The Sun. — London, England, 1863-12-21 00:00:00

Extraordinary Infatuation of a Devonshire Heiress. The foltowing appears in the TVestern Morning .News of Saturday Gossip has been busy for some weeks past with an instance of infatuation on the part of a young lady, which bears out the old saying that truth is stranger than fiction. The names of the parties in question are known to us, but the object of withholding them will be obvious, although the correctness of the incidents narrated is guaran teed. Miss Nemo, as we shall call her, is the daugh ter of a clergyman and a doctor of divinity, not long dead, and who resided at his rectory in the county of Devon. Nemo is about 25 years of age, good look ing, and accomplished, and it caused no small trou ble to the family some time previous to her father's death to find that she had formed a clandestine ac quaintance with a stonemason to whom was en trusted the repair of her father's church. On this discovery Nemo was sent to Exeter to reside with a brother, that there might be broken the tie she had formed. Ooly a short time afterwards she eloped with her " lover of low degree" to H—, where she remeined with his friends until the marriage prelimicaries could be arranged. On the morning fixed for the wedding, the bridegroom not being orthcoming at the appointed time, the lady wentin search of him, when, to her astonishment, he in formed her that he was in no particular hurry, and should not marry yet. On finding herself thus de ceived, the unfortunate girl ran away, and waded into a sheet of water waist high in her wedding dress, from which predicament, however, she was luckily extricated by two labouring men, taken back to where she had been staying, and eventually home. A few days afterwards the stonemason lover called at her residence, bat was refused an interview by her brother. He then went to another of Nemo's relatives, a lady of wealth and position, with whom he endeavoured to turn his heartlessness to pecu niary profits, offering to marry somebody else if a hundred pounds were given him, adding the interesting information that three other ladies were already in g love with him. This extortionate demand was refused ; but the mercenary man was offered a handsome present if he became the husband of either of the three candi dates he had mentioned. This, it seems, did not suit " his book," and fortunately his cupidity effected that which nothing else could do—deter mined Nemo to throw offaltogether, the result being that he is now a presiding and unmarried genius in a common public-house. A short time after this oc currence the father of Nemo died, leaving her a very respectable income; but in order to prevent her , from forming a connection with anybody beneath her, the receipt of this income was made to be con tingent on her remaining single, to revert to her only if she became a widow. Her brother having succeeded her father in his ecclesiastical office, Nemo resided alone at lodgings in Exeter up to the middle of last summer. One morning, however, she was seized with a fit of infatuation, which surpassed even that which we have already narrated. While sitting at her open window she saw on the opposite side a man begging from door to door. She rang the bell lor her servant and ordered the man to be fetched. He was introduced into her room, served with refreshments, during, or after which, Nemo requested to hear his history. The beggar informed her that he was connected with a very high family in Ireland, from whom he ran away when he was 14 years of age, and had not returned since. He travelled in foreign parts, and eventually enlisted in a foreign army, where he sti uck his superior officer and was sentenced to be shot. That punishment, however, was subsequently mitigated to bard labour for life in the mines. He underwent some years of his punishment, which was the cause of deformity on his right side, one shoulder becoming considerably lower than the other. After some years he succeeded in escaping from the mines, re turned to England, enlisted as a soldier, but having deserted from his regiment, he was taking up, punished, and turned out, branded with the letter 1) on the shoulder, which mark he showed our heroine. Since that he had been compelled to earn his livelihood as a beggar. This pathetic recital seems to have moved the susceptible heart of Nemo, for she forthwith interested herself for him with various contributors to the Strangers' Friendly Society, and rigged him out with linen and outer garments, brushes, combs, and other articles necessary for the proper performance of his toilette. This done, she visited him at a notoriously common lotlging hcuee in a back lane, but being disgusted with that habitation, she obtained lodgings for him at an eating-house, where, when he was duly in stalled, she visited him, exchange visits being made by the gentleman at the lady's lodgings. Not con tent with these marks of favour, she purchased far him a handsome ring, receiving one made of his hair in return, the latter, as well as the former, being of course paid for by Nemo. Thus matters continued up to a short time ago, when, on being remonstrated with on the impropriety of such a connection, she absented herself suddenly without leaving the slightest notion of her whereabouts being enter tained, until her return, when it transpired that she had gone off with the man to Devonport, and been married at a dissenting place of worship, the interesting office of bridesmaid having been per formed by an old woman, a sextoness at one of the Exeter churches, whom Nemo had taken with her. 14 "ey by this time was getting short, and the pair rete eme s u to Exeter, the lady visiting her friends and i h u u l t ni` an i 4 a F them of the high respectability of her their an a Connections, and eventually so softening fi t her fo get x Ireland, they agreed to give her money and husband eland, to which country she said her intended to t a k e h er . H e was consequen tl y admitted t o several interviews with the family, and no end of were provided for Nemo be •tjtn:re nht e r m e o n a t ete e raen Wa s into " polite Irish society.''esociety.' ' given her to ena bl e th em to pa y a visit to her relatives her in London, while their bore , in which Was h t portion of the family plate, &c , we re forwarded to Li verpool to await the pair . w hen they reached that Do rt en route for Ireland, They kindly b.. J their L on d on f r i en d s ,' They were whom they visited often dari ng e s a week, when the newly-made hus band took it i nto his head one evening to go down into the kit c h en of a . f r iend's p ipe, and not r etura . house to smoke a his wif e considered reasonable time, i t n ,g In what u v e i w ,, ent in search of him, but searched in vain, to their loa g i n L a some misgiving, Nemo proceeded w hen she found her boxes broken open, and th e e ever article of value they contain ed had disa ppeare d Without delay she sought, aid, and searched the metropolis for days—her (rolls being eventuall y crowned by finding her husband in a low pot house, every penny he had taken from her having been squandered. Nemo induced her de graded spo use to go with her to the railway station, when, on making the names of her relatives known, she obtained a pees for both to Exeter, but on their arrival there they were entirely discarded by their former friends. having by some means obtained a little money, the couple proceeded to Plymouth, and only a few days since were located in anything but a first class house in one of the Three Towns. An offer was sent the lady by her friends to receive her again if she would leave the man who had treated her so badly ; but this Nemo, with womanly heart and head, peremp torily declined. She will shortly become a mother, and she has expressed her determination to beg, or even starve, with the husband of her rash choice. It will occasion no surprise to the reader to learn that it has been found by a letter from Ireland, couched in a peculiar diction, that the man's high connections there are a myth. So ends for the pre sent this remarkable and painful episode in the life c f en accomplished Devonshire complete without ft NO HOME Com WILCOX AND GIBBS' Enwilcu-ma.onINE, noiseless. Warranted tole'iicolimpact, efficient, durable, and pericer , ;'.,slily machine. pr,,,, 1 e l ail the requirements of a No. 135, lep;ent-street, w._ELclt4is tr2e on application at [A-EII:FIST7I;7NT ]--Holiowa ~) 1 .. L .,,,. G.7 not Elrmfut.—No app Y4 a o t :Mtment and Pills.