The Daily Times.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1860-05-09 00:00:00

the erection of church and schools and a master's house,
and this sum includes the architect's commission,
the legal ' expenses, and ' the furnishing of the
church and schools. Surely, this is not a great sum
for the accomplishment of so good and great an object.
We wanted schools in this district, as there are no others
than those of the Domestic Mission, and their numbers
from my district are not large ; for, though in day and
night scholars and Sunday scholars, they have on the
books more than 400, yet only 12 from us, out of at
least 1,000 children who ought to be at school ; and, if
any should say that there is room for our children in the
schools of the adjoining districts, I say that there is
room little enough for even the Protestant children of
these districts. And, further, it must be admitted that
it is most desirable that each clergyman should have the
education of the children of his own district under his
own eye. I would conclude by saying that, though I
felt great reluctance in complying with the request to
lay this stone, yet I feel thankful that so good a work is
begun, which I trust will prosper to its close. We have
now 200 children in our temporary Sunday School, and
I trust that by this time next year we shall have twice
this number. And now, though I still wish for the
merchants to give me a few annual subscriptions, to keep
the schools at work, yet I trust that the tradespeople of
the neighbourhood will flock around me, and co-operate
with me in this good work, that, as the merchants have •
given us a start, we may trouble them as little as pos-
sible in the future. If we would hand down our country
as the glory of the world, we must educate our children;
if these young minds are not trained they will run wild,

and produce ranch evil. The problem of a nation's
prosperity is solved in the religious and intellecttud edu:
cation of the people.
Mr. FRANK MILL said he had taken the warmest

interest in the success of the schools, and he congratu

lated the incumbent on the progress which had been made
in providing means for the education of the children in
the district. He had accompanied Mr. Postance in
asking for contributions, and bore testimony to the readi-

ness and liberality with which they were received by the
merchants of Liverpool, and mentioned that the list

of subscribers contained n4any Dissenters. (If ear, bear.)
Mr. W. GREQSQN then addressed the siserubly, and
said he rejoiced at the prospect of obtaining such excel-
lent schools. A church they had already, but a church
without schools was like a fold for the sheep without a
fold for the lambs also. (Hear, hear.) The merchants

and the ladies of Liverpool had done their work nobly,

and it remained for the parents of those children who
would be received in the school to complete the work

by aiding the incumbent in his efforts to reform the

inhabitants of the gstriat, The speaker enlarged upon
he advantages alid the nesea4ty of education, and urged
. .

the people of the parish to endeavour to make their ch
drew better than themselyes in that respect.

The Rev, IL PDSTAXPE, iu the course of an iuterestiog
address, avowed his belief that it was Hopeless to attempt
to elevate the adult population of the district. They

had been utterly neglected when young, and the work

of reformation must therefore be directed to the benefit

of the children.

The proceedings were shortly afterwards brought to a
close. The silver trowel which was presented tq the
incumbent bore the subjoined inscription :—" Preseided

the Rev. Henry Postance, incumbent of Holy Trinity

Church, Toxteth-park, on the occasion of his laying the

Foundation stone of the National Schools in connection

with that church, May Bth, 1860."

