Northern Times.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1857-11-11 00:00:00

THE NORTHERN TIMES.---LIVERPOOL, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1857.

THE MURDER OF A POLICEMAN AT
STEVENAGE.

CORONER'S INQUEST.

STRYENAGS, RENTS, MONDRT..—This afternoon, at two o'clock,
Mr. C. lanes, Coroner for the borough of Illtchin, p ocesded at the
National School-rooms at tiis place, with an inquiry into the
melancholy circumstances attending the death of Jahn Starkins,
aged 25 years, late an officer belonging to the Hert's constabulary,
who was brut ,lly murdered iu a plane known as Cooper's Bracher,
on Friday evening last, and his baJy thrown into a pond adjaining.
The unfortunate man was a very efficient officer, and on Friday
week he was ordered to watch some fields (as it was known that
some robberies had taken place), at a Vms when alt the workmen
were returning hams. Howeve-, the poor fellow was not h.ard of
again until his body was band with his heal n-arly severe I from his
boly by a frightrul wound in his throat, in the pond on Cooper's
larsches on thz Monday follow ng. From circumstances which came
to light, a man names Jeremiah C trpenter , was taken into custody,
and is now under remand.

Mr. Driver, surgeon, of Stevatage, examined—l made ap st mor-
tern examination of the body. it had the appearance of having been
soaked in water a long while, especially the hands and feet. There
wis a wound in the throe', ahout sic inches long, extending from
abort: one w-g'e of the JAW t 3 the other. The w and had irregular
edges, and had the appearance of being done with three separate cuts
of the knife. The wound was not a fair one. The kn fe must hive
been stuck in and th•ust round on the right side the carotid arteries
and jugular veins. The knife hal appare.it'y passed immediately
above the larynx and divided. the pharynx. The knife had come
right dowe to the spine. On the left aid• the jugular veins were
divided, and the knre had g ins close to the carotid art. y without
dividing it. The rigor mortis of tie body had nearly disappeared.

Coroner—What sort of instrument do you, thin', was used ?
Witness—l should think it was a straight-edged knife. I only
believe it to be sharp enough to be thrust in the throat, and then that
it was sufficiently char, at the edge to cut through the flesh. A
labours:'s bread and che^se knife would inflict the wounds.
C iner—Should you say th, won al wee i flicted by the man
himself accidental)+, or by any other person ?
Witness—l do not for a moment b,l'evo that he did it himself.
N) man would &atm t to cut his throat with his cloth s buttoned
roind the throat. One hoik of the policeman's coat was torn off,
and the col'ar was mach cut.

[The coat warn b/ the deceased was then produced. It was a
poli:emsn's fr.)ck coat, and the thick n2right collar was cut through
in an u award diretion.]
The Coroner—.ls th re i► now n doubt that this is not a case of
suicide, we must rroceed to discover who inflicted the wound,
and theref me I am ready to take any evidence the police may have
to submit.

Thomas Cooper sa'd—l am a fiy,driver, and live at Stev rage. On
th. evening of last Frid ty week I drove a lady fr -rti the Stevenage
railway sta•io That was twenty-five minntes after five When I
passel a p'ace ca'-led Nort)n Green-lane, I saw a t oliceman standing
on the bridge. lam pretty wet sure it was the decsas -d, Starkins.
Elizabeth Rowe, a married woman, sail—l live at W.hust-com-
mon, Stevenage. On the evening of Fri lay week I waa standirg at
my door when I saw a geatlern an g 3 by d ested in a dark dress. I
do not know th tt he was a policman. That was rather more Sban
a quarter past five. He had on a great cos:. I did not notice
whether he had on a shinny hat. He appearel to be going out of
the field towards the Breches where the policeman was found. From
the time I saw this person up to pact six no other person pa-Bed my
door.

Mr. Edward Horne I am a farmer, a htevenage. I occupy
Norton Gres Farm. I know Jeremiah Carpenter. He is employe
by me as a labourer. I have been in the Feld where the murder too,:
pace. I w there when the holy was found. The bldy was Nand
about eleven o'clock, on last Moaday, and at three o'clock in the
afternoon I fous-I so wheat on the ground in a r lace wh ere there
seemed to have been a Beall ), and I t link the wheat was mine, but
it is an important• thing, and I should not like to swear to it posi-
tirel7. It was the same deszrlption of what that Carpenter had
been sowing for me.

By the Coroner —Jermlih Carpe I,er is a very strong man

William Reid—l am fore flan to the lust witness. On Fridsy,
She,,herd anti Carpenter w re at win in a Held ht abut half-past
twelve, andi went and took Sheah3rd away to do something, else.
Ra Tway fi was one in wh ch he was 'eft to do some work. The
nearest way from that fled to C.rpeater's house would be through
the Britches.

By the Coroner—When I 2371 Ca-p,n'er on caturday m3rning, hs
was 'ame. I saw nothtng unusual in his k,psaranue, dress, or
manner on Saturday morn'ng.

William Shepherd, a little boy aged nine years. said—l r.mem'ser
last Frilay wedt. • I ssw Carpenter conies home. He g..t over the
railings at the bAtom of our garden at tho back o' the cottage. He
walked lama as he came up the garlen. Toat ws about six o'clock.
In le s than half an hoar Mrs. Carpenter came into our cottage and
asked my father to no into their hoots and take same WO Jd off
cdrpe-ter's lags which u,vo. My father welt to
Carpenter. The e was a stack of roots near Carpenter's h tue, and
love o' the roots wJis lying on his foot, and he was lyit g oi the
ground. IL was n itcalllng oat. Father took the root off as soon as
he could - he lifted it off very rainy. When he went into the
cottage father took off Carp nter's boots and said hi, leg was very
much swollen. '1 hive or :bar minutes a•terwirds my father told me
to go home to my plait - I was not waisted there. When carpen-
ter was lying down nth ground he had on h's Sunday smo.k and
hat.