— same universal approbation lot- curiaraullas met with the as that which this lin r 4ucut has received, ex , ternal ailments r&ers, netid discharges, burns, ldistereA a l ;'',l' . : , in s"es, deep similar atlecticus, are at ?nee soothed and puje",and many soundness by Holloway s ointment. wi th ( ; , the road t o and his pills the v;ealthy may save thetaseiZa such fering, and the poor may help thelnselves to heallell 'Ur- these medicaments are reasonable in price, and Can t Laince chased in every hamlet. Th e y have effected cures of stiff joints, swelled legs and ulcerated li m b s , and oepcluAl out th e prospect of a happy future alto' every hope oi ezec i v:„ Ty had beenaivcr_ George Townley's Alleged Insanity. (From the Lancet of this day.) The act was not accordant with the expressions in his letters, nor was his habitual disposition. His conduct at the time of its commission was altogether different from that usually exhibited on such occa sions. His bearing when he brought the bleeding body of his victim into the presence of her aged uncle has no parallel in the history of the course pursued by mere criminals. He avowed himself as the " murderer ;" said he knew "he should be hanged ;" and at the same time declared, "She has deceived me, and the woman who deceives me dies." This occurred on the 21st of August. For three months he` .had been under confinement ; for three months the terrible crime he had committed, in all its horrible reality, had been present to his mind. Who can tell the nature of those struggles of self against self which in that term had wearied and worn a brain predisposed to yield to such pernicious influences ? It is not until efforts are made for his defence that Dr. Forbes Winslow's experience is brought to the examination of the condition of a mind which for so long a period had been subjected to the influences of prison confinement; recollections of her whose life he had taken, morbid discipline of the reason for its own justification, a determined resistance of the recognition of the fairness of the law which had been violated, and a resolve to defy its commands. The train of thought thus induced is further complicated by the conviction that there w ere six conspirators plotting against hi m w ith a view to his destruction, and a chief conspirator at their head. These mental conditions, accompanied by an avowed disregard for all moral and reli gious observances or obligations, Dr. Winslow por trayed as forming the elements of a condition on which his opinion was asked and given. He affirmed that at the time of such visit, after the lapse of three months from the commission of the crime, the prisoner was a man whom it would then be dangerous to permit to be at large. Dr. Wins low abstained from committing himself to thestate ment that the prisoner was irresponsible for his crime at the date of its perpetration. When pressed on the point he put the case hypothetically, and we apprehend that few will dissent from his conclusions. In reply to Mr. Macaulay's question, " If the pre sent state of mental derangement existed on Aug. 21, would it be likely to lead to the commission of the act then committed ?" Dr. Winslow said, " Most undoubtedly ;" and proceeded, " Assuming him to have been on Aug. 21 as he was on Nov. 18 and yesterday, Ido not believe that he was in a con dition of mind to estimate like a sane man the nature of his act and his legal liability ;" and also added, in cross-examination, " that the condition the prisoner presented then, so far as mental excite ment went, might not have existed at the time of the commission of the act." We are particular in pointing out the guarded nature of this opinion, in asmuch as it has been urged by some contemporaries that the plea of insanity has been unduly raised in the present case. So far at least as the principal medical testimony goes, it amounts to this—that a man labouring under a delusion that he is the object of a conspiracy, with a chief at its head ; that he is himself a free agent, not to be controlled by either divine or human law ; that the life of a fellow creature is of little consequence in comparison with a personal wrong—such peculiarities manifesting themselves in an individual with an hereditary disposition to insanity, is a man dangerous to him self and to society—one likely to commit crimes, and one whose responsibility for acts so committed ought not to be estimated by the standard usually applied to sane men. THE LATE GALES. On Friday afternoon the Government steamer Medusa, 889 tons, 320 horse-power, Master Corn mending J. H. Allard, arrived in Great Yarmouth roadstead, and anchored off the Britannia pier. After receiving on board two experienced masters of smacks and a North Sea pilot, the Medusa was to start on a cruise in the North Sea and to the mouth of the Elbe, in search of the missing smacks, 13 in number. The gunboats attached to the Pembroke at Harwich, and the Cornwallis at Hull, are also expected on the same service. Reports of a most contradictory nature prevail with reference to the missing smacks ; but as 17 or 18 days have elapsed since the gale, but little hope is entertained as to the safety of the 91 men and boys on board. Late en Saturday night a portion of the passen gers and crew of the bark Prince Frederick William, 347 tons, were landed at Dover, and are now at the Siilors' Horne. The bark was beund from N ew . castle to the coast of Malabar,and in the North Sea became so damaged that she was taken in tow by another vessel, from welch she parted company, leaving the mate and four men on board the vessel which had her in tow. The only hope for the Prince Frederick 'William is that, notwithstanding her crippled state, she may be able to make either Yar mouth or the Downs. At 11 o'clock on Saturday night eight men of the Swedish brig Mory ,Svere were landed at Dover. This vessel became water logged off the Texel in a heavy gale. One man was drowned; the remaining portion of the crew were picked up by a Dantsic brig, and are now in a very destitute condition at the Sailors' Home. There is every reason to believe that there are several vessels knocking about the North Sea in a disabled condition. The following laden collier vessels have sailed from the Tyne nearly a month —The Spray, the James, the Quayside, the Brod ricks, the Lady Mary, and the Esther. Of the safety of soma of those laden collier vessels there are scarcely any hopes. In fact, it is almost certain that some of them have foundered and drowned their crews. It is fully anticipated that there will be a considerable loss of Tyne seamen in the late gales. Some of the crews of vessels that are known to be lost have suffered very much from exposure. One man belonging to the Ganges, which became waterlogged on her passage from the Baltic, perished from the effects of the cold, and the re mainder 'of the crew were exposed to the fury cf the gale without food or drink 48 hours before they were rescued. The north-east gale of Thursday was very violent in the North Sea. The other steam ship which arrived in the Tyne to-day was obliged to lie for thirteen hours, in consequence or the force of the storm. The only casualty that occurred upon the Northumberland coast was at Amble, where a Scotch vessel, the Cygnet, of Aberdeen, drove ashore. All the crew but the mate were rescued by the coastguard. He was washed off the rigging and drowned. The vessel is completely broken to pieces. Th e schooner. Matilda, of Aberdeen, has gone Arbroath dismasted and otherwise damaged. eiastletsim . Sh "est in f , her masts the Pentland-Firth about a r ,'"Nlat ago, while on her voyage in ballast to masted Itis supposed she is the same dis the Larne ct ot t which was seen in the Firth the day to sith was wrecked, and which was supposed to del e in gone down with all hands. The a 3 b l n a n ti t l , d e a x h p a o s sed to g ui the last fortnight been tossing te, and the b ima e t fury of the gales, in a dis hardships have in conse quence s beenstate, packetsi nsecuredlipr° crenb, fy l o ni 1 r 2 1 3:2:8:01: ieeoali Agents.pe,oagfri:ervi loedtteneismrr:kuas'. ipi,l:tsi°onti health every Tea is eho• ---- ice and sts:::::::dgeoroasete. n".;:thereesuecae, .Ivalnttarsessolhdavine laebarsne,nenferooomneFilbtic.opirtion, that and wholesome to at Ventnor, • i ev e r lall c a r re l p t ° l ll o a l Y, aligu-t' ber l ry n , i t t h i e s g u r n at l i v f;i i r d i: h ;o e Fu re t e h n o p l e s a le s owferegatheredWight, itit.t [AnvEansEmEN • restoring ' e c t ucr: e 0 b v . : 6 1 1. 1 2 e: j o u : 1 4 - . liver, and stomach gravate , and accelerated by , I erlec:ly curable by Du Barry been Arab considered ica l'o°d Food, h s o p p r e o l e v s e s d . from the last stage of abandoned all hopes of her recovery ,h, blyvethqouuostaeuadis.ewof._cases whi ch naa Miss Lange, 18 years of age, cured after the medical men had expectoration ; pulmonary consumption, with f:arful coo, emaciatedex hau sti on t , o sr a d ; ttn i g eto o n t . blo s o h d e , is p e n r o s w p i , r t a h t i a o n n k s, -, is , ,aire de healthy, blooming, fleshy girl.—N. Lange, I,o i nrn chollow perfectly Police. Cure, No. 43,270. Mr. .Tames Roberts, of Fria lle Y Surrey, of thirty years' diseased lungs, spitting of blood, liver derangement, and partial deafness.—Cure, No. 47,121. 3 Elizabeth Jacobs, of extreme nervousness, Indigest ie gatherings, low spirits, and nervous f anc ies.