LIVERPOOL POLICE COURT, YESTERDAY,

(Before Mr. RAFFLIIS.)
POCKET-PICKINO.-4ohp Whitley and Mary Martin were
charged with having picked the pocket of Ellen Jones of a
purse containing 20 pawn-tickets. On the 30th ult., about four
o'clock, the proseeutrix caught the prisoner Martin's hand in
her poCket, and she passed the purse to her companion. The
prisoners were sent to the sessions for trial.
Ronazag ra 4 UnNANT.-41ary Quigly, domestic servant,
in the employ of James Bailey, Oldliall-steeet, was remanded
on a charge of stealing £l4 from a drawer on the 29th April.
A CHARGE OF EmarzzLxmeNa.---A man named John Dealy,
in the employ of Messrs. Henry Thomas & Co., manufacturers,
of Manchester, was brought up on n charge of embezzling £5O
of his employers' moneys. . A family connection existed
between the prisoner and Messrs. Thomas, therefore no person
appeared to prosecute, and the prisoner was dismissed.
STEALING A CoAr.---Anne Crutchley was brought up on a
charge of stealing a coat, valued at £3, the property of a man
named klonias Crane. Thg coat was taken from the lobby of
the prosecutor's house on Tnestiay night. Sent to sessions.
ASSAULT.--Mary Fanigan was charged with assaulting
Thomas Colton, with intent to rob him. The assault took
Place in Trueman-street on the previous night; and it was of
a serious character, the sufferer's eye being cut with a stone.
Fined £5, or in default two months' imprisonment.
A CHARGE OF SrAneixe.---Cecilia Lloyd, charged with stab-
bing Ann Sweeny, on Monday night, in Burlington-street, was
dismissed, no prosecutor appearing.

MR. AND MRS. CHARLES KEAN AT
TH'E THEATRE-ROYAL.-.