Wiliam Shepherd—l am a labou-er, and father of the 13mt wi'n ..s.
I worked on the same farm as Carpenter. On Friday week I WAS at
work with him in a field of mister's. I left home in t` e midd e of
the day. No one was with him. I 'cf., the farm rather later than
Carpenter. I went hose, and after do ng one cr two ittle jo',F, saw
earl enter go into the house, at the back. I did not notice any,hiog
particular abotat the smoilt. The next thing I saw of him was when
his wife came in and a•ked me to m we the block tory/col.

At this stage of the proceedings, the inqmi-y was a;ain adj)nrned.

The Morning Star learns that there is a private des-
pa'ch in town announcing the death of M'. Archidald
Hastie, M.P.for Paisley.

I (MT OF BRISTOL —The Customs' duties receivA at
Br's'ol for the month et.ding 313 t Oct. kit, amounted to
4124;500 143. 4d , being Vie I.rgest receipt for the month
of Oclolatr on rt cord at this port.

A SURGEON COMMITTED TO YORK ASiIZES -- DONCASTER,
SATURDAY.—This afternoon, the West Riding magir-
trat.?s proceeded to hear a charge, which hal been p nding
for the last mon b. ar;aiast 11r. Andrew Halliday Carmi-
chael, cf Nlexlvough, surgeon, on a charge of procu
the ab rtian of flare:et Atkinson, and with using instru-
ments to accomplish the .hjPct. The eas , which had
excited the etepest interest, was conlucte I in private, and
occupied to less than fiv-e house and a half in hearing. The
evidence of the pr s, c it rix was A at tak, n, and altho igh
nearly eight weeks had elapsed since the corarnisai m of the
()fierce, she was unable to stand. The evidence having
been complet d, the pr's mer was committed to take his
trial at the n' xt York assizes. Application for b til was
refus•d —Mr. C:rmichael wa• a surgeon o' large practice,
and w-11 respected in the neilibou:boorl. He was e,niove,l
to Wakefield 11.1130 of Correction in the evening. He is
touch di jected, and since his ame`ien,ion has much
altr-red in his appearance.

Mareseauntaree AC H&LIFAI.—II Sunday morning,
about oie o'clock, Samuel Sutcliffe Jacks-re a tailor,
re-iding in Nelso- -street, ant employed by Messrs Paul
Greenwo .d aid eon, was brought to the borough police
station at Halifax, on a charge of manslauebter. 01
Saturdiy right, .1 cieson went to the Wateiheuse Arms
Inn, and joi ed a number of voeng m-n in playing at
bagatelle • but he 11,d not been long in the house before
he picked a quarrel with one of the commshy. When
turned into the'street, a litti e'ter• twelve o'c'eck, Jackson
made a savage attack upon William Lockwood, a young
man who had been is the ion, tut cot the one with whom
the disagreement had taken piece. Waikiug up to him
Jackson knocked him down, soy iag, " You are one of the
b—rs; " and then injured him so severely, by jumping
upon his chest and abdomen, end kicking him upon the
head, th ,t when the police arrived, is a few minutes after-
wa der, he was a corpse. Jackson, who Ir s long boon
known as a cruel, unfeeling mm, was subsequently taken
into custody at hit own home, by police se-je4nt Pearson:
GENERAL CAVAIONAC.—The death of a greet ci izen in
a free country is not an event of suc'i unmixe,l eadneaa. If
it is the end, it is also the completion of a noble life ; and
sometl irg of the gladne's of haivest mingles with the
noelanchoiy of the departing year. There are others to
take the place and follow the great example of :he departed.
But this In le can have no successor, fo', in his country,
liberty, the parent of gr.et citizens, is dead. Great and
irreparable is the loss to France, 11.-re was the one man
who could be looked to, in case another ehanea should be
granted to French freedom, as capable of grasping tlee
r.enlin the first inevitable moment of confusion., and cer-
tain to use his power faithfully far the interest of his
country, and not selfishly for his owe. Here was the one
sildier able to wield his sword at reed, and sure to wield
i'„ not fo: the ends of a vu'gar soldier, bat for liberty and
law. Hero was the man whose name, severely tested as he
had been, would have assured order whea despotism wise
overthrown, and whose presence was a guarantee to society
that the restoration of fre:dcm ebould not be the signal
for anarchy and blood. his said that he was not a deep
political theorist, or a man of first rate intellectual power.
It may have been so But he seems to have been a
thoroughly single heart--d man , and single-teutedness.
whether for goad or evil, multiplies intellectual power ten-
foil. Washingtoo found genius in du y. Bat Oovaignac
was not destine I to be tried by the possession of supreme
power.. He ee.mel to have matey years arid a momentous
future before him. lle had just been c,l'ed from -that
simplicity of pr:vafe life to which he had wisely and un-'
complainingly retired, to place himself at the head of a
constitutional movement against arbitrary power. The
Eyes of his countrymen were upon him, when suddenly the
;bread is severed, and be is gone.--Saturday Review.

THE STAGE, ANCIENT AND MODERN.

LECTURE BY THE DEAN OF CARLISLE.

Last evening, the Dean of Carlisle, the Rev. F. Clowes,
D.D., attended, by invitation, at the Collegiate institute'
Shaw-street, for the purpose of delivering a lecture to th
Young Men's Christian Association, of this tows. Th
hall of the building was filled with a large and respectable;
auditory, including a number of the clergy of the to an .
The subject selected by the Rev. Than was, " The Stage,
ancient and modern."

Mr. Win. Crossfield occupied the chair; and amongst
the gentlemen present on the platform, were the Revls.
Dr. Raffl V. M. White, D. J. Barry, Messrs. Dawson,
Steel, Marsd.n, Leyland, &c.

