to the Cambridge professor ' a poor and miserable kind of leapfrog, What he wanted was a back in the flesh over Which to honed ; and in an evil hour for his comfort he bethought him of the back of Father Ne wman With that gentle man's Damn he accordingly proceeded to disport himself. Abstracted from the Protestant world in which he once played so dazzling a part, Father Newman would never in all human probability have heard of Mr. Kingsley's attack upon him hal not some acquaintance forwarded to him in his retreat the frolicsome passage, referred to as occurring in Mr. Kingsley's article in Mac millan. The clang of professional armour stirred the slumbering spirit of the cloistered veteran. When he first read it he said to himself, as he tells us, "Here is a young scribe, who is making himself a cheap reputation by smart hits at safe objects:' But when he heard that Mr. Kingsley was the aggressor he burnished up his arms, and took down his old lance from the wall. The correspondence has been published in which he drew the attention of Messrs. Macmillan to the paragraph complained of; and in which Mr. Kings ley is confronted with the man upon whose quiet he intruded. Mr. Kingsley in self-defence referred Father Newman to his writings passiln (a con venient and safe reply), and particularly to " one of your sermons on Subjects of the Day, No. 20 in the volume published in 1844, and entitled, _ _ ' Wisdom and Innocence.'" He could not, how ever, produce any passage in that celebrated sermon to justify the personal slander of which he was the author; and a witty epistle from Father Newman to " X. Y.," a mutual friend, extracted from Mr. Kingsley a characteristic letter containing the fol lowing curious extract : " As the tone of your letters (even more than their lan guage) makes me feel, to my very deep pleasure, that my opinion of the meaning of your words was a mistaken one, I shall send at once to Macmillan's Magazine the few lines which I enclose." To the few lines enclosed, as well as to the modifi• cation of them that appeared in the February num ber of Macmillan, Father Newman took the not unnatural objection that they would lead the public to believe that he had been shown a definite passage in his own writings, and had explained it away as meaning something different from the sense assigned to it by Mr. Kingsley. Mr. Kingsley had shown Father Newman nothing of the kind. Father Newman had ch a ll enge d hi m to point out any paragraph of the sor t, an d h a d f a iled to obtain even an answer to hi s c h a ll enge . This being the case, he was not unreasonably dissatisfied at the semi apologetic r e t rac t a ti on pu bli s h e d at last by the Cambridge Newman_DPr.rofNesesworna:nf having Histor 4 . 4 by letter ex. pressed i n t h e strongest terms his denial of they, in which he expressed re gre t at having seriously mistaken Dr. meaning correspondence, 'which I have put upon his Words." In reply Father Newman printed the entire critic a i u sm m , min w g hi i c t h all for power a n d up Plliing in tapieceo of witty Mr. satire h as p ro b a bl y se ld o m been rivall e d. The public a musemen t crea ted by this humorous flagellati on h as b een natura lly Kingsley. Thi s wee k h e h as in his turn printed a furious answer in forty pages to Father Newman's single sheet. After reading it we regret to be obliged to come to the conclusion that it is not only the Pharisees and Sadducees who can be dull. A Country Muse hitting about her in a passion is not so entertaining a companion as a Country Muse shaking her curls bewitchingly' and playing in a corner with the children. In the first place he starts with asserting that Father Newman has made " a great mistake ;" we presume in grappling With the terrible Mr. Kingsley In the second place he tells us that Father Newman has lost his tem per. With the healthiest Protestant sentiments and a true wish to see the Country Muse in the same conquering attitude over the Pope that St. George occupies when he bestrides the Dragon, we confess we cannot think it. Father Newman did nothing of the kind ; and Mr. Kingsley attributes too much effect to his undoubted powers of aggra- ' vation. Father Newman contented himself with ridiculing the absurd position of a man who, having made a false charge against another, tried to shamble out of admitting that he was in the wrong . But that M r . Ki ngs l ey in his last pamphlet has himself lost his temper, we believe, will be seen by any one 'who wades through it, and does not mind being privy to the edifying spectacle of a robust Christian in a rage, exhausting