Last night Mr. and Mrs. C. Kean appeared here in
the translation of Casimir Delavigne's play of "Louis
X 1.," in which Mr. Kean plays the character of The
.ICing—a- character so well suited to his extraordinary
abilities, that it might have been specially written
for him. As this is the first time the piece has
been presented to a Liverpool audience, and as its
repetition is sure to be demanded, we shall in-
troduce our notice of the play by a brief account of that
part of French history which it is so admirably calcu-
lated to illustrate. Louis XI., King of France, son
of Charles VII., was born in 1423. In 1440 he left
the court, and put himself at the head of an in-
surrection. Charles defeated the rebels, and executed
some of them, but pardoned his son, and latterly
became entirely reconciled to him. The son, however,
having soon entered into new conspiracies, was obliged
to take refuge in Burgundy, and lived there some years
in a dependant condition. The father died in 1461,
through fear of being, poisoned, or, as some have
said, from having been poisoned, by his son. Louis,
on hearing of his father's death, instantly mounted
his horse, and hastened to Rheima, where he was
crowned. He was then in his 39th year. He had
considerable shrewdness and penetration, but every
faculty of his mind was perverted by being directed
to unworthy ends. He was cruel, malignant, and
ungrateful, and was never known to forgive' an injury
or repay a kindness, unless, indeed, he had some
selfish object to gain by it. He was, moreover,
so excessively cunning and artful that his whole life
was one =tinned act of deceit. He was avaricious by
nature, but often prodigal through policy; saving even
to parsim'ony in his personal expenses, especially in his
dress, which commonly consisted of a coarse jacket,
but liberal in his presents, or rather bribes, to persons '
whose services he could in no other way secure. He
was a stranger to every kindly feeling and natural affec-
tion; and never was a man more feared and distrested
by all wile had tq do with him, and more hated and
despised by all who have known end nnderstood his
character and deeds. The first act of his government
was to deprive his brother of everything his 'tither had
given him, excepting the oounty of Berri. He dismissed
his father's ministers, and turned off all the officers of
the household and replaced them by men of low extrac-
tion and mean habits—barbers, tailors, &c.—who, he
thought, would be more subservient to his will than he
could expect persons of higher station to be. For an
account of the various struggles and stratagems by
which this unprincipled and cruel nicieareli gradually
evereame or outlived 44 most feared and hated rivals
we must refer our readers to history, some of the inci-
dents of which have been so finely portrayed by Sir
Walter Scott in his Quentin Durward. We need only
note here the fact that among other acts of crime
Louis destroyed his brother, the Duke of Berri, by
administering poison to him in an apricot. Now
was the time when, instead of enjoying, as he
had hoped, the fruits of his labours, he was to pay
penalty of his crimea. From about this period of his
history are taken the incidents of the play, in which,
however, the real history, of course, is not necessarily
followed with close precision. His constitution was
breaking down, and the fear of death filled him with
indescribable horrors. He hail the first warning of its
dreaded approach in March, 1480, when, as he was sitting
at dinner, he was suddenly deprived of speech awl apse
by an attack of something like apoplexy. He remained
ctqfte clays it} that condition, and although he partially
recovered from the effects of this attack, he never after-
wards regained his former health. As his bodily
strength declined the malevolence of his temper
increased, and he became more jealous and saspidioue
than ever. Conscious, as he himself, in an exhortation
to his son, acknowledged "that he had grievously
oppressed his people," he lived in continual dread of
their retaliation. He shut himself up in his castle of
Plessis, near Tours ; and, in addition to the customary
fortifications, caused it to be surrounded with ditches, in
which were placed iron' spikes ; and, not daring to
trust to the fidelity of his own subjects, he had a band
of foreign archers, who kept guard at the gate of the
castle day and night. The castle could only be entered I
by a wicket, vrhich 0044 bat qne person at a time,
and he suffered no person of rank to be lodged within
it, excepting an imbecile lord, who had married his
eldest and favourite daughter, and whom he thought
incapable of ferming dangerous machinations against
him. Louis had the greatest possible dread of the
nobles and -princes of the blood, and kept them at a
distance. His chief and familiar associates were liver
le Pain, his barber; Tristan l'Herinite, his executioner;
and Jacques CoitiO, his physician. To the last of these
this most tyrannical monarch was an absolute slave. The
artful Coitier pretended that an astrologer had predicted
that his death should take place a few days before that of
the king; and the king consequently watched over his life
with anxious care, loaded him with presents, and sub-
mitted to all his insolence and humours. The more
Louis became conscious of his declining state, the more
he sought to conceal it from the 'Toed. But though' he
enclear94o.4 tq deceive' gibers, ha conid not deceive
hipaseLf. The nearer death approached the more
his dread of it increased. To ward it —off -he
tried all the arts of • superstition. He caused
himself to be anointed with the holy oil from Rheims ;
he loaded himself with the relics of the saints, and
sent processions to their shrines, praying that they
would prevent the north-east wind from blov(ing,
because it seemed to increase his disorder; bit he placed
his greatest hopes in Vrangois de. FA' ide, a holy hermit
of tJalabria, TOO had the reputation of working miracles
and of restoring to health by his prayers. He
sent for him to Toarst and frequently on his knees besohght
him to prolong his life. The holy man in vain repre-
sented to him that the power of prolonging it lay only
with God; and bade him turn his thoughts towards the
next world, instead of thinking su exclusively of this.
These miserable struggles to avert the inevitable hand
of death were soon, however, to terminate. After being,
as was supposed, almost, if not wholly dead, he momen-
tarily revived, and would gladly heve resumed 116 crown ;
but death finally iritarponed. lie died in 1483, having
lived t years, and reigned 22. It is said that Louis XL
caused upwards of 4,000 persons to be put to death by
different means of torture and execution, marl of which
he himself took pleasure in witnessing. This false,
sordid, cruel, and impioes man To the first French
monarch who received the title of *on Cifutsusie
KING ! His eldest son succeeded him as Charles VIII.
The play is not so much an elaborated plot as a
succession of scenes in which the character of the king is
brought out to advantage. The Due de Nemours of the
play is the son of the former duke, whom Louis caused to
be cruelly executed. The young Due, supposed to have
been also effectually put out of the way, appears at
court under a disguised name, as envoy from Bur-
gundy. The king accidentally discovers that there is
some mystery about him, and worms out the secret
from his lady-love. While PcOtending to, agree to
concede the object of the disguised envoy's mission,
he secretly concocts his death, and in the mean-
time the news of the defeat and death of the
Duke of Burgundy arrived, when Louis drops his
mask, charges the envoy VeAtlit being the Due de
Nemours, and orders him into cnstody. Through the
friendship of the court physician, Nemours is set at
liberty, but instead of taking himself to flighty, secretes
himself in the king's chamber, and, on lAnding the
king alone, accuses him of his tether's murder, and
places a dagger to the king's broskst. The king falls
insensible, and the duke, rather than kill him, leaves
him to die of remorse, and escapes, but is re-caught.
The physician is imprisoned. Death approaches. The
holy friar cannot save him by miracle. The king
privately confesses—but such a confession of the
most awful crimes—which ho yet excuses, and
absolution is denied him. The doctor is released
only when it is too late to apply his, healing art. The
bell tolls for, the cecution Of liemours,, and the king
himself, in the moment of death, with difficulty is per-
saaded to pardon the duke, The last scene of the royal
life is one of despairing agony, such as none could
desire to behold in real life, and which are even most
touching and instructive in the mirror of Art.
As we have said, the play might have been written
for the purpose of enabling Mr. Kean to, assume the
character of the King, it is 19 well suited to his capa-
bilities. The sudden changes from business to religion,
and haek again to thoughts of murder—the momentary
[seriousness and sudden revulsion ta prosaic common
place—the sneers at all kind or generous feeling on the
part of the Dauphin, with the significant remark, "I
was a Dauphin myself once," contrasted with his
cringing terror, when he fears danger to himself—afford
scope for all those sudden changes " from grave to gay,
from lively to severe," and from high-$:4% poktry to
every-day life, which marked the innovation, of Mr.
Kean's father upon the Kemble school of acting, We
can imagine what old I(eau 'would have done
with such a character, and Mr. Charles Kean has
realised that conception with success. The dying scene
was terribly grand—such as Mr. Charles Kean alone
can picture. In all the scenes with the Due de Ne-
mours, with the Dauphin, with the Coutt Physician
(exceedingly well played by Mr. J. C. Cew,pe;), and
with Tristan l'Hermite (played by Mr. G. Everett,
brought down by Mr. Kean), the spirit of the wile
was fait4f\illy kept up,' and with great truth and
expression. The scenes in which the superstitious
workings 'of the royal mind were depicted, were
graphic and moving beyond description. We have
never seen Mr. Kean to such advantage in any chit.