The meeting was opened with a suitab'e prayer by the
Rev. Mr. White.

he Chairman then, after a few brief preliminary
observations, briefly introduced the lecturer, upon which
The Very Rev. Dean of Carlilse proceeded with his
lecture. Ha sail that he supposed it was the custom of
the lecturer to turn his back to the chairman, therefore
he should be forgiven. Perhaps the subject he had
selected for consideration might require some little
explanation, but that, he believed, arose from an
error of the Secretary, but he would divide the blame,
if any, with him. The worthy Secretary of that associa-
tion, had, some time since, applied to him to deliver a
lecture in Liverpool. Then he declined, having more
sacred duties to perform, but he had received another
application, saying, that if he would only come and read
his old lecture he should be satisfied ; to that he had
assented, because he could not from his heart resist the
application ft ona doing what he could to assist the
Christian young men, therefore, he had taken up a lecture
which he had delivered about seven years' ago at Chelten•
ham. But there was a mistake in the title of the lecture,
it being " The Stage Ancieat and Modern, its tendencies
on Morals and Religion." He then went on to say that:—
The subject which will engage y eur attention this even.
ing is one which has, for a long time, occupied my own,
and, one on which I have long sought an opportunity to
express myself in public; conceiving that although the
very name of " pulpit" is derived from a certain portion
of the ancient theatre, yet that the Christian pulpit is
not exactly the place for the discussion of many topics
which naturally arise out of the one now before us. It is
highly expedient, and divines in various ages have deemed
it to he their dnty, to denounce the follies and vices of
the stage ex cathedra, to condemn them with authority—
but on this occasicn I rather wish to enter into a discus-
sion on the general merits of the case, to examine the
arguments pro and con—and alleging the evidence of
history, to consider the pretensions of the histronic art as
a professed friend of religion and morals. Many chris-
tian people are umeh misinformed upon the subject, while
they are doubtless open to conviction, and it may be
confidently asserted that there are many who give their
support to theatrical amusements, simply because they
are unacquainted with the evils connected with them.
Avoiding, therefore, a mere declamatory condemnation of
theatrical exhibitions, let us eater upon a calm and
dispassionate enviry on this iMportant subject. And
to this end, alloy me to place before you in order, a brief
and rapid, though it be a somewhat imperfect, sketch of
the history of the rise and prt:qress of the stage in all
ages, le order that we may be enabled to discover what
I •
results have fillowed. and se rnly arrive at a more
deliberate and jest conclusion respecting the real tendency
of the stage with regard to morals and religi m. lam
sure of one thing—that I shall receive at your hands this
evening a candid hearing—that you will "lend me your
ears ;" and 1 hope that many of you will, at the close of
my address, lend me your ha ads and hearts too, and join
with me in the conclusion at which I may arrive,

The lecturer then directed the attention of his hearers
to the ancient drama, giving a history of the stage from
the remotest ages. p srticularty alluding to the Greek
stage; and also to give a full historical review of the
English stage, which could not be traced to any classic
origin, for it was not until the Elio tbethian age did it
a•-s. any benefit from the purer type's of Greece, and
pursued his subject with great nal tuteness until he came
to the time of Sha.kspeare, whose talent he eulogised, and
from thence, until the time of the Commonwealth, and of
Oliver Cromwell, wham he was not in these days afraid to
speak of in laudatory terms, for be had dune great benefit
to his country, for he hid abaliiheal the two P.'s—popery
and plays, and if for the twofold offences of abolishing
theatritals and overthrowing popery I must bear the
oppruhrium of Puritanism, I will not be ashamed of that
stigma, for certain I am that I would rather be a Puritan
than a papist, and I would rather be either than a false
churchmae, a concealed papist in the Church of England.
Having traced the progress of the stage from its most
remote sou -cos down to a period immediately preceding
the times in which we live, to ascertain what have been
its moral tendencies, 'and whet is effects upon the
religious interests of maukie he humbly conceived that
be had made out a case which would carry conviction to
many minds. When all these circumstances are duly
considered and candidly weighe I, the conclusion appears
inevitable, that notwithstanding the genius, talent, and
power of mind which have been exhibited, especially upon
the English stage, and at many periods of it,—notwith-
standing the respectability of many of those who have
acted their parts on that stage—yet, nevertheless, as a
whole, it would hay/I-wen fir be.ter, with respect to the
interests of morality add ralision, if there had never been
any stage at all; that it has contributed, both negatively
and positively, as well in the days of Mesteries, Morali.
ties, and Interludes, as in those of pare Tragedy and
Comedy, to unsettle and demoralise the people of this
country. And as Bishop H tai says on another subject—
it is not simply the stage, it is not the tragedy or comedy,
nor the play you read in your own house, but it is certain
uncouth consequences that accompany the system—which
appear, as far as experience teaches us, to be inseparable
from• theatrical exhibitions, and which make them
demoralising an 1 injurious to the public mind. Such then
is my testimony, and such is the evidehce I hive adduced
against the stage down to the present period. And no as
let us turn our attention to the general character, and
probable moral results of the stage as it exists among
ourselves at the present day. And in parsuMg this
enquiry it will not be necessary to enter into a description
of the various kinds of histrionic representations now
prevalent, whether of the opera or of the pure trage ly and
comedy, if such there be, exhibite l on the London stage.
or of the pantomime and farco which follow, or of the
inferior theatres which abound in the rnetropaiis, or the
various exhibitions more or less of a theatrical character
which are familiar to all. S !Moe it to say that I allege
against the whole system, an I shall endeavour to prove
the charge, that the ll:miens theatre—' he stage as a
whole—at this present moment is doing 'incalcula-
ble mischief to morals and religion in the country.
There is one species of theatrical exhibition which few
will be prepare I to defend, I mean the cheap or penny
theatres; these are dens of infamy, pandering to the
lowest and most degrading appetites of the most proffi•
gate portion of the people, and corrupting and defiling
those who have hitherto escaped pollution. Here rob
heries, househreakings, and murders are planned, and
here the most approved methods of accomplishing such
designs are acted out before the audience. Against these
cheap pleasures, or rather, these cheap vices, of the
middle or working classes of society, not only clergymen,
or ci y missionaries, or district visitors, protest, bus there
is not a maeistrate who sits on the b-nch to administer
justice who would not corroborate the statement that
these guilty pleasures contribute largely to augment the
catalogue of crime, and to debase and brutalise the people.
If the stage is corrupt, low, and profligate, a more power-
ful engine of mischief cannot be devised. But these are
condemned by all persons of respectability and character,
independently of religious principie, as great evils to be
abated, and, if possible, abaished. It is to the less
obvious evils of the stage generally that we would now
direct our inquiry, and for the sake of perepecuity we
will bid you consider-1, the nature of the subjecta
rs presented ; 2, the character of the performers ; and 3.
of the audience. With respect to the plays themselves,
or the representation generally, can it be denied, that
not withstanding the marked improvement observable
since the days of Dryden and C taker, there is much in
every evening's amusement which ought to shock the eye,
diet, ess the ear, and wound the heart of a sincere Chris.
tian ? How the immodest displays of the ballet can be
- witnessed by persons of delicacy and refinement, I cannot
imagine l How mothers can introduce their daughters to
such scenes is incomprehensible! ~But apart from these
corrupting exhibitions, it may be safely affirmed that no
person witnesses the entire perform:slice at any theatre,
on any one night. without listening to many oaths, much
profaueuess, many impure jaw, and indelicate allusions.