—Cure, NO. 54,816. the Rev. James P. Campbell, Fakenham, Norfolk, of indigestion. and torpidity of the liver, which had resisted all medical treatment. In tins, lib, 28 9d ; 211); 4s 6d; 51b, his; 121 b, 225; 241 b, 40s. Barry du Barry and CI, No. 77, Regenttstreet, London ; also Fortnum and Mason; and all grocers and chemists iu every town of the united iiiogdotxt THE SUN, LONDON, MONDAY EVENING, DECEMBER 21, 1861 GREAT FIRE IN THE CITY. On Friday night, a fire broke out in a part of the city densely crowded with warehouses, which in a few hours destroyed property and merchandise variously estimated in the whole at from £lOO,OOO to £150,000. The property of one firm alone which has been consumed was insured at nearly £40,000, and that is said to be hardly equal to the loss they have sustained. Others have suffered to a greater or less extent. The fire occurred in a block of buildings used exclusively for warehousing purposes, and situated be tween Wood-street and Milk -street in one direction, and between Clement's-court and Feathers-alley in another. The locality abuts upon what used to be the site of the old City Compter, and some of the property which perished in th e conflagration is said to have been once used as a resi dence by Judge Jeffreys. It was chiefly occupied by Messrs. Grant, umbrella and parasol manufacturers, Messrs. J. and &Morley, as a shirt factory, Mr. A. S. Henry and Co., Mr. William Gibson, and Mr. J. F. Bunting, warehouse men. The various places were mostly divided by thin party walls, which in modern times had been run up for purposes of business or convenience, and which would not be tolerated under the stringent building regulations of the present day. Brick walls of great thickness, which appear to have most withstood the rage of the fire and prevented its spreading, are left standing, and some of them are said to have survived the Fire of London. On the ground floor Mr. Bunting had a small office, or warehouse, and there the fire originated according to the prevailing opinion. His warehouse, and the far more extensive one of Messrs. Mor ley, which was also on the ground floor, were divided by a slender partition wall, which the fire soon destroyed and then spread in other directions, The upper part of the premises over those of Messrs. Morley were occupied by Messrs. Grant ; and had an entrance from Clement's -court, which was also common to the warehouses of Mr. Bunt ing, Messrs, Henry, and Mr. Gibson. The first symp• toms of the fire were discovered by Peter Grant, a young man in the service of Messrs. Grant, but no relation to them. He and two women servants were left in charge of the pre mises of Messrs. Grant at night, and at about half-past 10 on the evening of Friday he came down atairs,as was his cus tom, to fasten the street door. On the way he felt a strong smell of fire, and on reaching the passage on the basement, finding it filled with smoke, he called in a policeman. A message brought Inspector Foulger forthwith from the Bow lane police-station and a fireman from the headquarters of the London Fire Brigade in Watling-street. Smoke was then seen oozing from crevices in the door of Mr. Bunting, and the fireman jocosely said if he had a bucket of water he would put out the fire wherever it was. The door was broken in, and, though the place was full of smoke, the inspector and the fireman at first searched it in vain for fire. While they were so engaged the heated smoke seemed to break into flame spontaneously, and the whole place was speedily in a blaze. The fire spread first into the warehouses of Messrs. Morley, and then into the premises above. By the aid of the telegraph 13 engines, six of which were steam fire-engines, including that of Mr. Hodges, "were brought to the spot. There was an abundant supply of water, and they played upon the burn ng mass both from Milk-street and Wood-street. The current of air in Clement's-court and Feathers-alley served to fan the flame, but by about 2 o'clock the engines had obtained the mastery over the fire, though it was not wholly quenched until some hours afterwards. One after another the floors and parts of the burning roof fell with a noise resembling a discharge of artillery, and alarmed the whole neighbourhood. A great orowd col lected about the spot and a strong body of police was pre sent to keep order. Fortunately, no lives were lost, though the two women servants of Messrs. Grant had a narrow escape. In the erection of this party wall between the offic e of Mr. Bunting and the warehouse of Messrs. Morley, had the mode of construction,been adopted which is now in sisted upon under the compulsion of an Act of Parliament, the fire in all probability would have been confined to the small room in which it originated, considering that there was plenty of water readily available, that the lad Grant had early discovered the existence of the fire by the smoke before any mischief had been done, and that the premises which were afterwards destroyed were detached from ad jacent property by Clement's-court. As it is, two out of four of Messrs. Grant's warehouses, the shirt factory of Messrs, Morley, and the warehouses of Messrs. Henry, Mr. Gibson, and Mr, Bunting have been completely destroyed, with all that they contained, and several of the adjacent buildings scorched or otherwise injured. The principal sufferers appear to bo the Messrs, Grant and Messrs. Morley, the former of whom, directly and indirectly, gave constant employment to a large number of people, who will now for some time to come be thrown out of work. ASSIZE INTELLIGENCE. NORFOLK CIRCUIT----NoitroLK, Dec. .18, (Before Mr. Baron Martin.) His lordship arrived here yesterday afternoon from Cam bridge, and after attending Divine service at the Cathedral, opened the commission for the county of Norfolk and for the city of Norwich. The calendar for the county, which is apparently urineu ally heavy for the time of year, contains the names of 22 prisoners, who are charged as follows :—One with shooting with intent to kill, one with malicious shooting, one with stabbing,six with burglary, one with rape, one with bigamy, three with arson, four with robbing from the person with violence, two with concealment of birth, one with receiving stolen goods, and one with an unnatural offence. The city calendar contains the names of two prisoners, charged with forgery end robbery. The learned Judge, in He charge to the grand jury for the county, in remarking upon the numerous cases of arson he had had to try upon what may now be called this circuit, during the past fortnight, said,—l had occasion at Cambridge to regret that I had acted upon a scale of punishment with respect to the crime of arson ; had I known the extent to which this crime exists in these counties I most certainly should have inflicted much more severe sen tences. The class of cases I have met with is this :—Persons who suppose they have some ground of complaint against the relieving officer, or because their wages are not so high as what they think they should be, or because they have received some offence of a trifling kind, proceed to set fire to stacks of grain without in the least considering who the owner is, whether he has given them any offence, or whether any one at all has injured them. It certainly seems to me that if that offence continues there must be severe examples made. In many counties in England, especially in the eastern counties, the quantity of grain which is stacked in the fields is enormous, and if persons are allowed to set this grain on fire, really without cause, but apparently from a feeling of general hatred to all raan kind, it is an offence which must be pnt down with severe punishment. According to my experience, severe punish mimeo do put down crime. The Judges are in the habit of sentencing persons to very severe punishments, but it' offences of this kind are persevered in, severe punishments must be resorted to, and, as I have said, in my experience they are effectual for that purpose. George Bone, aged 22, described in the calendar as a groom, was charged with stealing from the parson of John Fox a silver watch and key and Bs., at Stanfield, on the 26th of October, 186 1 , with violence, and from the statement of Mr. Drake, who was the counsel engaged for the prose cution, as well as from the evidence of one of the wit nesses named Parke, who was present at the transac tion and saw all that went on, it appeared that on the day in question Fox, the prosecutor, a respectable look ing sort of tradesman, had been at a neighbouring village called Brialey, staying in a publichouse in that place from 2 p.m. till 10 p.m., and while there the witness Parke (who was a cripple, supported on a crutch) and the prisoner came in, and after some little time spent in drinking and talking they all three left together and took the road to Fox's home, calling at two or three publichouses en the way. On arriving at a spot where four cross-roads meet, it being then about 11 at night, the moon shining brightly at the time, the prisoner, without any provocation or warning, suddenly struck the prosecutor so violent a blow with his fist as to knock him down, and then proceeded to beat and kick him, the prosecutor begging for mercy. Parke, who stood a little distance off, and whether from unwillingness or from inability or fear, owing to his weakness and lame ness, not attempting to help, heard the prisoner say, " Give me some money and I will let you go," upon which the prosecutor gave him what money he had, when the