himself in the vain attempt to swear without standing committed to profane language. A Country Muse! And before the children ! And after all to be as heavy in answer to a witty antagonist as the most conven tional of :Sadducees ! The point at issue, it must be remembered, is really a simple one. Where, in the sermon entitled " Wisdom and In nocence," does Father Newman inform us that truth for its own sake is not and ought not to be a virtue ? For neither producing a passage to justify the charge, nor withdrawing the charge like a man, Mr. Kingsley has received a castigation amid the inextinguishable laughter of the literary world. Provoked at the smile on every face, he has turned again to attack Dr. Newman. But he doss not even now produce the passage. For not having done so originally he gives us, indeed, an excuse that is most remarkable, and that is worth the attention of all persons in delicate health. He had been " in formed" that Dr. Newman was not well and wished for peace and quiet. This, if true, was a reason for not attacking Dr. Newman, but scarcely a reason for not giving him the passage on which so serious an attack was based. When Father Newman de mands an explanation of a violent onset made upon his honour, Mr. Kingsley's line of defence seems a curious one. First of all he likes Father Newman's tone; secondly, he is very anxious about Father Newman's health. But his most comical way of evading the difficulty has yet to be told. In the first correspondence Father Newman's nerves are an insuperable obstacle. In the new correspon , deuce Mr. Kingsley considers thitt he is precluded from offering the justification now which he did not offer earlier, by hault courage—whatever virtue of romance that term may mean. "I am, of course, precluded from using the ser mon, ' Wisdom and Innocence' to prove my words. I have accepted Dr., Newman'sdenial that it ,means what I Thought it did; and fteaven fdrbid that should withdraw my word once given at whatever disad; vantage to myself. But more—l am informed by those from whose judgment on such points there is no appeal, that 'en halt courage,' or strict honour, I am also precluded by the terms of my explanation from using any other of Dr. li_ewmatt's past writings to prove my assertion." Mr. Kingsley is a person Whci aPPeatC to be in the habit of receiving very singular pieces of infor mation. Father Newman " informs" him that truth is not for its own• sake a virtue. When the moment arrives for satisfying Father Newman's wounded feelings, some one elee " infurtha" hifia that tither Newman is in weak health, and he is lastly " informed," on the highest authority, that it is Mr. Kingsley's solemn duty to " waive the point." The sentence above quoted, itt which he tells us so, belongs un mistakeably to the Elizabethan order of architec ture. " and " hault courage," and " strict honour," are the native and chaste orna ments of the edifice; but the voice, which, in answer to all inquiries, informs us that Mr. Kingsley is bound in honour not to be " at home," has:a rich Pecksniffian ring about it that seems almost to belong to a later age. After this Father Newman may give up calling. Mr. Kingsley, under his doctor's orders,—from whose judgment "on such points" there is no appeal—is confined to his room, with Sir Walter Raleigh and Spenser's " Faery Queen." But as he leaves the door in de spair, Father Newman hears the fami'.ar tones of chivalry from the window over his head, pouring out vials of wrath upon the head of St. Januarius, St. Alfonso da Liguori, and all the superstitions of the Papacy. To this safe and orthodox occupation Mr. Kingsley may be left. Another time, we dare say, he will content himself with laughing only at those Papists who are dead and canonised, and not touch living fanatics. There is, however, one piece of muscular writing in his answer to Father New man, which is also of the " hau/t courage", and " Elizabethan" style, and which deserves not to be passed by. It is illustrative of a certain manner after studying which we feel less inclined than ever to shout the praises of Mr. Kingsley, or to identify the cause of Protestantism with the present personal issue. The last few pages of Mr. Kingsley's publication are devoted mainly to a sonorous pane gyric upon truth. The preceding pages are occupied with a gross misrepresentation of Dr. Newman's pamphlet, put in we presume for the benefit of those who have not read it. If Mr. Kingsley concludes with a glorious principle, it must therefore be ad mitted that he begins with a little peccadillo : "Dr. Newman has committed on the