Even the portrait of vice, which is necessarily introduced,
in some form or ether, in every play, as the foil to virtue,
cannot be represented to the mind and imagination with.
oat injury. True It is that impurities and vices must be
encountered in real life, and sooner or later they mu.t be
more or less revealed to youth ; but does it therefore
follow that it is lawful to visit such exhibitions of evil
things for our plst hue and amusemen. ?• Is not pleasure
so purchased bought too dearly ? NJ man who fears God,
trembles al his holy name, and is jealous for his honour,
could deliberately countenance, by his presence and his
money, these who " take his name in vain" in sport, curse
and swear to amuse their auTenee, or utter impurities, or
half-concealed impurities, to,please a corrupt and vicious
taste. The character of 'Ole plays and farces them.
selves are sufficient alone to deter persons of piety
of feeling, religious principle, and purity of heart.
from witnessing them. They cannot voluntarily, and for
mere relaxation, place themselves were God is dis-
honoured and his laws are violated with impunity, and
where not uufrequently spiritual religion itself is made
the subject of jest an e i lieu e. Nor can they divest
thews evss of the persuasion that by their property and
iefleence they are help tee to support au evil and corrupting
system. This become -E4 'farther apparent if we pass (2)
from the subjects represented to the character of actors
and actresses. And here we treed on delicate ground—
but let tru-h alone be our search, and when fennd,
trw-te be told The estimation in which actors, actresses,
and opera-lancers are held by the public at large cannot
be questioned : there is a degree of infamy a tached to
the profession. True there are, and there have been, most
illustrious exceptions, especially in modern times, and
tl e :norat reputation of so ,e who have sustained both
male and female parts on the boards of a theatre has
teen as unsullied in private life as their fame
has been great for histrionic talent. We have
had our Gerricks and the whole family of the Kesobles
and others ; an we have now our Mecrealy, as
well as some of lesser note. over whom the breath of
slander has never passed. But do not the exceptions
prove the rule ? And when private virtue does appear
on the stage, does net the homage which is paid to it
expose its rarity ?
In reference to the Opera, one of which he had once,
he said, attended, and tee left it, perfectly ashamed, and
astonished however a mother of a famly of children
eted sit herself or allow her children to sit ite such a place,
and concluded a most interesting and instructive iec!u,e
by a very forcible appeal to all present, perticalarly
young men, not to attend such planes of amusement. and
nsging up m them the much m 're cheerful and benefiting
e j eyments that were to be obtained by attending the
lecture-room, or the reading-room, an enjoyment which
Prior generations could not avail themselves of. The
Rev. Dean resumed his seat amidst the most enthusiastic
applause.
Oa the motion or Ds. Refll;9, a vote of thanks was
voted by acclamation to the lecturer, awl the meeting
concluded with the Doxology.