racter. The whole weight of the yerfor,zrytnce seems
to fall upon him, yet he trkaiiiiswea the character
throughout with unexampled fidelity and unflagging
energy. We never sat in an, audience ions entranced
with interest in the progress, of the plot, all 4. ttletr
appi,ause was rqost eAthAsiasti,c. Mr.. Icefkla VAirslyice
called before the curtain 4ci %oat lc aly elmrt4, The
incidents are weft arranged for duktiAtio situation, and

•
14e play i 4,Arni..t-raibly put upon the stage. Mrs, 0,
lean played the part in which she Appeared last,night
with her usual skill and good taste. The Daupliin was
played by Miss clltEtpmfoi; awl Marie, th@ 444111tCr of

Philip de Cominee, was played by Km N. Chapman,
both of whom have been brought down by Mr. Kean.
They are pleasant looking ladles and neat actresses.' Mri"
Cathcart, who took-the part of the Dub de Nemoure, was •
a very great acquisition, an-4 bids fair to be a first-rate
actor. What he had to do last night lie did very well.
Mr. W. Cooper came in very usefully as the representa-
tive of Oliver le Dain, the barber minister, and Mr.
Lunt made a very good friar. We hope that " Louis
XI." will be repeated oftener than once. The audience
was numerous and fashionable.
To-night " The Wife's Secret" will be produeed—a
melodrama of intense interest, in which Mr, and Mrs.
Kean appear to the very best advantage.

BANKRUPTS. •

Edmund Jones, hosier, late of Fenchurch-street, City,
and Dulwich, and new of Battersea.
James Smith, grocer, Fareham, Rants,
John Samuel Beale, surgeon and apothecary,
.Padding-
ton-green.
#
=
John Wilson, shipowner, formerly of Sunderland. n
James Palmer, ironmonger, Gloucester.
George Rieke, jeweler, and dealer in watches and
clocks, Camdentown.
Frederick Miller, lead and glass merchant, Portland-
street, Oxford-street.