very title-page of his pamphlet an economy which some men will consider a very serious offence, He has there stated that the question is Whether Dr. Newman teaches that Truth is no virtue.' He has repeated this misrepresentation at p. 32, where he has ventured to represent me as saying, Dr. Newman, tells us that lying is never any harm. He has econo mised the very four words of my accusation which make it a reasonable one, namely—' For its own sake.' . . . While no one knew better than he the importance of the omission, none knew better that the public would not do so ; that they would never observe it. , . . So when I had accused him and the Romish clergy of teaching that 'truth is no virtue for its own sake,' he simply economised the last four words, and said that I accused him and them of teach ing that truth is no virtue.' These last four words, whatever their value, are not omitted at all by ather Newman. In the first extract in Father Newman's pamphlet they are printed at full length. They are printed at full length again in the: next page which contains Father Ne wman's letter to Messrs, Macmillan. In his next letter, p. 12, they again are correctly given. In his next letter, p. 18, they are given at full length again. In every single passage in which Father Newman deals with Mr. Kingsley's words they are to be found unabridged. Where are they left out? In the page of humorous epitome only which we have given above,and in the title of the pamphlet —" Whether Dr. Newman teaches that Truth is no virtue"—in neither of which does Father Newman profess to quote or to do more than tra vestie. In the face of this, and with Father New man's sheets before him, Mr. Kingsley dares to tell us that, " When I had accused him (Dr. Newman) of teaching that truth is no virtue for its own sake, be simply economised the last four words, and said that I accused him and them of teaching that truth is no virtue." These be thy gods, 0 Israel! This is hault courage, and robust virtue, and chivalrous romance ! - THE EXAMINER ON THE SITEPLUg.—There is no beating down the revenue by fair play. Last year Mr. Gladstone cut off sd. a pound duty on tea, and 2d. in the pound of income tax. He knew, he said, that neither would be as much the worse for it as some people might suppose; and that, after a cer tain time, the Treasury would have no cause to re gret these concess:ons. But the elasticity of the reproductive power of tLe country bhflies his wisest calculations. He estimates . the loss on customs at £1,300,000, and it has proved !) be no more than sup- £802,000. The income tax would ieldin he over posed, on the diminished scale, somete t ' £8,000,000, and, lo ! it has brought I ° £9,084,000. The nursery maxim seems to conta: n all the wisdom of finance—the more you cut off the hair the stronger it grows. The power of consump tion, enhanced by relief from taxation, has grate fully shown itself in a variety of ways. We have had less to pay the tax-gatherer on incomes and on tea, and therefore we have had more to spend on excisable articles. Ia the year ending lst of April, 1863, the indirect taxes levied at home produced £17,155,000 ; in the year ending Ist of April, 1864, they have produced £18,207,000. The total figures of the national account still show the enormous sum of £70,208,963, the greatest amount ever raised by taxation under so few heads, and with so little hardship or pressure. Mr. Gladstone is certainly the most fortunate of Chancellors of the Exchequer, for he has fallen upon a period not only of peace but of unexampled variety and vastness of enter prise. Other men have drained the soil and grubbed up the hedgerows, and let in the air and sun, and planted the good seed; while he has entered into their labours and eaped the golden fruit. And now what is to be done witii the new surplus of two mil lions and a half P Mr.Gladetare made a bold and a , having it suc cessful experiment three year; eg ? , when deficiency, the first step he took lb: dealing with was to double it. Why should he not try the coun terpart of the experiment now, and by we re trenchment give as much more to the nation as by industry the nation has given to him ? With a surplus of £5,000,000 in hand, what might he not do in the way of financial reform ? For 671 mil lions a year of expenditure, at a time when we are at peace with the whole world, there is and can be no sufficient justification. We are prosperous now, but it is impossible to suppose that prosperity will prove everlasting. We are at peace, but who can tell when we may be driven by the madness or wickedness of others