OXFORD CORPJRATI'N AND THE OATH OF FEALTY.—
The authorities of the Univ•rsity hiving intimated to the
Corporatioe of the City of Oxferil that thee cannot
dispense aith the Oa h of Feel y, which the 11ieyor has
hitherto tikes) before the Vice-chancellor, the Corporation
has replied by a • unenhnoas resole ion, that it sees no
reestn to recind its former resolve, autherisiug the Mayor
not to take the owli.
Tue Eesax MURDER —G eve :NMENT REWARD. Oa
Sttwday a reward of £lOO was ff.red by the G,vernment
for the apprehension of the mordents of Mr. Isate. Butcher,
firmer, near Htlstead, oa the eveeine of Sameley, the 31• t
ult., and her M jeet)'s pa d;n will be ex filled to aey
aceomerce, not being the actual murd ter, who may give
such information as may lead to the same result. In ad-
dition to the ab.,Ye, the. Local association fur the prosecution
of felons will pay H2O to the persoa who may be the means
of wowing their conviction.
FATAL ACCIDENT.—Six Lives LOST.-01.1 Friday after-
noon, a dr. adfal accide t occurred at the Ciodirer
Qia-riee, about nine miles from Cern r-yon. Owing to an
accident to he piston-sod of the engM r the men hid left
off woe:, and fourteen of them were talking together at
the bottom of the p t, wren a cry of dander was raised, and
they rushed towares the c tide con.tructed for refuge in
each cases; hut before they could reach it a bnze rock,
which had been g-adually dislodged from the meath of the
(parry by the rains, 'el, breekine into pieces by col ision
ci h the sides of the quarry, and litred three of the men
on the sp rt. A fourta died in a few minutes, afath as he
was being carried home, and a sixth within eight hours.
Seveml others were much irejived• Oa the legs of one
poor fellow was a fragment of stone se heave, that it had to
be lifted by a stearn-eng:ne before he could be extricated.
WiterEY.—VEESELI LOST.—The brig Her Majesty. of
Whitby, Caatai a Osborne, from o Istadt, laden with hemp
an .1 deals, let Elsinore on the 17th Oe.ober. 0.1 the .6th,
a boa 's crew was seen to pe ish off Meunsley. Shortie
after, a boat came on :hare, with the name IF r Majesty
pointed n the 6th instant, the papers le`onging
to tip v... 1 were we lard up es toe same pta e, leavieg
little room f-r doubt that the shin is loaf, and the unfortu-
nate crew dr Avnetl, The h-ig Naylor, of Whitby, Cape,
Thompsoe, is also supp reed to be lest, with the crew. She
was bound for Schied m, and was out in the late gale, and
has net since ben heard of. The cap•ain wis a widower,
and has left sii childree. These mike ten Whitby ships
lest isithin little more than a menth. The liar Mej sty is
the ve sea on board which (cm red a fearful trewedy
cheat two years ego. Slm was on her passage from
--'altitica to Quenst,wr, when a seaman, named James
Veale, murdered the c tp:ain, the mate, and the cook,
w untied a a amen, and th- n committed suicide.
ARaISAL OF THE 9:a REIIbtF.NT Ar PORTSMODTFI —Her
Metjes,y's sc•ew troop ship Valean has arrived at Spittle td
Prow Quebec, with the 9 a Regimen', ineludiag 35 officers,
eight idlicee,' wives, 13 officers' children, 502 nor-cora-
ruiesioee.i era and p iv tee, 53 women, an ! 63 chtliren,
and 17 prisoners from various regiments in Canada. Toe
Vulcan left (11,h •te oe the 17tn of Octo'er, an-1 has m tide
a very fair passage h.rne. Al'. went right aetil the•3oth,
whoa a freest melancholy accPerit occurred to Ensign
Robert R. Laurel, of the 9.0 Regi nt, who bad retired to
his cabin ; •but t cos q lent upon the heavy rolling of the
ship, he w -s forced a;aiest the cabin door, and that giving
way, he was p eeiditated to the deck b dor, and, pitching
on his head, dislocated his neck, cot:deg instant cleats.
Re was buried at sea with the usual soleineiti.s, aid
and ci'ti ,g a deep gloom over the ship. The tro rps wilt
nit lend ultil to-day. Tire following is a list of the
°Meets who have come home in the Vulcan :—Col B•rtun,
C B.; M joys Bethitne, L sloe, and Taylor ; Cap.ains
Reunee, W lkirsor, Terre, net s:raub neee ; Lieutenants.
Boxeme, Hervey, Douglas. fle,sey, Tliresf4rd, Thompson,
Bmtnn, Vibert, Bu land, M (lents, Elinitiett,
rmere A enew, and 13 ; Ensigns P:uteri Ige, Rids-
d tile, Coadeitek, Massey, and' B d haw ; Paymaster
Sieve/right ; Qaar:erma-ter Banhary; Sergcou Teornten ;
Assirant-Surgeons Ow,,ns and l'tieadows.
THE " CRASH" IN Now YORK—It is really amusing
to take a walk new ihreugb Broed vay, aid m lay of the
wholesale streeta, and wt ness the placards ie fro at of the
a orer, and in the windo vs, announcing the " ttemetdous
sacrifices'' tha are beiuz made ft for c sh." Here we
have hundred-dollar silk dresses irked down to firtv
dollars ; there-hundred d diet- shawls tor tvo hnnfire,e;
fifty-1:11,r lace co fats for ibi ty ; a hundred-101l ir peke -
handkerchief for forty; the bst of Pa-is kid for si e 0 doors
per d z•n ; fi•e-dollar cloth for th-ee d 'lle's, And dire,-
dollar for one d ilia* per yard, and o'her thin4s in propo -
tient 0' c 'urge, the resh of the fair s x after tLete " bar-
gains" is immense, ant th , aid of policemen is required
to c ere c. the bu,er in end cut of the crowd in safety.
Some of the. qores preetu• the app eiraece of the banks
when they were beaieged fur metre. the flees of earoTers
extending clear into the street. To witness such a rush
and anxiety to eurchase, one cruld hardly I e"eve th 1
.nev was scarce; nor is it so itt reality. Mot while
ourtitiew of our wholes:de and ret:it st.ore, resort to •he
:oboye method of toting rid of their crocks, o tee% hay,
given up in deseair, nod the etninotte words " to let" are
seen upon many a fi e establish nent is b ith the tipper
and lower pats of the city. Some of these 'stores have
heart in existence oaly a yeer ; but their whole structu e,
from the foa edation upvva-ds, being one remitied mass of
credit, they fall easy victims to the first lreathings of the
crash.—Letler from New Fork
AUCTION OF STORES OF TEE WAST OF IRELAND FISHING
AND FISH MANURE COMPANY.-0a Weeelnesday, at one
o'clock, r.O , in accordacce with prevM re no ificatiou, tee
vessels, store., and fishing gear of the late London and
Wet of Ireland Fishing and Fish M it u -e Company were
stab nitted to pubic auction, at their t ffieee, Merchants'-
road, Galway. The attendance of bu..,e-s coenec e 1 with
Engli•h, Scotch, and Irish fi heri:,s etas very numerous.
Mr. Fenton Otrson, et* Dublin, the auciione r employed
on the oecasi,m, fiost set up the Star of the West Hooker,
twelve tons, which, after a smart comp, ti i. n, was k rocked
d own to Evans cud Sna for £3O. 'rue Sew, herring
boat, fifteen tens, after some competition was bought in
by the company, wl:o reserved such a right, when the
highce price offered did not seem stiffed nt. The Samuel
and M ry was then 0E1,1,0, ani, efior b ing keenly con-
tested for some time, the highest off r being 115 ;Twee •s,