prisoner allowed him to rise, and went away. The beaten man shortly afterwards felt for his watch, and then discovered that besides his money he was minus his silver watch, which he had pulled out at the inn in the prisoner's pre sence, and which though like other watches, "made to go," was not meant by him to bo parted with at that time and place, nor was anything more seen of it till some few days afterwards, when the prisoner brought it to a publican in the neighbourhood and offered it for sale. In the mean while Mr. Fox, the prosecutor, having told his story to a policeman, a search was made at the Swan Inn, in Bris ley, where prisoner and Parke occupied beds in the same room, and on one of the beds, which had been very recently slept in, wes found a watch seal, identified by Fox, as one that was attached to the watch on the day of the attack, and shortly afterwards the watch and the prisoner were toned. The prisoner, who was undefended by counsel, en deavoured to show, first, that the attack was provoked by Fox challenging him to fight, is consequence of wkieh, seeing that Fox was the bigger man, he thought it wiser to kacck him down at once and then to kick him, probably to prevent his getting up again ; secondly, that if the watch were stolen somebody else did it, for he had nothing to do with that pert of the matter ; thirdly, that Mr. Fox was so drunk and knew so little what lie was about that he gave him the money; arid, fourthly, the 18th t no reliance could be placed on anything Parke said. anehheajeu''Y' however, came to a very different conclusion, months, found him guilty, he was sentenced to 13 shootin g at Southacre, Zi'lesisrnaprisonment with hard labour. v Tt a l ! o ei aged 18, a labourer, was charged with peas Eares, gamekeeper to Mr. Fountain at of October, with intent to murder Lim. Mr. Metcalfe andaNeflern. Zed no 91° defended the a p p ri p s e o a n r e e r d . for the prosecu e tion w bc t a seen aab that Qxt 7 a s o : c o l :a: 1 d: man Lnitterest in court, and from the of the story,e°.nar" as told by the learned je t rnv io il ll :i;ghe ; inev : eco l da r o.s . fe S tel u hx, l heewoouutuldi::: and brutal an assault committed as can well be ccuuoel for prosecution Wu, the morning of the 18th Eares, who was under-keeper.to Mr. Fountain, saw a man in a field, not belonging to his mas ter, pick up a brace of partridges whiah he had just shot• On going up to him to take away the birds he asked hi his name, when he gave him a name which turned out to be a false one. He refused, however, to give up his gun, upon which the prosecutor Eares turned his back to the prisoner, who struck him instantly on the shoulder, causing him to drop his gun (a double •barrelled one), and, after striking him while on the ground several times, the prisoner caught up the keeper's gun, put it to his shoulder, and tired it at him, with such results as are best told by the prosecutor's own words. Thomas Eares, after detailing the accounts of his finding tha prisoner running after a brace of partridges which he had shot with a single-barrelled gun in his possession, and getting from him the birds and a statement that he was one of George Burton's sons, went on to tell the facts just narrated, and said that when the prisoner put his gun to his shoulder he took aim at him, being then about five yards off, fired, and hit hint in the head. (The pro secutor, who was still suffering from the effects of the wounds, appeared in Court with his head bound up in a handkerchief.) It was light enough for the prosecutor to see the person distinctly, so as to identify him, and leave no doubt in his mind that prisoner was the man. After firing the gun the prisoner took it away with him. So severe wore the hurts that the prosecutor had great difficulty in walking towards home, and as he was Making his way home he was met by a man named Curtis, who tied up his head, put him into his cart, and drove him to Mr. Fountain's head keeper. Eares admitted on cross - examination that his gun might have been cocked when it was knocked from his hands. Two witnessed were then called,who deposed to having seen the prisoner that morning, about 7 o'clock, running away from the place where the attack was made, to one of whom he said with a flurried manner, "Don't you say a word," and by this witness he was seen to be running and looking back. A Mrs. Greenwood, who lived nearly opposite the prisoner, spoke to hie having gone past her window about the time in question, coming from the direction of the pace above referred to, dressed in a dark slop and dark trousers, and wearing a cap. Another witness, who had gone into a public house in the neighbourhood about a quarter to 1 in the afternoon of the day of the event—Sunday the 18th of October, said he saw the prisoner there at that time. who asked him whether he had beard the "rout out" that morn ing, and on his replying " No," the prisoner said he had heard a keeper had been knocked about, and likewise a gun taken from him, and if he (the witness) would go with him he would show him where it was, for if they went and got it they might sell it. A young man named Lake proved the dis covery of the gun, hid in a fence, bounding a piece of grass, and near Westacre-road, which is close to the field where the partridges were killed ; while the superintendent of po lice, Mr. Larnbey, who took the prisoner to the prosecutor's house, by whom he was identified, having just previously taken another man named Burton, under the supposition that he was the criminal, but who was not identified by Eares, was called to speak to a statement of the prisoner's, in which he said that he went to bed between 11 and 12 on Saturday night, and did not get up till between seven and 8 the next morning, when he went w ith his father and brother up the Lynn-road. The surgeon's evidence was to the effect that there was a wound on Eare's head about three inches long and two wide, the scalp being to rn o ff t h e b one, which was laid bare; that the bone was fractured, and marked by the passage of two or three shots, and that there were wounds on the left shoulder as well. But of ail the evidence the most remarkable was that of a man named Crisp, who professed to have been actuated simply by the wish to have justice done, and who, therefore, had told his story to the policeman since the hearing by the magistrates. He said, "I am a drover, and live about the country. On the 18th October I saw the prisoner, who came to me about a quarter. past nine, and put his arm round my neck, saying I have got into a mess.' What sort of a mess,' said I. ' I have been shooting some birds,' said he. Have got them r I said. 'No, I gave them to the keeper, who asked me for my gun, which I re f use d to part with, when I hit him with it and brok e it i n t o pieces, and then took the keepe r ' s gun and shot him with it.' He then went on to say, ' have bid the gun, but I have it, and I think it will fetch us two pounds.' Oh, lad, lad 1' said I, you won't have the opportunity; you'll be took before the day is out; I won't have anything to do with it for 20 sovereigns.' " It is needless to say that this witness was seve:ely handled in cross-examination by Mr. Bulwer, and that that cross-ex amination did not tend to raise him in the estimation of the audience, Mr. Bulwer, in his address to the jury, pressed two points upon their attention--the first, which was not so im portant as the other, being whether the prisoner was the man who committed the assault ; the second being that, it this were so, was the gun fired with the intention of taking life ? The first point, he said, was a question of identity, resting on the testimony of Bares, the prosecutor, and as to this the learned counsel urged that under the circum stances of the transaction and at the time specified it might be fairly presumed that he would not take a very accurate notice of the person attacking him. He reminded the jury that them was a variance in the description given by the witnesses of the prisoner's dress, and that though the pro secutor said the prisoner had gone away with the gune, none of the witnesses saw him with one. As to the intention, said Mr. Bulwer, all the facts show that the inference is that the shot was entirely accidental, a view borne out by the prosecutor's evidence. He begged the jut.) , not to pay the slightest attention to such a fellow as the man Crisp, whose evidence was an afterthought, and given, not to the magistrates, but privately to a policeman, and reminded them of the terrible consequence to the prisoner of a verdict of guilty of wounding with intent to murder. His Lordehip began his summing up with explaining to the jury the meening of the two counts on which the pri soner was indicted, end then, after remarking that though the prisoner's counsel had properly enough said that Eares's evidence, under the circumstances, was not such as to be entirely relied on, yet it was evidence that they, the jury, were to judge of, reminding them that he had said he was in such an attitude that he could not see who the man was. Hie lordship then went through the whole of the evidence in detail, treating