Colored News. — London, England, 1855-09-01 00:00:00

THE SIG I I PI I '~\i~ pli ; :NI La Morgue stands near to the water's edge. On the east, the lofty towers of the cathedral of Notre Dame look down upon this half-way house to the rave;g on the north, the narrow and filthy streets of the city pour forth their squalid populations, while towards the cast, the spectator can just obtain a glimpse of the palace of the Tuileries. On that side of the Morgue which is furthest from the river is an open space covered with the stalls of many a marchand des quatre saisons. This dismal building is divided into two portions, one occupied by the private apartments of the keeper of this abode of death, and the other open to the public. On two sides of the latter are seen iron bars, enclosing two spaces, in which are placed slanting boards something like the guard-room bed of the English soldier, and on these, deprived of every covering excepting such as mere decency requires, lie the bodies of persons found dead. Age and infancy, youth and sturdy manhood, the young and delicate female form by the side of that of the grey and aged crone, all alike levelled by death. A small stream of water is constantly falling over these remains of mortality, to keep the surface of the skin moist. Behind each corpse, the clothes of the deceased are suspended • , n 41-in, TTI fl ten +;•gnrl lL gum mt., tile Ully ILL vi uk., j The remains of the unfortunate creatures themselves after remaining a certain time, are either burned or delivered over to the authorities of the hospital, the latter is their usual fate. One reason why the relatives of the poorer classes arc so frequently unowned, is the large fee of sixty frances paid to the city chest to reclaim them. The causes Of the death of thosC that are brought to this Parisian bonehouse are necessarily various. ITS art ' Ell OF THE COLORED NEWS. PARIS, No. ~,,~ 0 ~, d ei '` k :.•31 " N • - N41 14 ,,Z 1.-THE MORGUE. . . , , , _' , _‘ ' - - VISITORS GAZINC UPON TIIE DEAD IN THE ➢iORGUI which its possessors set their hands. We do not, indee wish to hear le voix des femmes, as it has lately been hew on the other side of the channel. We should be sorry to the wives and daughters of England quitting the fireside round which they have thrown so irresistible a charm, to jo. in controversial clubs and discussion societies. But the, are causes which, in a peculiar degree, call on the ladies this country for support, and which, from the truly charitab nature of their objects, should never be suffered to call vain. And the haif-holiday Movement is of the numbe The duty of shopping is one which peculiarly belongs to tl ladies—it is one of their most necessary duties—one of the most favourite amusements. And we submit it to them to those who have the power of at once putting an end the acknowledged evils of the present late hour system- shall it continue or not ? Will you, ladies, do your s'hoppii in the day ?—will you insist upon your household doing si —or will you still let hundreds, nay thousands, of young m and young women, too, sink annually into an early grave ?. the victims to a system unprofitable to the public, to you selves, and to employers as well as the employed ? To you is but a question of a few hours convenience. But to mai it is a question of life and death. Ladies of Encrhind the put an end to this system. It does not require } j 'ou to for societies—it does not require you to agitate, but let each f herself resolve to discontinue and to forbid wherever she h the power, the , practice of late shopping Speak but t word, ladies, and as if by magic —it is don't ON THE ROYAL VISIT TO FRANCE. That day shall long remembered be, on that historic shore EMI -year in re—nu .nd his estimal with i near I required in ti William NV I Ann 1 two child becnm he am consort ,nt exercise by t Lancashire SEPTr.MBER 1, 1855. ~\\\\~ visitor r tot} Th© old yeai 1848, 1 got Guilt.% Cheshire, co hip si Grace the Duke of mous sum of £50,000 ,nd buildings, and in n in th munificent Noble Duke 11. P., ad- alive at ' The prisoner to his first wife. ie after nted with the se in Worces consented to THE HALF-lIOLIDAY MOVEMENT. WHEN first, in the month of October, 1842, a few individuals connected with the drapery business formed themselves into an association for the purpose of abridging the hours of labour in shops, they were met not only with ridicule and contempt, but with the most determined opposition. And since then—since the Metropolitan Drapers' Association has extended its views so as to embrace all trades, and has merged into the Early Closing Association, with how much opposition, prejudice, and ridicule have not its promoters had to contend ! But in spite of this, the cause—as all good ever do—has gone on progressing and prospering ; _ nd the half-holiday meeting which took place last week 3,vay a triumph of principle over prejudice of no common kind It was a triumph to see the magistrates of the first coin mercial city in the world congregating together on that occa sion. It was a triumph to hear ministers of the Gospel stand forth and proclaim that the late hour system was an unchristian one. And that with all the high privileges of their sacred office, they deemed it not one of the least to be allowed to stand forward to abolish this system. It was a triumph to hear masters and employers who had tried the early closing system declare that they, so far from having lost by it, were absolute gainers. And though last, it was very far from the least of these triumphs to see the meeting attended by so very large a number of ladies. We have, and always have had great faith in female influence. We do no not doubt its power of carrying any cause to w hen such nign triumph there was hem, as ne'er was held bcfc The day the foot of England's Queen the soil of Gallia prest, Her welcome ringing through the land, a nation's honoured gu A victory that day was won, unstained by blood or tears, O'er prejudice and jealousies and hatred of long years. That day beheld dispersed the ling'ring clouds of error's night, The advent of the true and real—the triumph of the right. What falsehoods perished on that day, what memories of the I What smoldering ashes of old strife were scattered to the blase The day two generous peoples met, that foes had been too lon Aroused at length to learn how each had done the other wro7 That day a brighter future dawned upon those nations `wai' That now shall be the prayer of both, may never set aF ;,n First of thy race—Victoria—it was reserved for th e the The dawning of that wished-for day, that better time to see 'Twas thine to land in peaceful state, on that once hostile sh Thy kingly sires with fire and sword had wasted long before 'Twas thine to pass in triumph o'er the sunny plains of Fral Where they had moved in dark array of serried shield and 1 Where they had pealed the note of war and battle's loud ala .nt gay, mid greetin 'Twas thine to pass in pas,., . deep and war 'Twas thine to win the bloodless trophies of a nobler field, 'Twas thine to wear those brighter spoils their arms could ni . - The homage of a race that once the name of foeman bore, The tribute of a nation's friendship won for evermore. 'Twas thine to hear that thrilling cry, first heard since Franc been, _ _ That hailed the name of Albion, and Albion's island Queen, In that auspicious hour 'twas thine to play that nobler part, So worthy of thy Queenly grace and gentler woman's heart, 'Twas thine to break the last worn link of error's hated chain And set two peoples free that ne'er shall thus be bound again The genius of the scene wert thou, that high presiding stood, And seal'd the sacred bond of peace and nation's brotherhood John Bul, Sept. 184 x and the pri )pin Maiden- 3 in body The ch d after