was pu-ch:used i t b; the c)mpany t it £215.
Queen and Manes: trawl:As were n it set. tp in one lot,
and a very spiri•ecl c must ensued between Mr. Goode, of
Lindor, and Mr. J. A. B.owae, of Bhckr ck, untii the
biddiogs reached £770. At the close Mr. G ode bid
£775, and the aucqoueer, on the part of the comps .y,
having st,ipped the slle at 1730, M-. G nude offered aluic•ii
sirnaltaneously, £735, and insiced tint his bid shou'd be.
tdren, whic`i was neremp`orily refs e', as the com;)at,y
estimated the value of the property at. £I,IIO. The auc-
tioneer then pro eeded to the cirn zany's star 5, where an
inun nse quantity of trawling nets, seine nets, cordage.
stail,, and tear of all desc i,,tions was rapidly disposed of.
Tae trawling; nets generel y brought fr.un £3 10s. to £t.
,'hey wer,3p,rfectly new, and c .st, it was ta ,£7to £s
topiec Th,re was also a lar.e quantity of olel netsB“l,l,
at kinces ranting from los. to £15..--Galway Vindica'or.

THE LORD MAYOR'S DAY.

GRAND BANQUET AT GUILDHALL.

LORD PALMERSTON ON INDIA.

The Banquet given by the now Lord Mayor of
London, on Monday night, W 45 of a most brilliant
and recherche character. After the remlval of the
cloth, the bird Mayor proposed the " Army and
Navy," which was responded to by

Lord Panrnure. who said—l am called upon to re`urn
thanks for the noble veterans of the army.—a duty which
has always fallen hitherto upon sarn3 active member of
that profession. Yqur Lordship has departed from the
usual custom. but I bow to the authority of the &lief
Magistrate of the city, and I take upon myself the proud
responsibility of returning thanks to this company for
the army of England. I can, perhaps, speak of that army
with more freedom than one who actually belongs to it ;
but it is unnecessary for me to remind you of the actions
of British soldiers, whether of those which are recorded

in history or of those to which testimony has so recently
been borne• (Cheers.) That army, I am pleased to
think, now attracts public attention, not alone for it,
ieoloit3 in the field—for they never were questiened—
but on acceuat of the anxiety which exists iu this country
to foster a force and to encourage a profession of which
England may well be proud, and from which uoin all
occasions it will obtain the most prompt cad v Ott tble
assistance. On the occasion of the Crimean war the
army was ready in the field to defend the honour and
the interests of England, and upon the late occasion to
which the Lord Mayor has s o feelingly referred, regi-
ments which had only recently returned from a
long period of service abroad proceedel with the
greatest anxiety and avidity to India to avenge the wrones
which had been done to their comrades in arms, and
the atrocities which had been foully committed upon the
wives and children of those connra 103. (Cheer 2.) lam
proud to think that under the syste a of voluntary service
to which the Lord Mayer has referred the ranks of the
army, thinned as they were at home by the draughts
which we have sent abroad, are every week being
rapidly recruited, and that the ree'ing which induces •the
men of Eitel:fld to enter those rank; is hourly on the
increase. (Clear, hear.) I trust t hat we shall have pl teed
at home, by the aid of that adjunct of the army which
now farms a part of the army itelf—natnele, the enrolled
and embodied militia of England—such a force as will
give confidence to the suhj ,cts of our common sovereign.
and will show to the nations of the world that, however
and to whatever extent England had been called on in one
part of her dominions, her army at home will immediately
become efficient for her home service. (Cheers ) I beg
leave to return you. in the name of the army of Eng-
land, my best thanks for the honour you have done them.
(Cheere.)
Tue Lerd Mayor : Thy noxt toast is one which I am
sure will be. as it always has been on these occasions,
received with the greatest enthusiasm. Whatever the
polities of the Government may he, we, met in this
hall, in the centre of the city of London, know nothing of
them; all wa recognise is, measures and man. (Hear,
hear.) In proposing to you the health of the Prime
Minister of this country, I will only say that I have sat
opposite to him during a whole session, and have had
ample opportunity of vvitnessine his constant and labor-
rictus devotion to the duties of his office. There never
was, and probably never will. be, a Prime Minister of'
whom everybody approves; but at all events we have in
Lord Palmerston a Minister who conscientiously and
zealously performs the duties devolving upon him. (Hear,
hear.) It would be fulsome in a humble individual
like myself to ail a word in praise of the- noble lord ;
but I will say that, as the first magistrate of the city
of London I feel proud to hive him here as the guest of
the cif iz ans of London. (C)ce,s.) I feel the more satis-
faction, too, because he is accompanied on this
occasion by Lady Palmerston, and. because I believe
the citizens feel additional pride when the guests they
invite are accomoanied by their " better halves." (Laugh-
ter.) Lord Palmerston has had, during the time he
has been in office. to encounter great dtffiealties, but he
has hither o, and I believe will now, overcoat them
al! ; and I am coufilent that the people will never
forget the services which he has rendered to them.
(Cheers.) Stanch at his post, true to his country, let me
give you, ladies and geeelernen, " Her Majesty's Minis-
ters," with the health of Leal and (though this may differ
from the usual custom) of Lady Palmereton. (Loud
cheers.)
Lord Palmerston, who, on rising, was received with loud
cheers, sail—My Lord Meyer, ladies, and gentlemen, I
beg leave in my own new, on behalf of my colleagues,
and in the name of my better half (a laugh) to return you
my sincere thanks for the honour yen have done me in
proposing and drinking our he tiths. Your L naiship has
alluded to the circu untance that you and I have looked
at each other often from opposite sides of the table of the
House of Commons. I can assure your L ordship—and I
am sure you edit believe me when I say so—that it affords
me infinitely more satisfate ion to be sitting on the same
side et year hespita.aieeta'ase than to find seatna
on opposite sides of that nterrintail tame tomother'pdacc.
(Cheers, and a laugh.) My Lord. I was in hepea that at
our meeting toelay we mieht have hal to announce the
arrival of further intelligence from that q tarter of the
globe on which au( eves al-re fix 'd, and to which the hearts
of all mankind are directed. I was in hopes that we :night
have had—not a confirrn,tion—hat ampler detail; of that
splendi I exploit in arms by which the capital o has
been cocci and I trust. th .t before totauy hours are
over we shall receive in elligence which will cheer the
hearts of every Eielishne in, and prove th et the capture of
that stronghold of the mutineers has decided the fate of the
ceetes*, and that what remains to he achieved is merely a
sequel to that which has already been accomplished.
(Cheers.) It is impossible the any Eagliehinen to allude
to that which has been achieved in India—not by soldiers
only, but by eiv.lians, by individuals, and by knots of
men seattere 1 over the whole surface of a great empire—
without feeling prouder than ever of the neloti to which
we have the happiness to beton?, (Cheers.) There
1 never was an instance its the history of the world of such
splend d exa notes of bravery, of intrepidity, of resource,
and self reliance accomplishing sue' results as those
which we have lately witnessed. The Government at
horny, on the other hand, may justly pride themselves on
not having been unequal to the rnegnittele of the occasion
We took the earliest opportunity of despatching to India
a treat army—an army which hal not yet arrived when
those great victories were aecomplishei, but which, when