'Vincent Allen, draper, Newport, Monmouthshire.
Joseph Bell, shipwright and boat builder, Liverpool.
John Newns and John Hampton Wilkinson, drapers,
Wolverhampton.
Thomas Mills, chemist and druggist, Ashton-under-
Lytle.

The death of the Countess of Strathmore, wife of the
Right Hon. W. Hutt, M.P., is announced..
It is said the French are to have a grand national
review this summer.
It is presumed that the Bishop of London does not
intend to proceed further with the ease of the Rev.
James Bonwell, rector of St. Philip's, Stepney, not-
withstanding the censures of a coroner's jury and snb-
seque.nt nnfavourable reports of a commission of enquiry
under the Church Discipline Act. The rev. gentleman
reappeared in the pulpit on Sunday.
"Angus," of the Post, says :—" Pullinger has been
talked of very much as connected with the turf, but it is
extraordinary to think he never saw a race in his life,
although he had Clemanthe and several others in training
in connection with a gentleman at Reading. I regret
to state, however, he has victimised Mr. Parr out of
£6,000 worth of securities, which he deposited in a box
in his charge at the bank, and which it is feared the
directors will not refund.*' From the same authority
we learn that " William Days horses are all to be sold
on Bath racecourse, as in future he is only going to train
far his employers; and those who wish to possess the
Promised Land may like to hear they will have to write
a cheque for three thousand guineas for him ; and as a
trial horse he is worth every shilling of the money."
TWENTY - FOUR HEAD OF CATTLE BURNBIL TO
DEATH.—On Sunday evening, a most destructive fire
broke out on the premises, of Mr. Gilliam Thornycroft,
farmer, of the nlnock Farm, Gawsworth, near Mactiltis-
field. The flames were discovered issuing from one of
the shippons, and efforts were at once made to get out
the cattle. Upon effecting an entrance, however, it
became evident that the fire had been raging with con-
siderable fury in the interior of the building for some
time. The charred carcases of cows, heifers, and stirks
were strewn in all directions ; and whilst efforts were
being made to rescue whatever of the stock might sot
already have been destroyed, -the ceiling of the shippons
fell in, burying the cattle which were still alive. The
timely arrival of the engine from Macclesfied saved *e
farmhouse from destruction, but the spacioua pile of
outbuildings was completely gutted. A considerable
quantity of hay, and were' head of cattle were saved.
The loss, which includes 24 head of cattle, is said to be
covered by insurance,
DISGRACEFUL OUTRAGE IN A CHAPEL AT WAKEFIELD.
—An extraordinary and dastardly outrage was perpe-
trated early on Sunday morning, at.the Baptist. (Inde-
pendent) Chapel, Wakefield, which remains enshrouded'
in great mystery. Shortly before service time, en the'
morning named, the chapel-keeper went to the chapel
for the purpose of performing his usual duties, when he,
found that the place had been desecrated shortly
previous, as the walls, pulpit, and nearly, all the pews,
were saturated with"coal tar. On further examination
it was also ascertained that nearly, the whole of the
valuable books belonging to the establishment and the
congregation had. been thrown into the baptismal font
(which was full of water), and coal tar poured in, so as
to render the • worthless. Informatton was at once
giyen to the, chief constable of the borough force, Mr.
lf‘Pouald, and this vigilant °fiber feund, on inspection
of the chapel, iicces had been gained by forcing, open
one of the school-room windows. In an ashpit adjacent
was discovered a bucket which had recently contained
coal tar, also a painter's brush, and a pair of leather
gloves, all of which had been used by the perpetrators
of the disgraceful act. The two former has since been
identified by a man u,s,med George, Senior, who resides
iu the George and Crown Yard, Northgate, and who