into war ? The present is the time, and by paying off debt or remitting taxation we ought to provide for the evil day. It requires no effort of patriotism or of financial skill to go on raising the same extravagant amount of revenue by diffusing the incidence of taxation over a greater number of transactions than before. The rate of each tax may be lessened ; but if the actual sum it yields be the same or nearly the same, though the painful sensation in paying it.may doubtless be mitigated, the fund, out of which industry is em ployed, and wages paid, and provision laid b; for old age or infirmity, is eaten into as much as ever. We do not grudge Mr. Gladstone his good luck— on the contrary we are heartily glad of it. But as the praise is really due to the untiring toil and energy of the people, wo are entitled to claim for them the reward which they have earned. Let us at least have Retrenchment if we are not to have i I Reform. Tun SATURDAY REVIEW ON FEDERAL WAR FARE.—The proverbial fact that degeneracy is always gradual is consoling to humanity as an ab stract proposition, but it is certainly irritating to the bystanders in any particular case. It is during that easy but slow descent that the world laaishes its censure most liberally upon the traveller who is making the journey. Few people are at the trouble of abusing offenders who have formally taken leave of their character. It is commonplace and dull to fling epithets at the head of politicians who are avowedly professional, or of women who are quite abandoned. It is only the politician who, having once been high-minded, becomes dirtier and dirtier in his tricks, or the woman who was once religious and is now visibly " friskifying," that provokes spectators into saying bitter things. The same rule applies to the system of warfare which the Federals are pursuing. A good deal of very genuine horror is excited in this country by the ac counts we receive of it, and very strong epithets are freely applied to it. There can be no question that it thoroughly deserves them all. All war is systematised destruction, and that is bad enough. But in civilised countries war is made as it were mechanically, and without passion. The Govern ment which makes war determines upon the mea • sures that will bring its enemy to terms, and then employs its machines, its army and navy, to execute those measures. But both the combatants them ' selves and the Government which directs them are careful to avoid any destruction which does not evidently promote the attainment of their chief ob ject, or which tends to assume the form of vulgar robbery or murder. Having, on the whole, attained to this grade of humanity ourselves, we have a right to stigmatise as savage and barbarous any warfare conducted upon different principles. But it is only a small portion of the human race that has adopted this more refined plan, and if the Fdderals choose to depart from it they have the majority of the er oleo on their side. All the black races in Africa, all the Chinese and Japanese, all the natives of India, as we learned to our cost during the mutiny, and probab►y the Russians and Turks, when they get a chance of doing so unobserved—all practise warfare upon the uncivilised plan. They gilt() frill rein to their evil passions, and look upon war as mete murder and malicious mischief on a large scale. The more murder and the more mis chief, therefore, that can be committed, the more successful the war has been. The result for which the combatants fight is not to arrive at a permanent and peaceful settlement, but merely to indulge their minds with the grateful reflection that they have inflicted a large amount of exquisite pain and misery upon their antagonists. The pangs of those whom they have killed and wounded, the privations of those whom they have made destitute, the mental agony of those whom they have dishonoured, these are the trophies their valour carries off and the prizes for which they risk their lives. The exploits which the Federals are performing on this system of warfare would not have attracted much notice if if they had begun by being the sort of people from whom such things were to be expected. But they began upon the European, not upon the Red Indian principle, and they still use the language of civilised belligerents. They only descended gradually to their present ferocity, though the gradations have undoubtedly followed each other quickly. At first, outrages were disavowed or explained away. Col. Turchin's proceedings at Athens were rebuked at the time, and after the lapse of a few months the tale was contradicted