it shall arrive, will render th4t which remains to be done
comp tratively easy of acconplistt neat, and will,
cannot entertain the sliglit,st doubt, re-esttblish th
power and authority of England upnt an unshalteabte
basis throughout the whole of our Indian empire. (L.,nd
cheers.) My nob'e friend Lord Paninure has alluded t,
the spirit w.lich has been displayed in thin country, and I
am proud to spy, that although we have deqpltched from

these shores the largest army thst I bel eve ever at one
time left theta, we have now under arms in the united
kingdom as many fi;tring man as we had be'Ore the news
of the mutiny reached us • and t herero e, if any foreign
nation ever dreamed in its visions that the exertions
which we had bleu exnpeiled to make in India had
lessened oar strength at nn and that the time
hat arrive l Wien a different
.bearing might be exhibited

towards in from that which wLs safe in the moment
of our s;rength, the manner in which the spirit of
the country has burst forth. the manner in which ol r
ranks have tier) fined, the manner in which our whole
f.)rc) has been replenished, will teach the world that it
would nut be a safe game to play to aVempt to take
a ltantege of that which was erroneously itntgined to be
t w molte4ot of our w.iaknesi. (L -1 and prolou xed
cheering.) It has been the fashion among the people of
the Continent to say that the English na ion is nit a

military nation. In one sense inleed—in their seese—
! hat assertion may bps slid to be true. An Eillishln ui
is n Sc fund as the people of so:nq other countries are of

unifor.o, of steel sc:l;',)ai".(ls, and of iron heels—(a lanzh);

tut no nation ca ex-•e1 the 13t1.Tlish, either as officers or
soldiers, in a ko ,wlcdire of the d itics of the military pro-
f s4i )n, an] iii the s.4al awl ability with which those
duties are perforinol ; and wherever desperate deeds are
to be accomplish .d— wherever sisperi'm numbers are to
be boldly eacouuterei and triumphantly ovarcorne—,
wherever privations are to be encounterel—wher,4.ver '
that which a soldier has to cnfront is in.lividnally or
c;tllectively to be taced, there, I will venture to sly,
there is no nation on the face of the globe which can
surpass—l might, wi' hoot too mach national vanity say.
I believe, thAt there 14 no nation which can eq tal—
the people of the B itish is!atids. (Cheers.) Bit, my
Lord Nl4yoe and gentlemen, while we all a irnire the
bravery, the constancy, and the iatrepili!-v or o it conntry-
inert in India, we must not forgr t to .do ja.ztice also to

our countrywomen. (Loud cheers.) In iha ordinary
course of Ile the fulctions of woman are to choer the
days of adversity, to soothe the hours of suff..trinA, an I to
give additional brilliancy to the sunshine of vosperity ;
but our country won Oil in Tali ti have had occasion to show
eloaliti,s of a higher and nobler kind, and when they have
had eith,ar to surain the perils of the siege. to endure the
privations of a difficult escape., to forget their own suff.o.
togs in endeavouring to minister to the wants of o hers,
the women of the united kingdome have, wherever they
have been found in Italia, displayol cretlities of the a blest
kind, sach as never have b en surpassed in the histo-y of
the world. (Hear, hear) Henceforth the bravest soldier
may think it no disparag- ment to be told that his courage
aed his p wer of ender ince are eq tat to those of an
E iglishwornan. (R mewed cheers) But. my L trd Nlayor,
while wa d ejusti3o to the great Lull: of our countrymen
in India, we must not forget that person who, by his
exalted position, stan is at the heal of our countrymen
there. I mean the G tvernor-Gmeral. L ,rd Canning
has shown throughout the greatest courage, the grettest
ebili.y, and the greatest resources; and, from the cor•
di ility which exists between him as head of the civil
service, an 1 Sir Colin Campbell as head of the military
service, we may be sure that everything which the con
hined c xperience of bo.h can accomplish will he effected
for the advantage of the country. The task of Lard Can-
ning will he indeed a difficult one. He will have to punish
the guilty, he will have to spare the innocent, and he wilt
have to reward the deserving. T 1 punish the guilty ade-
qoa!ely exceeds the power of any civilised man ; for the
atrocities which have been cotnnalAted are such as to be
imagined and perpetrated only by demons sallying forth
' from the lowest depths of hell. But punishment must be