with scorn the testimony of Crisp, whose conduct he desc-ibed as so ineffably base that it would be better to try this case without it if possible; and that as it was not given before the justices and taken down in the pri soner's presence (a mode of proceeding obviously valuable, for otherwise prisoners cannot know who they are going to meet, and what they may have to oppose), but privately to a policeman, it had better be excluded. His lordship then noticede on or two slightivariances of time and dress, reading and commenting on that part of the evidence, drew particu lar attention to the account given by the prisoner to the superintendent of police of how he had spent his time the night before the affair, and with reference to the wounding said—As to'this, there cannot be any doubt that a wound was inflicted : the question then is, with what intent was it done ? Now, if a man uses his own gun, which he knows to be loaded, and deliberately aims and fires it, there is no doubt about the intention; but if he picks up another man's gun, not knowing whether it be loaded or not, and pulls the trigger, it is for the jury to say how far they think there was an intention to kill. To convict on the first count. you must be satisfied that:the shot was fired with the intent to murder —if not, you must then consider whether it was done with the intent to do grievous bcdily harm—but if you think the prisoner was the man, but that he did not intend to murder or to do grievous bodily harm, then you must convict him of unlawfully wounding. After a few minutes' deliberation the jury found the pri soner guilty of wounding with intent to do grievous bodily harm. His lordship, in noticing the base and cowardly nature of this attack, made upon a man who, an far from pzovoking any violence, was going away from the prisoner, and that for the mere offence of poaching where there was no vio lence the punishment was usually slight, but that it was high time to put a stop to such acts of violence as this by awarding heavy punishment. If the jury had found the prisoner guilty of wounding with intent to murder, the punishment would have been penal servitude for life ; as it was, the sentenca would bo 15 years' penal servitude. NORTHERN CIRCUIT—LIvEuOOOL, Dec. 19. CIVIL COURT. (Before Mr. Justice Williams and Special Juries.) THOMAS V. PIM. _ . This was an action to recover damages for false imprison ment of the plaintiff by giving him into custody upon a charge of felony, and also for breaking open his boxes and converting his goods. The pleas were a justification on the ground that a felony had been committed, and that defen dant had reasonable ground to suspect the plaintiff of the felony, and that the goods were concealed in his boxes. There was also a demurrer to the pleas. Mr. Brett, Q.C., and Mr. R. G. Williams were for the plaintiff ; and the Attorney-General, Mr. James, Q.C., and Mr. Potter were for the plaintiff. The plaintiff was master of the bark Premier, and defen dant is ship's husband of the same vessel, and uncle to the owner. The vessel had just arrived at Plymouth from Ha vannah, when defendant came on board and handed plaintiff a letter from the owner discharging him from his post, al leging as reason that he had received money from the con signees without authority. Defendant then took possession of the cabin and everything in it, ordering plaintiff to leave the ship instantly, and not allowing him to take away his clothes or any other property belonging him, The following day plaintiff went on board and obtained his clothes and other property, but his writing desk and a tin box were de tained on the allegation that they contained property be longing to the ship. lii the desk were plaintiff's certificate from the Board of Trade of his competency for a foreign. going ship, some £2O in money, and other p ro p ert y . Th e next morning defendant went to the hot-4 where plaintiff was staying, taking a policeman with him. lie told p l aintiff that the cabin had been broken open during the ni g ht, and the desk and box containing the ship's papers stolen, an d that ho suspected plaintiff of having done . it. He then in sisted on searching his boxes for the missing articles. Th e police officer refused to search unless plaintiff were given in charge,whereupon defendant charged him with the felony. Nothing was found upon the search, and plaintiff was then taken to the police-office, where the charge was abandoned 'I he case fur the defendant was that the cabin window had been broken open in the night and the things taken ; and, as plaintiff was most interested in the possession of them, there was reasonable ground for suspecting him. With respect to the loss of the certificate, it was urged that he was not thereby deprived of his living, as, under the Mer chant Shipping Act, it might if lost be renewed upon ap plication to the Board of Trade. His Lordship commented upon the extraordinary cir cumstances of the case and the difficulty there was in sup posing a felony had actually been committed, and left it to the jury to decide in the first place whether defendant had made out that fact with reasonable certainty. The jury found there had been no felony committed. His Lordship then addressed them on the subject of da mages, directing them to assess the damages under the different heads separately, with a view to the ulterior pro ceedings. The jury fixed the damages at £lOO for the false impri sonment, £25 far the money and other goods, and £5 for the loss of the certificate. HOOD V. HORSFALL AND OTHERS. This was an action w;ider Lord Campbell's act, brought by the plaintiff as administratrix to recover damages for herself and children for the death of her husband, result ing as it was alleged from the negligence of the defendants. Mr. Aspina l .l, Q,C., and Mr. C. Russell were for the plaintiff; and Mr. Brett, Q.C., and Mr. Baylis for the de fendants, The defendants are exten&ve iromongers at Liverpool, carrying on business under the name of the Mersey Steel and Iron Company. The deceased was in the service of the defendants as a hammersuaith, and had been so for 30 years. It appeared that the defendants had recently built a new shed containing a number of boilers, and an extensive set of steam hammers. Tho deceased was at work at one of those hammers. All the boilers, except the one at which ho was working, were carried up through the roof ; but that one, and part of the chimney connected with it, was within the building. Around that chimney there was a large hole in the roof, which had been left in order to prevent the con tact of the heated chimney with the building ; there was also a man-hope in the roof close by. One day, while de ceased was engaged at work, he was struck by a heavy block and pulley, and severely injured in the head. Whore the block and pulley came from could not be ascertained, but it was supposed to have come through one of the holes in the roof, where it was proved the shed was in an unfinished state, and workmen might have been about at the time. It was also proved that the ordinary vibration of the roof was great, the suggestion being that the fall of articles from the roof might have been caused by that. His Lordship observed that the law relating to such cases was still unsettled, and under all the circumstances of this case it was very desirable that some arrangement should be come to, without binding the defendants by any admission of liability. Ultimately it was agreed that a nonsuit should be entered; and that defendants should pay to the plaintiff such a SUM as his lordship, under all the circumstances, should think reasonable. THE CRIMINAL NOVEL, The principle that holds good in political economy holds equally good in literature—that the demand creates the sup ply. The author, therefore—or more frequently the authoress—of the criminal nuvel is perhaps not answerable for more than half the evil that springs from the perform ance. He knows what his readers require, and supplies them with the article, which may be said, in a comprehen sive sense, to be made to order. Almost every one professes to condemn the criminal novel as unfit for general perusal, though for his or her own private reading it is supposed to be innoxious. "It does me no harm," thinks the mature matron, " though it is certainly unfit to be placed in the hands of young persons." But what the mamma reads the daughter also will read, so that the romantic poison, if poison it be, finds its way all through the household, as well as into the mistress's boudoir; for Miss tells her maid, who tells the cook—end all pent over the forbidden page by stealth. The novelist would find no market, who should present the supporters of circulating libraries with a fiction in three volumes not seasoned with the proper ingredients. What is wanted is excitement, no matter how produced. Life is becoming tame; the current of English society—on the surface, at least—runs smoothly, and if it were not for the activity of burglars and pickpockets, our sympathies would actually stagnate. Occasionally a murderer comes to our relief, and the whole British public thrills with a pleasing horror. While