altogether and treated as a myth. General Butler's proclamation was ex plained away, and a sense put upon it which it could not possibly bear. The horrible murder per petrated by General M'Neill was apologised for, and the Washington Government was excused for ne glecting to take notice of it on the plea that Gen. M'Neill was serving his own State, and not the general Government. The next step was to inflict unnecessary devastation, but to do so under the plea of military necessity—as where a district as large as Scotland was laid under water by cutting the banks of the Mississippi. Now we have ad vanced a step further still. The wanton outrages which are committed are no longer denied, or ex plained away, or excused as inevitable—they are claimed as a triumph, and reported as a sufficient result of a costly expedition. Sherman and Kilpatrick count up, not merely the roads or rail ways or enemy's stores they have destroyed—but the corn they have burnt, the fields they have laid waste, the farmhouses and mills and villages they have reduced to ashes; and they do this without a word of rebuke from their government or from the party that supports their Government. It is argued that the destruction of food and of the means of raising it has the effect of weakening the Confede racy by diminishing its resources. The same argu ment would justify ary kind of barbarity practised under the pretence of war. The slaughter of un armed peasants tends to lessen the resources of the enemy's conscription. The ill-treatment or the slaughter of women tends to prevent the increase of the enemy's population—in other words, the resources of his conscriptioti seventeen or eighteen years hence. Even the fearfu; crimes for which Cipriano and Giona La Gala have recently been condemned to death in Southern hat; mig ht be defended with perfect consistency by person: war ring on the principle of the Yankees. If it is to be once assumed that the object of inconveniencing an enemy will justify wanton devastation of private property and the slaughter of non-combatants, it is difficult to deny the right of terrfying a population from aiding an enemy by the infliction of appalling punishments. The proclamations teat are reported to have been found upon Colonel Dahlgren would seem to show that the Yankees have themselves dis covered the logical deduction. The order to burn Richmond was bad enough—worthy of the Govern ment that did its best to set fire to the commercial pert of the town of Charleston, because the fortified part refused to capitulate. But the order to kill Jefferson Davis is something more than detestable. It strikes the reader as much with amazement as it does with horror. If we are to believe in the authenticity of a story which has not, we regret to say, yet received any satisfactory disproof, it is a marking-point in the his tory of the degradation of public opinion in the Northern States, showing how far they have drifted from the landmarks of civilised morality. It would be hard to find a parallel in the history of Europe. The most brutal and bloody generals that have cursed the world have never attempted to carry on war by murdering the Sovereign of their enemies. Suwarrow, Davoust, were unscrupulous enough, and cared little how far they stretched the laws of war, or trampled upon the feelings of hu manity. But no such crime as this was ever laid to their charge. We must go back to the massacre of St. Bartholomew or the murder of William the Silent in order to find a parallel in the history of Europe. And even in these cases the black task was entrusted to conspirators or assassins. The very darkness in which the principal actors were shrouded was a concession of the turpitude of their act—a homage to the moral sense of mankind. It has been reserved for a Yankee commander to pre scribe the assassination of a rival ruler as a mili tary duty, and to give directions for its effective execution in a general order. In three years the Fe der..-,ls have parted so far from the ways of thought wh i c h ,are followed in the rest of Christendom that they not or: ly do what other men deem monstrous and horrible, L-ut they have ceased to recognise in that is blameworthy or even such conduct anyt?l in g exceptional. THE SPECTATOR ON Z. OUGE AND PEARL . Pow- DER.