inflicted—(cheers)—not only in a spirit of vengeance, buf
iu a spirit of security, in order that the example of
punished crime may deter from a repetition of the
offence, and in order to insure the safety of our country—
men and countrywomen in India for the future. (Cheers.)
lie will have to spare the innocent, and it is most grati
lying to know that while the guilty 'may be counted by
thousands the innocent must be reckoned by millions. It
is most gratifying to us and honourable to the people
that the great bulk of the population have hal no share
in the enormities and eriescs which have bean o )33n:fitted.
They have experienced the blessings of British rule, and
they have been enabled to co npare it with the tyranny
exercised over them by their native chiefs. Teey have
had therefore no participation in the attempts which
have been made to overthrev our 'dominion. Most
rerna-kahle It is that the inhabitants of that p art of our
empire which has been most rue ently acquire I (I meats
th 3 Punjaub), who have had the most recent experience
of the tyranny of their native rulers, hive been most
loyal on the present occasion and most attached to their
new and benevolent masters. (Cheers ) Lord' C inning
wit have also to reward the dea rving ; for mmy are
they, both high ant lo.v, who have not only absainel
from taking part in this rnatinv. hat who have most
kindly and generously shelterei fugitives, rescaed others
from the assaults of the metineers, an have merited
recompense at the hands of the British G ,veranseet. I
am convinced that if Lord C sneiae receives—a) I are
sore he will—that confl fence oe the part of liar Maj esty's
G tvernment an I of the people of this country, without
which it is impossible for a man in his • high position to
discharge the duties which hive devolved• upon him, it
will be found, when this dreadful Crag ,dy is over, th it he
has properly discharged his silty, and that his c redact
has not only bean g iverne i by a sense of st,vn tied un-
flinching justice, but also by that discrimin it ine g ,nero-
sity which is the peculiar characteristic of tee British
people. (Cheers.) I bee leave again to re' urn von oar
hest thanks foe the honour you hive done us Id drinking
our healths. (The noble lord resumed his scat amid
prolonged cheering.)
The toast of " Their Excellencies the Foreign Ministers"
-was acknowledged by the Ministers for the Hans Towns.
Lord Palmerston—l take the liberty of proposing to
you a toes- which I am persuaded you wilt drink with the
greatest satis'aetion. I!, is a common saying
,that "as
you begin re may you end." I apply that to my Lord
Mayor, and as he has begun most kiss erm of
service on the present day, so [ am sure you will join
with me ire wishing him health and strength du lag the
remainder of his Mayoralty, that he may fulfil his duties
in the course of the year with as much satisfaction to
himself and to others as he has performed his hoanita.hle
(titles this evening. (Cheers.) I beg to propose to you
to drink "The health of my Lord Mayor." (Cheers.)
The Lord Mayor—With great sincerity I thank y iu for
the honour you have done me. Nothing, believe use,
shall be wanting ou my part to fuifll all the aet'cipations
which have been formed of my mayoralty. As I have
coin neared it is my wish and intention to continue in the
discharge of the duties pertaining to tov offl,e. (Cheers.)
His Lordship rose and proposed ‘• The Health of the
Earl and Countess Granville, and the House of Peers,"
remarking upon the admirable manner in which the noble
lord had acted as the rePres ,ntative of the country at the
Czar's coronation and upon the hospitable reception which
he (the Lord Mayor) had met with at Moscow at the
Ambassador's table.

Earl Granville, in returning thanks, sail he thought
all must hive been struck b 3 the great compliment paid
to Lard Palmerston by a political opeettent, in the
allusion by the Lord Mayor to what took place across the
table of the House of Commons ; but he was afraid that
he coell only attribute to feelings of kindness and
courtesy the reference male by his lordship to his (Lord
G'.anville's) table at •Moscow. With respect to that
mission, as seen as he was infsrnied by hiS colleagues
tett they thought it would be for the public a:lett-stage
that he should undertake what in itself wee an agreeable
and iteeresting dutr, he a once accepted it. .A.rel when
at, Moscow he thought he should be best fulfilling the
instructions of the Government, and carrying oat the
wishes of the people of Et:glen& if he tried to she w that
we were determine i in peace not to lase sight of those
objees which we thought justiti s I war, an 1, res the other
hand, to show t tat the first to tin; of an Eeelish men.
after the fight was over, particularly where the enemy
had displayed great galantry in the thee, was to shake
battle and to p-ove that ho hid no rancour left fa his
heart. It had been his fate a tee, days az s, to
return thanks in the city for the [lease of L irds,
an I some circumstances connected pith c,,rtaie rieee's
of th it assembly had led him to be un nercifully. although
he trusted not unjustly, prolix. He would ne, however,
try to cure the evil to-night by acting on the homee ip tthie
principle of simElil s'ut!bbas curantur. (L:tighter ) tie
would only see' that he believed the Haase of Lords, in
common with every class of Eaelishmen, when a really
national ewrgency arose, would unite as one man its
defence of the interests and honour of the country.
(Cheers.) Tee Lord Mayor he 1 been please Ito couple
with his health that of Lady Granville, an 1 he accepted
grateful:y the compliment which his lerishin had paid
her for the summer in which she had p.Tforraed the duties
of hospitality at Moscow. He begged to assure theta
th,r serer eteeree tonight was on:v ataaeporart, und, that
the ahsence or Lady Grant tee, occasi sued as it was ley
impaired health, was a source of great regret to her and
to Mn. (He ir, hear.)
The other t eies were—" Her Majesty's Jalees,''
ackeowleeeed by L ,rd CAM 35 3 i ; " the Ei Jose or C Ate-
rrtsns,' ler which Si- F. Thesie,r W:l4 called noon to
return thanks; "the Sievers of London an 1 efeleleseic;"
" the L lily M tyoress," propose 1 by E trl G anvilte ;
the Solicitor-G n,ral ani the Bit 4,e r:tittiani;" " Sir
J tones Delco ani tild City Members " the Aldermen.
and the Recorder."