night previous, Notwithstanding the most strenuous
ass.erta that they were stolen from his premises on the
exertions of the police, not.the slightest clue, to the par-
ties has yet been obtained. A reward of £lO is offerecl
for such information as will lead to the conviction of
the miscreants. In the absence of any, other ,cause, the
act is supposed to have conneetion with some religious
differences which recently arose amongst the congregae
tion respecting their minister.—Leeds Expres.s-
THE GREAT. FAILURE; IN Ananuargq.—The sad
consequences of the great failure of the firm of John
and Anthony. Blaikie, advocates' and land factors,: Aber-
deen, are daily becoming more apparent. Th'e total
amount of the shortcomings of Mr. John Blaikie is ',et
down as at least £300,000 ; and in this sum is ~.,'"icallowed
up the savings of tradesmen, the scanty milons of not
a few widows and maiden ladies
!;ailies who have
seen better days, the rents a many large landed pro-
prietors, and also it is 4‘l
monies intended to be
--r'.
invested security and in bond ; while 'a noble earl
well known in tho, Free Church religious Community,
and who takes 'lsis title from a royal burgh not twenty
miles diotant from Aberdeen is reported to be in for not
lei than £lOO,OOO. In truth it may be said there was
unbounded Confidence placed in John Blackie. He is it
member of a family who for half a century at least
have most worthily held the very highest name and
credit in the north of Scotland. His father and uncle
—men of untainted reputation and honour—both for
years held the office of Lord Provost of Aberdeen ; his
brother-in-law is, without doubt, the most popular and
eminent Free Church minister in the same place, while
he himself Wall looked upon as one of the kindest-hearted
and ablest business men in his native city, and as such
was a great favourite amongst all classes. Not yet past
the prime and vigour of life, an accomplished scholar, a
very graceful and effective public speaker, he was, with-
out opposition, elected a few years back a member of
the town council, for the chief chair of which he has
often been named. His business duties, however, soon
made him withdraw from all municipal honours. In
the country, as in the town, he was held in much
estimation. He was commissary clerk for Aberdeenshire •
—a sinecure office which yielded £6OO yearly, and thb
extent of the private business of the Blaikie firm may
be in some measure calculated from the circumstance

lat they employed nearly 20 legal and other assiatantL
[t is but right to state while as yet nothing seems to be

known of the whereabouts of Mr. John Blaikie, his
younger brother and partner, Mr. Anthony, 'remains at
his post using every effort to get matters into the beit

order possible. It is believed on every baud that this
gentleman was ignorant of, and quite free from, any of
the unfortunate ventures which have led to the present
lamentable state of aftltirt—wentures which may be
described as wild speculations in American railway lines
and large cargoes of teas and silks.
Soulless or THIC SOCIAL EvYt.:—ln• London and
other large towns how many servants-of-all-work are
there, each isolated in a decent family, and not permit-
ted to have "followers." Yonder sits one in an under-

ground kitchen, her day's work done, and her fingers
employed in sewing. Not a soul is near to her, and her
whole nature craves for companionship. From time to
time the bell rings, and she runs up stairs to take orders