--An odd little book has fallen in our way suggesting a curious difficulty 11.2 our modern social ethics. The work, or rather pamchlet, calls itself a hand-book for ladies' maids, but i.' really, we suspect, intended for a very different clae — for the fectory girls, and servant girls, and girls in the country whose passion it is to look like ladies, and who do not quite know how. The compiler, says he is much indebted to some French original, is apparently honest enough, really understands the virtue of clean water, and plenty of it, and has acquired some distant idea of the value of strong rough towelling. We might take him for an apothecary but that he seems to be afflicted with a sort of ladies'-maid conscience, and to feel a neces sity for apologising for some of his own recipes. He expatiates upon the advantages of different methods of dressing the hair with a gusto which suggests the perfumer, and is positively subtle in the distinctions he draws between " Bertha's plaits" .. - and : he " style Marie Anto;nette," the " Aaex andra" d " Solferino" cluster;ng, the " trellis coiffure" : ant ; a marvellous arrange r :lent which, as he says, "suits on ;7 a very marked sty i of coun tenance," and " would L'llure a ve r y o p en files,'" and which is called the " Claarle:nagne." He is pia° L. 1 i3 1 cheerful about the removal of wrinkles by a nasty process of " filling in" with a mixto, - e of white wax, spermaceti, rose water, and "balm of Toit,," and gives without preface or comment a recipe for remov ing freckles, which, we venture to say, by the way, is entirely delusive ; but he is distressed at the ap plication of beer to the hair, a practice which, he says, is very common and very dirty, and is posi tively vexed with himself for suggesting the best kinds of rouge and pearl powder. He ie careful to premise that health is the best cosmetic, and that cold water clears the skin better than any prepara tion, and is extremely anxious that cosmetics should be used only during the day. His " patrons," he fears, may sleep in T hem, and that will injure their " transpiration. He even warns all readers that the use of " pearl white" may lead to paralysis, as its basis is white lead ; but, having satisfied his con science by these remarks, he proceeds to give ail the receipts, including the dangerous one, with most painstaking minuteness. As a farther salvo, how ever, ho places in front of his long list a prepaa ration which he declares to be absolutely safe, and which we quote for the final ' line, a delicious specimen of w ould be artistic reasoning. " One of the safest plans for colouring the cheeks, and which is etit:Oled without either deadening the skin or impeding the 1-;ecessary trans piration, is to take a fragment of brig - ,ht crimson silk, and having dipped it in strong spirits o, wine, to rub it over the cheeks till a moderate tint is apparent on the skin. The great value of this com plexion aid is its transparency, for it admits of the increase of colour by the natural mode of blushing." Clearly the writer believes that though a decoction of ribbon is justifiable, and rouge and pearl powder are used, and perhaps must be used, by people of every grade, there is something a little wrong in using them, something which though not exactly wicked has a flavour of immorality about it, and requires defence or apology. Middle class society, in Europe at least, pretty much agrees with him, and though it buys cosmetics every day, and uses them every night, thinks it necessary to deny their propriety, and blame under its breath the people who visibly employ them. There is a dislike of " paint" in all European nations, more especially among the lower classes, which seems as strong as an instinct, and the presumption in favour of in stincts is almost always great. Yet it is very hard to prove that there is any moral or social reason against the use of cosmetics, or any reason at all stronger than the disrepute brought on the practice by its prevalence among the disreputable classes of society. Why should a woman who may wear purchased hair without reproach, or fill up gaps in her teeth, or use almost any conceivable device in the way of dress, be ashamed to admit that she brightens the colour on her cheek or smcoths an otherwise fur rowed forehead ? Yet there is no doubt that she is ashamed, and as little that the feeling is not alto ther conventional. It is not because of the injury to health, for though men may one day learn to con sider the habitual disregard of sanitary laws as a ,t crime approaching to suicide, opinion been cultivated up to that paint of refinement or precaution. Nor is it because of the physical nas. t i; • ness of all these modes of adornment, for the rec ipe has not ye, we have given is not nasty, and th, would be just as ashamed of acknowis dging its use as of discussing the merits of their pea rl „Pr Pow der . t ase who use 