the criminal is undetected, every body appears on the look-out. If we enter a tavern or a coffee-house, if we are boxed up in an omnibus or in a rail way ca-riage, we may elbow him there, with his garrotting cord or his clasped knife in his pocket. At the breakfast table, nothing else is talked of. If justice takes its due course, and avenges the shedding of innocent blood, a momentary shock is felt by the whole nation, after which the sensation dies gradually away, leaving the popular mind in a state of eager craving for another. To lilt up the interval, the criminal novelist offers his services' which are generally quite in harmony with the inci dents of our social experience. Nothing in fiction "takes" like a well-planned murder ; the reader being let into the secret, becomes a sort of accomplice before the fact —sees the victim led towards the wood, tho ruin, or the pool ; hears the stab, the rush of blood, or the plunge of the corpse into the water. If the deed be perpetrated for money it still creates a powerful twittering of the nerves; but if for revenge, or through the jealousy of love, the reader al most Lecomes one with the heroic assassin, anal dreads hie detection, as if he or she were to suffer with him. By reficc. tive and artistic skill, the suspense is protracted through volume after volume, with hair-breadtlt escape 3, alternat ing with moments of tranquillity and remorse, or with generous sacrifices, or acts of daring designed to awaken admiration in female bosoms; until at length, in the com plication of incidents, the chaos cf sentiments and motives, the succession of enjoyments and sufferings, or the pressure upon the assa:sin of wrongs unconnected with his guilt, which, on the mind of the reader, operate like expiations, it become matter of doubt whether we ought to desire escape or punishment. _ _ _ Our feelings are, however, moat commonly interested in the fate of some gentle sinner, who early in life makes a mistake which colours her destiny, and qualifies her to be come the heroine of a criminal novel. This mistake is gene rally a marriage, contracted through rashness, through passion, through vanity, through pique, through craving for opulence, with an individual whom she does not love. in real life no one, while sowing this fatal seed, can by any exertion of sagacity foresee what fruit it will bear. We need not apply any epithet to the woman who takes the step. She feels her proper appellation stamped upon her heart in characters of fire, and shudders and sickens as often in secret she reads over the agonising inscription. Some who have cdvauced thus far in the path of iniquity stop short there, and expiate, by a life of wretchedness, the error of their youth. With these the novelist has nothing to do. To figure in fiction, a woman must efface her first offence by a second,—by elopement, by adultery, by bigamy, or at times even by assassination. Of course the novelist does nut defend these acts of his heroine; does not say in so many words that what she does is right ; he only clothes her with all sorts of vir tues and graces, except one ; gives her taste, fancy, kindness to equals, compassion for inferiors, and, above all. beauty, accompanied by every conceivable fascination. Sometimes, indeed, by way of variety, like Aurora Floyd, she takes to the horsewhip, or, with her own fair hands, like Lady Audley, pushes an intrusive husband down a well, or like Ellen Middleton an innocent young girl into a river; but then it is only in self-defence, and to cut the Gordian knot of difficulties, which seem otherwise insur mountable. As for the readers, it may be said that they will tolerate anything provided it be sufficiently disguised, or even if the novelist pretend that it is disguised. We all know that there is no sophistry like that of the heart, which nearly always possesses the power to excuse what it loves. Accordingly, the most grave and virtuous ladies are generally able to de fend their passions for prurient descriptions, which they maintain are not only harmless, but instructive, because they afford a picture of life, such as it is. They might be told, if it were worth while, that in this great scheme of things, called life, there are many nooks and recesses into which the eye of a chaste woman should not pry. It is certain, however, that the nearer approach made by novelists to such nooks and recesses, the greater is the delight of their readers, who hang fascinated over those gulfs of sin which they are permitted thus to enter, at least in imagination. If questioned on this point, they will take refuge in affected bluntness of perception, they do not, they say, understand what certain passages mean, nor can they quite discern the drift of insinuations which, nevertheless, heighten the interest they take in the story. It must confessed that there are men, as well as women, too readily interested by those female novelists who tread habitually on the verge of forbidden ground, and undertake to unveil the mysteries of the feminine nature. The administration of the novel reading public is no longer excited by apt representations of character, and by a series of dramatic incidents and situations. What is now sought is a disclosure of the subtle notions end fluctuations of the female heart. These arc, it may be admitted, an important subject of study. But in the case before us, it is not the general system of sentiments, emotions, passions, that are anatomised and depicted, but only such as are closely allied with vice and crime. A woman with a pure heart and unsoiled name creates no interest whatever in the reader, unless through some probable combination of events she is threatened with the loss of what makes her estimable. No reader feels much solicitude about tracing the arduous process by which the soul sometimes works off its stains and pollutions, and emerges from darkness into light. If such an aim were kept in view by the writers of fiction, they would be accused of converting a novel into a refor matory. What the readers prefer to doat over is the much sadder process by which innocence is undermined; by which ail the fine qualities of mind and heart are Mighted; by which features once soft and lovely are rendered hard ; by which the eye that once drooped with modesty is in vested with a confident stare in one word, by which beauty itself is made loathsome through its association with Vice. No doubt, the treatment of such a theme r=aybe reconciled with the loftiest purpose which can regulate the creations of literature. Tragedy in its IliSst sublime development is based on crime. But the mind, when it has waded through its horrors, is conscious of no deterioration, of no inroad of effeminacy, of no inclination to swerve from the right path to the wrong. It is, on the contrary, nerved and strengthened to virtue, No irgenieu9 reader can pretend that any effect akin to this is produced by the perusal of a criminal or sensation novel. Alai()ld historian, describing the career of a nation now extinct, observes quaintly that it was invigorated by cold, and enervated by warm baths. He meant to utter an im portant truth, which his language, however, scarcely em bodies ; he meant to say that, in the vigorous period of a nation's progress, it loves what strengthens it, and that afterwards, when it has become effeminate, it delights in what augments its effeminacy. It is the same with litera ture; books do not create the virtue or the vice by which society is braced or relaxed at different periods of its pro gress ; they are merely an indication of the principles by which internally the mass of the population are actuated in different stages of civilisation. The criminal novelist pro vides the mental fare which the taste of his times can alone digest. He does not create the appetite for the highly flavoured viands to which his art gives birth, he only ac commodates his cookery to the palates of his guests. In doing this, he knows it is needless to attempt the circum scription of his sallies within the limits of probability or even of possibility. No matter what nature determines, provided the criminal novelist decides otherwise. He has taken accurately the dimensions of his readers, who, as ex perience has taught him, seek for nothing beyond the stir ring of their blood, by incessantly awakening their curiosity, by suggesting certain associations, by inflaming the fancy, by stimulating prohibited desires, by steeping the imagina tion is the temporary Lethe of voluptuousness. Mlt. JUSTICE SHEE, (From the Saturday Review.) Appointments to the Bench of late years have been so uniformly good that the selection of the right man to fill a vacant judgeship is not often sup posed to call for any special commendation. We take it for granted that the great prizes of the Bar will be given to those who nave tairly won them by their character and success as advocates, and it is very rarely that the expectation Is disap pointed. The appointment passes as a matter of course, as something almost inevitable, and no one imagines that there is any occasion to congratulate the Government on the conscientious performance of a duty which it