from a highly. respectable mistress, who suffers no replies
or arguments, being thoroughly convinced that " fami-
liarity breeds contempt," especially with servants. Her
care of her domestic amounts only to care for her own
apparent interests. She must rise early, and do her
work to the letter; she must not talk to the tradespeople
at the door ; she must wear a cap of a peculiar out, and
gowns of a peculiar make and fashion. Not a soul must
come into the hOuse, for fear of thieves; but once a
month the poor girl is turned loose for her holiday, to
go whither she will, and seek what associates she may.
If the daughter of the house were in question, she
would be watched, and guarded, and talked to, and.
caressed; but the servant of the same age, and with a
stronger and more excitable frame, a healthy and invit-
ing look, and gushing over with desire for sympathy
and fellowship, "end as ignorant as the daughter of the
world's ways, is left to chance; If she goes wrong she
can be turned away, and another servant be got, the
child of some other working man. The,safety of a pOor
girl in such circumstances lies in her faMily being near
her to absorb her sympathies ; but in many cases this is
thought objectionable, as involving " followers." lite
perfection of a servant, amongst narrow-minded people,
is held to be the absence .of all sympathy save for her
work. The more the, twain, being—provided she be
not a thief? a 4ruuliard, or dirty in habits, or rude in
manners to her mistress—the more like to a machine
the better—the less chance will there be of her going
astray. But if the poor girl possesses affections and 411
those qualities which constitute a kindly :nature, the
more probably, in her isolated state, • craving for'sym-
pathv, will she become the dupe of the designing, if
tempted, And then she is made a pariah. If the con-
trary takes place—that a vicious servant seduces a son
of the family—be is not made a pariah. All the.fikult is
visited on the offender, and no thought is taken as. to
the want of care, as to the mgPAnflture of the servant,
and the neglect of wholesome, precautions for the eigt,
which, has capc,d, the evil,—Pe. Bridges .4-4144$ p* the
tarofkofriwitiv..

THE FIGHL:FOE TPR CHAMPIONSHIP,

I The match has hitherto been scarcely noticed in
France. The _Mats, however, now publishes an article
by M. John Leruoinne, in which he says 'We see in
this struggle the old world and the new pitted against
each other—old England 'and young America. The
American giant is tall and robust like the trees of the
new world. He is built after the pattern of- its forest
lakes and rivers, he is the type of primitive nature. His
opponent is the model of the old world, the concentrated
product of centuries, the essence of civilisation, the
creature of art. This Englishman is a masterpiece
of cultivation. But we must never forget that both
the athletes are men of the same blood and race. It is
England in its adolescence and England in its virility,
but still the same England. Between the two there is
rivalry, but no enmity. The two boxers may fight each
other like Homer's heroes, but they would unite against
a foreigner. The Englishman cannot help being proud
when he sees an American. He says, 'ltis I who
made him what he is.' He is proud of the blows he
receives from his formidable child, and recognises
his own blood. We desire to observe here how
thoroughly this Englishman, Savers, represents his
nation. Patient endurance, indomitable energy, invin-
cible perseverance, a tacit oath to die rather
than yield—those distinguishing attributes of the
English character are strongly marked in this
pugilistic drama. Although we may scandalise some
delicate tastes, we cannot help admiring that
miraculous fortitude and power of will which sustained
the Englishman while fighting for two hours with one
arm against the human avalanche which was continually
rolling against hitu. Five and twenty times was he
flung upon the sward, and five arid twenty times he rose
again, the living image of England on the field of
battle. History tells us that Englishmen are always
beaten in the, first campaign ; like all men of strong
character, they gather force from misfortune. It
seems that, like Ant sus, they must kiss the earth before
they know their strength, for after a series of defeats
we find them ever masters of the field of battle.
If they are not thoroughly heater.' at first, their destruc-
tion will be a work of time. But there is still
another reason which has made uS allude to this singular
fight. We mean the profound and universal and ardent
interest which it has aroused in England, and which
seems to us to have a
.political significance. During
the last year and a halt' volunteer rifle corps have
been formed in England, and the newly-awakened
popular interest in the recent fight is intimately
connected with the prevalent idea among English-
men of the necessity of taking measures for the
defence of their territory. Several of the French
newspapers, in speakiug of this fight, have only
seen in it a rude and disgusting exhibition. For our-
selves we recognise the play of animal instinct, but we
think that there is something else to which attention
should be paid. The first defence of England consists
in her wooden walls ; but her second line of defence
consists in the broad chests and formidable arms which
play their part in contests like that which we have
described. England sees in them a provision for the
defence of the country. Such, it seems to us, is the
moxal of this fight—such the explanation of the interest
it has excited in every class of English society—sand
such is our excuse for having occupied the attention of
our readers with a description of it."

ssporting fltd.ligrart.

[ DONCASTER RACES— :ESTERDAY.
TRIAL STAKES.
Stockton 1
Ripon