1., Nor does it spring from the idea suggeste. l . by handbook which has been the occasion of th ' se re ' marks that cosmetics are " unfashionable," for :hey are fashionable or otherwise by fits and starts, whle e the discredit attached to their use is permanent has hardly varied even in intensity since the days of Charles the First. The only apparent reason for a condemnation so exceptional is that cosmetics are deceits, that they involve an acted falsehood, and ought, therefore, to be avoided as strictly as any other lie. That rule, however sound enough io itself, is rather capriciously applied, for nobody objects to a wig, though a gentle ridicule attaches to its concealment, and people talk readily about false teeth, even when they are employed for " de ception," and not simply to preserve the health. Nobody either rebukes devices in dress which involve far more of deceit, thinks of condemning tight lacing except as a stupid practice, or feels morally indig nant because tailors and milliners alike know the use and abuse of padding. Nor can the feeling spring from an old religious belief, a relic of Catholic teaching and Puritan opinion, for the old divines blamed extravagant shapes for the hair, and low dresses, and vanity generally, quite as bitterly as they condemned rouge ; yet all their rules on these points are broken without a thought of shame. Yet there must be a principle somewhere at the bottom of this as of every other prejudice, and the unconscious feeling of society seems to be something like this :—All men and women are bound to conceal any deformity, and have a right to look as well as they can, provided they keep within the law which tacitly enforces honesty even upon the toilette. Everybody has a right to glass eyes, for an empty socket gives pain, or to conceal baldness, because baldness in some men and alit women is a deformity, and deformities are un pleasant, and unpleasant things are never to be paraded. Everybody has a right also to-day to wear false hair, because everybody knows that with existing coiffures there must be falsity, and so there is no deception. So there exits a claim to supply a wanting tooth, for that does but maintain the appearance nature had originally given. But no one has a right to add a totally new quality, to assert, as it were, a beauty which nature had not given, and for a man to wear stays, or a brunette , pearl powder, is equally objectionable, the covering in both cases involving the social guilt of deceptions and in a greater or less degree the moral guilt of falsehood. Nobody objects to an actress wearing rouge, because all actresses wear it, and there is no deception, but worn in a room it involves a false hood both as to appearance and to age. It is a weak explanation that, when all is said, but it is the only one which meets the visible ethical difficulty. Men of the modern school all reject the old notion of mortifying personal vanity, they all admit that it is the business of women to look as well as ever they can, and yet they all instinctively feel that even if pearl powder makes them look better pearl powder ought not to be worn. Even a hairdresser writing for ladies' maids on the art of suppressing pimples, and therefore in the position best allows a cynical regard for his " art," and his art only, still acknowledges that the instinct somehow worries his mind. Why ? COUNTRY MARKETS. YORK-SITE RDAY. There was a rather limited show of wheat at market to day, and late prices had to be paid for superior sorts, with an inactive inquiry. In barlay sales were to a fair extent, and former quotations were well maintained. Oats in fair request, and prices as before. Beans were slow. Wheat, red 37e to 39s Oats.... lBB to 203 White do .40s to:4ss Beans ..32, to 40s Barley .26s to 32s Peas ....—s to —8 Malt, 58s to 60s per qr.:,,y rye, 28s per qr ; flour, 283 to 30s per sack. GRANTHAM-SATURDAY. Old white wheat, 43s to 468; red, 41s] to 43s per 365 t.; new white, 42s to 468; red, 40s to 425. Malting barley, 33s to 36s per qr ; grinding, 28s to 308; oats, old, 23s t 3 26s ; new, 20s to 24s ; beans, 34s to 36s ; old, 386 to 408. LEICESTER-SATURDAY. A fair show of wheat, with a moderate sale, at about late prices. The supply of barley was scarcely equal to the demand, and the prices of last week were fully realized. —New white wheat, 42s to 451 ; red, 40s to 42v per 36 stone. Old red, 38s to 42s per 36 stone. Barley, malting, new, 32s to 36s per qr.; grinding, 27s to 28s ; old oats, 258 to 28s; new oats, 21s to 23s per 24 stone. Beans, old, 405 to 42s per 38 stone ; flour, 26s to 32s per 20 stone. NORWICH-SATURDAY. There was a better supply of wheat, and prices were about the same as on this day se'nnight, but farmers asked higher prices. Barley scarce, and prices unaltered. Oats limited in supply, with a tolerable inquiry. Other articles as of late. White wheat. 