would be disgraceful to neglect. But the selection of Sergeant Shee to fill the post left vacant by the sudden death of Justice Wight man is something more than the choice of the advo cate who, by common consent, had the first claim to the promotion. A judicial appointment which has won the cordial appoval of the profession stands in need of no apology or commendation ; but the first occasion on which a Roman Catholic lawyer has been ad mitted, in England, to the position which the Ca tholic Emancipation Act opened to the members of his Church is too important as a precedent, and too significant as a triumph of the principle of tolera tion, to be paesed over in silence. If experience had not taught us how much bigotry can remain in the hearts of those who are readiest with the cant of civil and religious liberty, it might well have seemed impossible that the special form of Chris tianity held by an honourable and distinguished advocate should be supposed to detract from his fitness for the judicial Bench. Argument in support of such an objection there could be none, for even Exeter Hall would not venture to insinuate against Mr. Justice Shee the kind of suggestion which it thought becoming in the case of the unfortunate Mr. Turnbull. But argument is not necessary to sustain bigotry, and there are no down; some who would have rejoiced the more at the continued exclusion of Mr. Sergeant Shee from the Bench because it would have been impossible to attribute it to any other motive than religious prejudice. It is only by slow degrees and painful effort that a nation ever really acquires the spirit of toleration ; bat a step once gained in England is gained for ever, and Lord Westbury's disregard of the fanatical objec tions to the appointment of a Roman Catholic judge will give fresh force to a :smen which, with all our boasting, Englishmen are slow to learn. It is no doubt a natural instinct of the human mind to deprive those who differ from us in religion of pecuniary emolument and professional distinc tion, and, as a means of enforcing uniformity of sentiment, the method, if only carried out far enough, is extremely efficacious. If those who ob jected (and it appears there were some such) to the recent appointment had professed to be moved by a sincere desire to convert the learned sergeant to the Church of England —or, failing that, to make his position as a member of his own Cburch as uncom fortable as possible—there would have been a logi cal, it no other, argument in favour of their prin ciple of persecution. But the awkward position of our English bigots is that they profess not to be lieve in persecution, and, at any rate, do not venture on the bold pretensions which (granting their own assumption of infallibility) were really unanswer able when put forth by the persecutors of the middle ages. The modern fry of petty persecutors dare not take the only ground on which their practice can be justified. 'feu would exclude an adherent of a different faith from the Bench, not with any hope of correcting or even punishing his theological errors, but on the pretence, which they do not them selves believe, that e a Rom ,n .Catholic judge cannot he trusted to do justice in a Protestant country. Such a theory is not only peculiarly inapplicable in the case to which it has been sought to apply it, but it is contradicted by all experience, and openly flouted by our own practice in Ireland and else where. It is quite clear that, whatever mischief a judge Nho reverences the Pope may be supposed capable of doing in England, where the Roman Catholics are few in number, and as a rule, high in station and loyal and tem perate in the political feelings, would be infi oitely aggravated in a country where the influence of theßoman Catholic priesthood is exercised chiefly over the lower classes, and has certainly, in times within our memory/been associated with move ments not conspicuous either for loyalty or legality. And yet in Ireland, where Ribbon Societies have to be put down, and the scales of justice to be held equally between Orange and Papal ruffians, it is the practice to rely upon the uprightness and pro fessional honcur of a .ttoman Catholic Bench, and it is not pretended that the trust is ever betrayed. The hottest zealot of Exeter Hall would scarcely have fancied that be saw in the career of Sergeant Shee any trace of fanatical blindness to the demands of justice in a case where the interests of a co-reli gionist might be concerned; but the objection, if it ned taken a formal shape, would no doubt have been that it was bad to make a precedent which, though safe for once, might be fraught with infinite danger on future occasions. The assumption of the influence of religious i.ras over the minds of laymen is made much more freely than experience warrants, and if there is any class of T hen to whom it is more than usually absurd to attribute a weakness of this kind, it is theclass of successful lawlvers from among whom the Bench is recruited. The whole training and habits of thought of a practising berrister are one course of correction for tendencies of this de scription. A lawyer is as much open to intellectual bias as any man in the world, but he scarcely knows how to import into his forensic or judicial duties the particular feelings and opinions which he may en tertain on politics or religion. The old lawyer who, when asked whether he was a Whig or a Tory, replied that he was a special pleader, is often referred to in a sense by no means complimentary to the sincerity of the profession ; but there is another sense in which it is perfectly true that a judge, how ever warm may be his political feelings or his religious faith, is of no politics and no reli gion when he sits upon the Bench. Very few men have ever acquired a position at the Bar which entitled them to aspire to judicial office without having learned to lay aside their own per sonal feelings entirely when once they were engaged in forensic business, and only the narrowest of alt bigotry would say that this gift of impartiality is enjoyed exclusively by the members of the Estab lished Church. The truth is that the murmurs—it tnurrnurs there were—at one of the best appoiet ments that could have been made, were but the echo of the old intolerance which lurks in some corner of the hearts of most of us. There will be a long battle yet before this or any other country will be fairly quit of the devil of persecution, and no blow struck in the cause of toleration ought to pass with' out recognition. In this sense the appointment of Mr. Justice Shee deserves an acknowledgment be yond what is ordinarily accorded to the selection of the fittest man for a post of high honour and re sponsibility. (From the Spectator.) Lord Palmerston has filled np the vacancy o n the Bench caused by the decease of Mr. Justice Wight has been man by the appointment of Sergeant e . an act of justice the more acceptable car s' be Saar es the principle of religious toleration ce into sub stantial practice. The law threw all posts, except in well, who the woolsack, open to Cbeanthe:.icsTthheirtspec-stiett yfeeealrinagagion, but would not but no Catholic in all that long period raised to the English the middle cldss has been that of Cro allow the g m i taoslse:Tatnedd satl:teospinienniownst,,o know that judges conceivable creed have still done honest of every wh i c h proscribes one-fifth of h bent to the i n clamour. It is time justice have s_ time away, end Lord Palmer stonthat a rule diate subjecis were s could have*selccted wept " MuiestY's imme no better man with whom to commence a fairer system. is a thorough lawyer, and is not an Ultramontane, Mr. S ergea nt Shea er, and will, we believe, by hi na do much to s conduct on the bench, remove a popular prejudice. (From the London Review.) The recent appointment to the vacant judgeship has received the warm approval of the Bar. By his genius and chiracter Mr. Justice Shea has lor;ig deserved the prize. To nave refused it him any longer would have been to say that no Roman Catholic lawyer, however elcquent, however dis tinguished, however fitted for tne office, was to be made a judge. That is an announcement which no English GovernMent would make, and which the English iaation is not prepared to receive. In these days questions of theological import are rarelY, if ever, mooted before a common law judg e ; and when the interests of the Chu r c h of England are npt directly or indirectly involved , n o Englishman' wishes to see unnecessary barriers interposed be tween merit and success. The only tangible dif ference between a Catholic and Protestant judger as far as the public arc concerned, is that it might possibly be deemed inconvenient for a Catholic to ir- attend the English cathedral service while nn c cuit. The difficulty will probably be found 000 rather of theory than practice. A ye ar ego 1.r.: Shee was appointed to travel one of the circui 1 ts 1 the south of England as a deputy. It was fan that he did not object on religious ground s to 01°5 the commission and attend Divine service in eVe the usual way. Judges, who are Dissenter s, or ll Unitarians, do so without reproach ; and w hat they may do, a Roman Catholic may do also. Were it even otherwise, two judges invariably travel the spring and summer aseiz=s in companYr a nd I) arrangement would easily have secured the pr?seti,e: of one upon occasions where the presence °l nt judge was made important by sound and en,F ie , ho custom. It is a tribute to the discretion e' Government to be able to say that, while the scientious feelings of the new judge on relitr°llver subjects need no vindication, no contretemp s is e „ likely to occur under the regime (.4 Mr. Justic e She In his elevation to the Bench the Bar loses its greatest orator ; and perhaps its only orator Pr. ° ' perly so called Teose who have heard Mr Shea Ig t his thy-It speeches have heard something that is n u r easily reproduced. There are other and Yelluged speakers at the Bar, whose genius file eloquence are of the highest order. 