44s to 47s 1 Red wheat 40s to 43s Malting barley ...35s to 37s 1 Chevalier barley 33s to 34 s Distilling do . 29s to 30s 1 Oats.. 24 , to 263 Flour, 27s 6d to —s Od per sack from the miller NOTTINGHAM-SATURDAY. The demand for wheat today was slow, at late rates. The show was not large, but samples generally in good condition. The delivet ies of barley decrease weekly, Oats in tolerable supply to-day, at late rates. Beans were firm. —White wheat, from 41s to 478 ; red wheat, 38s to 42e. Barley—malting, 30s to 378 ; grinding, 27s to 30s. Oats old, at 24s to 30s Od ; new, 19s to 265. Beans sold at Ai to 42s per qr, ; new, 34s to 365. Flour, fine, 28s to 308 ; super, 32s to 37s:per 20 stone. DUBLIN-FRIDAY. The market improved for al: kinds of Irish grain. Sellers of oats asked a shade r: ore money. isilaizo dull. Flour and oatmeal steady, but slow. s.d. s.d. Wheat, white 24 0 to 26 6 Do., red 2l 6 to 24 0 Do., new Barley Oats Po., black — 0 to 0 s. d. s. d • Oatmeal lO 0 to 13 0 Beans.. . 0 to Bere —o to 0 Rapeseed Bakers' flour Indian corn Foreign Mail Packet List. MAILS DUE. Australia and Mauritius, via Southampton....... April 18. via Marseilles Jrazil and Cape Verds, by British packet. April 5. Cape of Good Hope, Ascension, and St. Helena April --. China, Penang, and Singapore, via Southampton April 3. via Marseilles April 1.2. - - Falkland Islands Gibraltar, via Southampton April 3. India (Calcutta), and Ceylon, via Southampton April 3. via Marseilles April 3. India (Bombay), via Southampton via Marseilles April 5. Portugal.... Malta, Egypt, and Aden, via Southampton April 3 via Marseilles April 5. Newfoundland .. April 13. OpPrto and Vigo U. S. and British N. America, by Brit. packet.... April 7. by - U.S. packet.... by Canadian packet. April --• W.C. of Africa, Madeira, and Teneriffo April 10. Bahamas, via New York .. . April 7. Mexico.. All parts of West Indio, including Chili, Peru, April 13 California. and British Columbia.. THE JAPANESE AMBASSADORS, who visited Europe last year, have just published their diary, entrusting it to Fou-yah, the bookseller, the Longman or Murray of Yeddo. It is far more complimentary to the French than to ourselves, and singles out the Empress Eugenie as one of the handsomest of women. We under stand that tranaistions in French and English will appes with as little delay as possible. Births. BARNARDISTON.—On the Ist inst., at Acton-place, Suffolk, the Lady Florence Barnardiston, of a daughter. CUSTANCE.—On the 30th ult., in London, the wife of the itev. Charles W. N. Custance, Maulden, Bedfordshire , of a son and heir. MARRIOTT —On the Ist inst., at South Penge, the wife ei Arthur W. Marriott, Esq., of a son. Marriages. COLLINGRIDGE—MINSHAW. — On the 2d inst., at Christ Chu, ch, Highbury, by the Rev. W. Vincent, M.A.,_in" cutubent of Holy Trinity, Islington, assisted by the Rev. David A. Doudney, incumbent of St. Luke's, Bed' minster, Bristol, William Hill Collingridge, Esq., of 360 Camden-road-villas, N.W., and Aldersgate-street, to Ann Elizabeth, elder daughter of the late John Miry' shaw, Esq., of Islington. FITZGIBBON—FruGERALD.—On the 31st ult., at Saint Peter's, Dublin, Gerald Fitz Gibbon, Esq., jun., barriste r ' at : •law, to Margaret Anne, second daughter of Mr. Baron Fi'zGerald, PINNELL—MILNER.—On the 31st ult., at Saint 117ary' 00 Crumpsall, Manchester, Clement Pinnell, E6q., of.Fre°' lands, Westwell, Oxfordshire, to Mary. youngest daugh: ter of John Milner, .Esq., of Sunny-hill, Choethava -h ' Manchester. Deaths. BARING,—On the 23d ult. at The Grange, Hants , the Right Ron, William Bingham Baring, Baron Ashburl Olt aged 65. eltlßß,—On. the 31st ult., at Islington, N. 0. Cribb, Esq•, late of H.M.'s Customs. BRACKENBIIRY.-0a the 31st ult., at Quendon Rectory Essex, the Rev. Joseph Brackenbury, M.A., rector, aged 77. CLOWES —On the 31st ult., at Upton, Slough, Admiral Clowes, aged 77. LEY.—On the Ist inst., at Woodlands, near Exeter, Willa Ley, Esq., aged 80. MOSSMAN.—On the 31st ult., at IA, Newington-greens William Moss man, aged 48. SHACKLE.—On the Ist inst., at 'Uxbridge, Thos. Shac kle, Esq., aged 85. London : Prinzed and rrbilehed by VVILLI AIt ANDREWS. 12 of No. 112, Strand, Printer, at TUE SUN °MOO NO. 1 : Strand, in the Precinct of the S avo y , ,5 th e courel Q 1 Arra 4, 1804. THE SUN, LONDON, MONDAY EVENING, APRIL 4, 1864,