1, r age, the presence, the dignity, and the P( of Mr. Justice Shee placed him at the head k ° l all. It is said usually that he was not a suc cess o Parliamentary debater. His style perhaps is , t h ° o purely oratorical for the House of Commons / 0 present day. But at the Bar, in the conduct e' case of great public interest, when he had enj° e ,, full time to prepare his line of argument and to rod" to the level of the subject, Sergeant Shee could bala Westminster Hall breathless with suspense an a interest for hours. Mr. Gladstone is a flue nt 0 sceomplished rhetorician, qualified by his c ult ;ion and his nature to ravish the ears of a busisieBbe like assembly of educated gentlemen. It sr ll e a long before he ever shakes and thrills an audie:ll-a as Mr. Shee has often before now shaken Lor d crowe courts. Since the appointment of the present t Chief Justice of the Queen's Bench the bar hadli°,o another speaker of the sort ; and Mr. Shee's Yeli;B and presence have of late given him an adv a i t° 74 which even Lord Chief Justice Cockburn did h n ie f possess while at the bar. The new judg e' s e 'ci l a difficulty will be to subside into a preaident• I pa e court where he has been so long an orator. u—be advocates, it is said, make bad judges. It is i t : inn hoped that Mr. Justice Shee will be an eaceP",:v 1 to the rule, which he will no doubt have I ll " temptations to trargress. -nos For some years Mr. Sergeant Shee healed the nt in virtue of his rank of Queen's sergeant and his Pstetbe of precedence. Of late, his appointment t ° t he Bench has been almost demanded on the par t (1 ' „ 0 .. profession. It has been a gro wing habit with eil h l o4 ceilors to make their appointments to jud ges- lo serve Parliamentary purposes. Men have b e g n de , talk as if a seat in Parliament and success es il ia bater in the Commons were necessary stePPdie stones to the Bench. The idea is distasteful ablest bulk of the profession, which sees some of its es and most learned leaders excluded by circurastilecil at this moment from the House. They na tu , fi ll o re feel that genius and profound learning are, ; — „• ca l important qualifications for a judge than P°",,'" z, activity and interest. Why are X and ° ll " t be and A and B not judges They are masters of e _ English law, and their character is naturall,_ experience and talent. Barristers will that the e -u . continue to think it a poor answer to say lawyers have not had the luck to be elected some where to serve on the other side of Westminst er Hall. The honours of the bar, in their opinioi: should be for the bar alone. At the bottom, actor , s ingly, of the enthusiasia with which Mr. She e . ,_ elevation has been welcomed, there is a strong s t _e' ar ((just to th_ l ; timent of the kind. It is said indeed, that then 1.1 to intend to signalise the event by a dinrer giv 3. Vic, new judge himself. We cannot vronder et 1 . We can well understand that no vacant judgesblPr could be more popularly bestowed than on a laWY e a who is both esteemed for his personal qualities, al ) who, in .a certain sense, is the father of the proles' sion— the Grand Batonnier of the order of fish advocates. COUNTRY MARKETS. - - - 11 NORWICII—SiTu RDAY. There WAS a good supply of wheat to - day , but the general decline in the price of Niheat caused a dull niarketa Millers were not free buyers, and sales made wore eff‘ cte f at a reduction of is per qr on late prices. A fair malting barley, and late prices were about maintained for -- sorts ; inferior, dull. Flour Gd cheaper. Al; to 420 White wheat. 44s to 46- 1 Red wheat ........ ;35s to Malting barley ...36s to 3 7s Chevalier barley.•.34s to Distilling d 0..... 30s to 32s I 0at5.............. 24, Flour, 23s Od to —s ed per sack from the NOTTINGHAM—SATURDAY. 4 1 j fair A tolerably good show of wheat to-day, mos"Y n for condition. The demand was firm, and late prices made the best sorts; inferior, ls rqr lower thanola: --White wheat, from 40s to 455; red wheat, Barley—malting, 30s to 408 ; grinding, Deans sold a t old, at 24s to 31s Od; new, 20s to 255. to 438 per qr. ; new, 35s to 375. 278 to 30s- u„f. ttow°4s_o. GRAN THAM—SATunDA.Y. 6st• Old white wheat, 44s to 48s • red, 398 to 4257per, 3 rie y, new white, 40s to 455; red, 32; to 428. Malting 1 4 y t) 338 to 36s per qr ; grinding, 28s to 30s ; oats, old, 28s ; new, 20s to 24s ; beans, 33s to 40 s ; pe as, 34s to ;5" NORTHAMPTON--SATURDAY. .v, Du; There was a fair average show of wheat to-,`'ilocu the attendance was only mod erate, and buyers Pr nr ices• sparingly, at a slight reducti on u p on last week Inre —White wheat 40s to 45s ; red, 37s to 40s t 32 to —s per qr. Barley, 35s to 37s—grinding. 288 peas; Oats, 28s to 32s per 24 stone. Beans, 3Ss to 42 3 e 34s to 408 per qr. YORTi—SATURDA.Y. f ivb e l We were supplied with a moderate quantity°for gOO-- from the farmers. Prices generally maintai ned dry lots, with an improved demand. igs 2 04 to W heat, red Hs to 41s 0at5...... .. . ... ss ; to 4v ; White do .42s to 46s Beans ........... __. s to -7 13 Barley .28s to 32s Peas ......... ... goat 3 Malt, 5Ss to 60s per qr.; rye, 32s per c l . " to 32s per back. LEICESTER—SATURDA.f. Cr 59 stone. Old red, 39s to 41s per 36 stone. New white wheat, 40s to 45s ; red, '3BE to 41- I', i i stp Barleh o ' s ts, rew, 33s to 38s per qr.; grinding, 29s to 32E; °-130109 25e to 30s; new oats, 22s to 25s per 24 sto ne. _ e , old, 38s to 42s per 38 stone ; flour, 30s to 35s per 2 0 otou GENERAL BRAGG (according to Colonel 141.- t mantle's account of him) is in appearance the l e4 ;, Prepossessing of the Confederate Generals. ne 18 very thin , he stoops, and has a sickly, cadaverous, 1'14°14, appearance, rather plain features, bushy black eYebr:bb'y which unite in a tuft on the top of his nose , til t 4 i Bt • iron-gray i beard ; but his eyes ara bziglit 8 . 12 " Ie has the reputation of being a rigid disciPl'll° be stand it; of shooting freely for insubordination. j u nder - r a ther unpopular on this account, and also by reason of his occasional acerbity of manner. BVTLIN.—On the 17th i nst., Births. at Busted Hall, Susses, t° r r A l i j v a e t g h y e , inst., 8 , tz wile of F. E. Butiin, I:sq., of a sou. DICKINSON. —On the 18th inst., at 11, Chesterfieldstr ceto Mayfair, the wife of . 11. Dickinson, MI) , o f a B on. DAYIS.—O the 16th inst,, at 8, Cornwall-villas, West' bourne-park, the wife of M. Boulton Davis, Esq., of * son. SUGDYIN.--On the . 17 n th inst., the wife of the Hon. nol R o v. Arthur Sugde , Newdigate Rectory, of a eon. '''''':Argyle-square, rhoMmaas A ~vEy.....IIOIVITT.—On the Cohttrell to Marian, daughter of Grantham. the late Thomas Ho,witt, Beg.' and Grosvenor -park, S,, to Alice, third daughter lIANHOW—TAY'th Denmark-hill Lon.—on the 17th inst., at St. M a rley; , MR. of Pentonvillet of Grosvenor r ichd. II syhow, of FOlldillreb-stree't f jOl ,ll. Taylor, E , South. ' ' , ,q. of Clement's•lane, and De Crespigny-01 Deaths. " F .—On the 171 h inst., at Kentish-town, Freak. 1;. BILOWN Brown, O n of the late Commander Bourwaster Bros R.N., aged 21, EDE,—On the 17th inst. , Jose p h Ede, Esq., of Is lll3o°9' aged 79. Geonwirkr.—On the 17th inst. , at freigham, N o rwiel 11,0 Rev. Win. Goodwin, M.A., aged 68. HOPE.—Ou the 18th inst., at Langham-place, Adrian I°llll ce Hope, Esq. Jain LANG —On the 18th inat. , a t Beddington, Surrey, A. Lang, Et.q. r rat S II ILLIIIGFORD.—On the 15 th inst., William Shilling'°- Esq., of Eynsham, Oxon. TosswiLL.—On the 18 th ins t., Mr. Tosswill, of 2, 1311c lersbury, city. WEDDERBURN.—On the 16th inst , at Camberwell, Clias' W. Wedderburn, Esq. I' 3 London: Prir..!(l. and Pilq.islted by WILLIAM A.Nl).. of co. 112, Strand, Printer, at Tim SUN Office V°•,,,t Strand, the PreCinct 01 the lavoy. n OVfit' knittleaex, -Monday, axember 21,1E63. 1 T csl Fltl Fit ?ROPE' To nr, througto No. 67 CI 'PREE I Of lamie, the nob 1( COttare ONinsTE b'ace t i lifford s t:ufate' Lumley Where th the Yenienee' TilEtu chaser iE and then Nor PI Thin C h iercanti Seale of • Partic atreet. rr a Ir Capital ber.o , it No fu tot lel L Liven w. nion Old Il Antho n Rails venr ze North Joseph Etna Atanros whoa. Rathi Srni 'horna ▪ Bank Lantair East( Oct4vi t Weal Joseph (Ti Bank ( Thit under other hither nbbil of tb of .£ Cow corm any You 0111: