The Sun.
London, England, 1855-12-31 00:00:00

LON DON MONDAY EV NI N DECEMBER 31, 1855,

I,lNlr,!i t(t.X

Compans

C Oilitlir rriaa,
Saturday.

yeater .ay.

London &
N. We-t.
L. &N. W.
iCaledon...
E. Un.

92 - 94
- 98

f 3.?:

Gt.Nrtnn.
E. Count.
Caldonian.

••• ..... ••

'Do

Gt. Westat
Yk. Now.
& Borw.
Y. &NM
Do

103 - 105

Do
3. Easton

-.-- -
12i --13.

Peto I; Co.

lif6 - ii•

'Norfolk
Do
L.& N. W
& Midid.
Stckton &
Darlingt.
Midland

21 - 2i

- 91

n . Coun.
E. Count.

par 4p
1)5 57

[DoDo... ......
1

L. tz N. W.

Do
Gt Northn
Lancash
Yorksh.
T. Brassoy
M. MClean
Stock t.
Darlingt
Do

fio 1: 1.*:;

• IS '''..
•••
7i 8
a: 2i i

id 31
81 83

'OtWi

SH.LRIS.

107 - 109
104 - 106

90 - 92

92 - 94

15 - 16

5i - 6i

- f
- I
11 - 12;

••• ""

G 7 -- b 9

J 3 - 115

.05 - 107
99 -- 101
- 10

6 - 6A
85 - 87
77 - 79
75 - 80
91. - 9i
15 - 16}
9. - 10
66 - 83
17 - 18
81 - 9
13 -13 i
d-
tn. - 133

MINES.

all !Aga. term .
all Anglo Anstrin. Gold
all Anglo Californian
6 Australian
.1,1 Australian Cordillera
11,Ave Maria,

11 Baden (Gd. Duchy of
11 Bleenarvon Iron and
Coal
4 British Iron
6 Brazilianlmp.(issued
at pm.)
11 Do. Cocacs r Cuiabs
.5 Do. St. John Dol Re 3
Clarendon Cons. Mitt,
Co. of Jamaica
,11 Cobro Copper
1 Colonial Gold
611 Copper Min. of Eng.
611 Do. Prof. 7} p. cent
.e Copiapo .
Fortuna
dl General..
11 Gt.NuggetVoinßog.
di Great Polgooth
al Gt Wheal Vor United
11 Liberty
11 Linares
I Lusitani an
611
al Now Granada
611 Nouveau Monde
611 Pontgiband Silver
Load Min. k Smelt
1 Port Philip
al Quartz Rock
611 'Rhynaney Iron
al Do. Now
1.3 i Santiago de Cuba
al South Australian
all Do. Scrip
Do. 10 per cent Prof
9 fin Croft .........
al United Mexican
11 Waller
l West Mariposa
Worthing Mining of
Australia
Yuba

i PM
Pal

59 8}

MISCELLANEOIIB.

Australian Agricalt.
Allah-min. Royal Mail
Berlin Water Works
Brit. American Land

Canada
Canada Gov. 6 p. ct
Jan. ana July
Crysta) Palace
Do. Preference
Crystal Pal. of Francs
Duston Iron Oro
Eastern Steam
En. &Aus Cop Sm Co
' Electric Telegraph
Electric Teleg. of Ir.
Gen. hen Sc Collier
Gen. Steam Navigat.
General Screw Steam
Irish Beetroot Sugai
Magdalena St. Navig
Niediteran. Elec. Tel.
Mexiettn&S.Americn.
Nat. Pat. Steam Fuoi
Netherlands Land....
Do. Do. ......
Do. Sp cP iss at I el
N. S. W. Coal di Inter.
Steam Navigat. Co.
New B. di N. S. Land
N. B. Australasian...
Nrth. of Europe Steam
Oriental Gus
Do. " New Shares "
Peel Rr. Ld.
Peninsular Orienta
Do. New

7i B

1091
241

Portland Iron Co
Royal Mail Steam
Scot, Austral. Invest
Ditto New
South Austral. Land
Submar. Tel. Scrip
Do. Registered
Trust& L. Co.U.Can
QUA Dionou'll Idand

x d

ad
a il

:d
11 i
ii

MARKET NEWS.—(This Day).

CORN EXCHANGE.

The leading country markets held on Saturday were
♦ery moderately supplied with wheat. The demand, how-
ever, was heavy, and prices were rather in favour of
buyers. All spring corn was dull ar.d drooping.
The latest advices from Now York state that over
900,000 quarters of grain and flour have been shipped
from the American ports since the let September. The
continental markets are dull and drooping.
Very moderate supplies of English grain were received
up to our market last week. The imports of foreign were
20,683 quarters of wheat, 1,531 barley, 7,131 beans, 7
peas, 13,526 linseed, 14,730 rapeseed, 33 mustard seed, 109
sundry seeds, 7,394 sacks, and 33,518 barrels of flour.
BINVe had a full average supply of English wheat on sale
to-day, in very middling condition. All kinds were exces-
sively dull in sale, and factors generally were willing to
submit to a reduction of from ls. to 2s. per quarter, but,
at that decline, there were very few buyers. A few picked
samples were taken at fully Is. per quarter less money,
but the remainder of the supply was unsold at the close of
business. Foreign wheat was much depressed—indeed, we
have no transactions to report in it, and the quotations
were nominal.

Floating cargoes of grain were dull and drooping.
Barley meta most inactive sale, at 2s per quarter less

money.
Malt was dull, and lower to purchase.
We had a very slow sale for oats, at Cd to is per quarter
less money.

Beans were very dull, and fully 2s per quarter lower
than on Monday last.
The sale for peas was heavy, and prices gave way quite
2s per quarter.
Country flour was 2s per sack cheaper. American gave
way is per barrel, and the top price of English fell 33, or
to 72s per sack.

CURRENCY PER IMPERIAL MEASURE.
Wheat—Essex & Kent,
Red ...• new 6is to 79a
Ditto•••• .... old 72s 848
Ditto, White new 59s 848
Ditto.. •..... old 775 88a
Norfolk And Lin-
coln, Red, old 735 84a
Ditto new 62s 808
Rye—Old •••• •••• •••• —s
New ............ 505 52s
Barley—Grinding••• .. 368 463
Malting ...••.... 40i 42s
. 443 45z,
Malt—Suffolk and Nor-

I Malt—Chevalier .. •• 80s to 82s
late—Yorkshire and
Lincolnsli.,Feed 25s 30s
Potato
' Youghal and Cork
Black. •• •• 25s 28s

folk.• •• •• 74s 82s
Brown..• ••.......• 64s • 70s
SingstonandWare 780 80s

Cork,Whlte.•• •• 26s 305
Sootch,Feed.•• .. 27s 345
Define—Tick ......... 40s 44s

Pigeons ...... 51s
Pens—Grey ........ •• 383 44$

Ma 10. - 14, 1,13
W rote. •••..• • . .. 48s 52s

Boilers •....... •• 50s 51a
Flour—Towu-mado. •• 70s 728
Suffolk .• .• .• •• 563 58s
Stooktn &Norfolk 56$ 58s

METROPOLITAN CATTLE MARKET.

Very limited supplies of foreign stock arrived in the
port of London last week—the total arrival being only
347 head. In the corresponding week in 1854 we received
1,410 ; in 1853, 1,802 ; in 1852, 2,568; and in 1851, 2,408
head.

impowrs INTO LONDON LAST WEEK.
From Beasts. Sheep. Lambs. Calves. Pigs.
Harlingen
Rotterdam 9O 100 .••

T0ta1.... 247 ... 100 ...
The yearly comparison of weekly imports is as follows :
Beasts. Sheep. Lambs. Calves. Pigs.
1854 621 ... 693 96
1853 405 1,678 ... 298 27
1852 3ll ... 1,867 ... 319 5
1851 451 1,196 155
A very limited supply of foreign stock was on sale hero
to-day, and the show of Irish was confined to only 70
boasts, and the same number of sheep.
The arrivals of home-fed beasts were
in but middling condition. As the
have disposed of their late extensive
trade ruled brisk, at an advance in the
on Monday last of quite 2d per Slbs.
readily produced 5s per 81bs.
From the Northern districts, we received 1,200 short
horns ; from other parts of England, SOO of various breeds;
and from Scotland, 250 horned and polled Scots.
Notwithstanding that the supply of sheep was very
limited, the mutton trade was heavy. In prices, how-
ever, no change took place. The best old Downs realised
5s per Slbs.
Very few calves were in the market, and they sold
briskly, at high quotations. The best calves produced 6s
per 81bs.
We had a moderate demand for pigs, at full quotations.
The supply was limited.
Per Bibs to sink the offals.
e. d. s. d.
Inferior Beasts.... 3 6to 3 8
Second quality.... 3 10 4 2
Prime large oxen 4 4 4 8
Prime Scots, &c. 410 5 0
Inferior Sheep ~.3 4 3 6
Second quality ...3 8 4 2
Prime crse.-wlled.4 4 4 6
TOTAL SUPPLY.
Beasts ............. ..... 2,992
ticep .• • .• ..... • .. •• •• ..18,000
Calves .. • • •. • • 57

very moderate, and
butchers generally
purchases, tho beef
quotations realised
The priniost Scots

d. s. d.
Prime Southdown 4 8 5 0
(Large erse. calves 410 5 6
Prime small d 0... 5 8 6 0
Largo hogs 3lO 4 4
Small porkers 4 6 5
Suckling calves..2l 0 30 0
,Quarter old pigs. 22 0 28 0

LITERATURE.

PROFESSOR WILSON'S WORKS.

Noctes Ambrosiancc. By Professor Wilson. Vols.

I. and 11. Blackwood and Sons.

It is under the genial and competent editorship
of his son-in-law, Professor Ferrier, that the writ-
ings of John Wilson are at length being republished
collectively. They lead off with his glorious and
ever-memorable "Noctes Ambrosiance "—among
all his works incomparably the one upon which his
fame will rest as upon its most broad, and solid,
and enduring foundation. A volume is announced
to appear quarterly, until the whole series of these
remarkable and varied compositions shall have
been completed. They will comprise our author's
charming "Tales," his classical "Poems," his inimi-
table " Recreations," his exquisite " Essays," both
critical and imaginative, and, together with these,
his elevating and authoritative " Lectures on
Moral Philosophy." Besides, of course, the not-
able introductory volumes of the collection, the
four precious tomes, containing (for the first time,
among us, in a separate form), the chef d'oeuvresof the
great departed genius, the recognised magnum opus
among his numerous masterpieces, the poetry, and
the eloquence, and the humour of his immortal
NOCTES AMBROSIANtE• How cordially this tardy
reprint of the " Noctes" ought to be welcomed,
every one must understand who can recall to mind

their periodical issue years ago in the pages of
Blackwood's Magazine, the Olympic throne of King
Christopher, from which flashed the light-
nings of his wit, and pealed in many an
awful volley the thunders of his denunciation.
It is almost to be regretted, we cannot but think,
that Professor Ferrier has enjoyed so perfect an
appreciation of these extraordinary Dialogues, that
he has cherished in their regard an admiration so
complete, so earnest, and so unreservedly out-
spoken that he has not been able, for the life of
him, to refrain from referring to them as they are
here presented to the reader, in the fullness and
entirety of their grand and colossal proportions, in
language that can alone be designated, even when
applied to the Nodes Ambrosiante—lauguago of the
most extravagant hyperbole and of the most fla-
grant exaggerati,m_ It L. alien, speaking of the
glorious Shepherd of the Noctes, the editor says of
him that " in wisdom he equals the Socrates
of Plato, in humour he surpasses the Fal-
staff of Shakspere," adding that " clear and
prompt he might have stood up against
Dr. Johnson in close and peremptory argument,
fertile and copious he might have rivalled Burke
in amplitude of declamation." Now, even when
applied to that matchless creation the " Shepherd"
of the Nodes Ambrosiance, we must protest against
eulogiums such as these as against some wholly ab-
surd and preposterous fanfarronade. To say that
the idealised Hogg of Professor Wilson equals the
Socrates of Plato in wisdom and surpasses the
Falstaff of Shakespere in humour, to talk of him
as a disputant no less logical than Samuel Johnson,
and no less rhetorical than Edmund Burke, is to
talk sheer stark staring nonsense, nonsense
altogether ludicrous and rhapsodical. Granted
that the hero of the Noctes—for such the Shepherd
unquestionably is even in the presence of North
and Tickler—granted that the hero of the
Noctes is really wonderful in many ways,
wonderful in eloquence, in wit, in pathos,
and in poetry, wonderful as a humorist, and as an
imaginative improvisatore—yot to say of him that
lie equals Plato and surpasses Shakspere, that he
might compete with Johnson and rival Burke, were
to give voice to the babblings of folly iq the accents
of rhodomontade. Professor Wilson presented to
the world, no doubt, the veritable apotheosis of
Hogg, in that marvellous delineation of the Et-
trick Shepherd, which is the chief glory of his won-
derful Nodes Ambrosiance. Nevertheless, even the
eminent genius displayed by him in the accomplish-
ment of this literary apotheosis cannot for an in-
stant be deemed any justification whatever of that
mistaken homage on the part of Professor Ferrier,
which has induced the latter to indulge in pompous
panegyrics, wholly out-heroding Herod by their
unjustifiable grandiloquence. Panegyrics spread-
ing out their windy proportions to the
swollen but empty bulk of the mere
puff preliminary. Of all men, Professor Wil-
son himself would have been indisputably the
very one to whom expressions of this ultra-encomi-
astic kind would have been in life the most utterly
repugnant. Of all works, the Nodes Ambrosiance
constitute tke very one the most signally indepen-
dent, we might conjecture, of praises thus mon-
strously exaggerated. Let the intelligent reader
of these two astonishing volumes forget, however,
if lie can, the prefatory compliments to the dead,
indulged in by Professor Ferrier with such miser-
ably bad taste, when standing, as it were, over the
grave of the great genius recently departed—and
it will be impossible not to acknowledge the judi-
cious skill with which (apart from that one blun-
der) Professor Ferrier has fulfilled the responsibi-
lities devolving upon him in the discharge of the
grateful duties oeditorship. How pleasantly hepre-
pares the way for the uninitiated in the mysteriesof the
Nodes, by identifying one after another the three
masterly interlocutors ! After a perusal of the
editor's delightful " Preface," every one may pro-
ceed with renewed satisfaction and whetted appe-
tite, to the enjoyment of " the feast of reason and
the flow of soul," set forth for general refection in
these memorable Forty-oho Edinburgh Nights'
Entertainment. Seventy-ono nu tubers there were
altogether as originally published at uncertain in-
tervals between the years 1822 and 1835,
in Blackwood's Magazine. But of these no
less than thirty have been judiciously sup-
pressed by the editor, as written by other
and inferior contributors to Maga than Professor
John Wilson, or at the best, as only partly aided
here and there by the wit and wisdom of King
Christopher. Already the United States had set
the example years ago by a republication of the
Noctes Ambrosiance, in two comprehensive editions,
giving the whole seventy-one nights indiscrimi-
nately, the later of these two wholesale reprints hav-
ing been ingeniously edited by the late Dr. Shelton
Mackenzie, the accomplished author of " Titian."
Speaking f Dr. Mackenzie's American edition of
the " Noctes," Professor Ferrier candidly acknow-
ledges that "in spite of some slips and a good many
oversights—(mostly to be explained on the ground
that it was impossible for him to be in possession of
the requisite information)—it is on the whole credit-
able to the industry and good sense of that gentle-
man." High praise, indeed, as coming from the son-
in-law of the gifted wsiter of the " Noctes," and the
authorised editor of the revised and authentic edi-
tion, here at length put forward by the Messrs. Black-
wood themselves. At length, in this goodly reprint
of Professor Wilson's glorious Noctes, extending as
we have seen to no less than forty-one altogether,
we are permanently placed in pc,: session of the
cream of the whole of the immortal Dialogues—
not with a mere selection from them, but with
everything essentially constituting the great work
hitherto known and henceforth to be more clearly
than ever recognised as the "Noctes Ambrosiance."
Everybody remembers, of course, that the three
principal interlocutors in these same renowned
Dialogues were Christopher North, Timothy
Tickler, and the Ettrick Shepherd. Everybody,
however, is not so distinctly acquainted with the
fact that while North meant John Wilson himself,
and the Shepherd, James Hogg, author of "The
Queen's 'Wake " and " Kilmeny," Tickler typifyed
in a no less wonderful manner one Robert Sym,
Writer to the Signet, born in 1750, and who died in
1844, at the patriarchal aged of 94. The character of
Mr. Sym was of course slightly idealised in the person
of Mr. Tickler, as that of Professor Wilson was in
some respects dwarfed and in others expanded in
the imaginary shape of Mr. North, the ever glo-
rious, and terrible, and loveable, and inimitable
Christopher. But with Hogg it was very different
indeed—the prototype being immeasurably sur-
passed by the ideal counterpart. As we have
already expressed it, James Hogg, noble original
though he undoubtedly was in the flesh, enjoyed a
veritable apotheosis in the Ettrick Shepherd of the
Ifoctes Ambrosiance. The Shepherd of the Noctes,
indeed, may well be described by Professor Ferrier
as " one of the finest and most finished creations
which dramatic genius ever called into existence."
It is in every particular a perfect masterpiece. In
wit, in humour, in grace, in tenderness, in elo-
quence, in poetry of feeling and of description, the
Shepherd of the Noctes is altogether won-
derful. Whether he is describing " Tic
Doloureux " with an irresistible ridiculous-
ness worthy of the creator of Pantagruel, or solilo-
quising about clocks and fiddles, mirrors, sofas,
and kitchen chairs—he is everywhere, in all moods,
in all phases, without an atom of exaggeration, be
it said, entirely incomparable. Listen to him
dis-
coursing in the cool sea-water at Portobello, swal-
lowing brine by the
gallon in the wash of the
steam-boat, gasping between whiles—,, Em—hem
—umph—humph—whoo—whoo—whurr whurr
—while Ticklers spluttering in
herrachvacherach"
the same surge-swell hard by—" Whsy—whsy—
whsy hugh—whugh—slaugh—shugh—ptsugh—
i
prgugh !" Hear him fieering at the said Tickler
across the steam of the whisky jug, fragrant with
lemons and sugar,
saccharine and acidulated
like his own Wise banter ; or hearken to him
as he beards the leonine North even while
within roach of the sweep of his formidable crutch,
telling him—" there's nae denyin' that when you
either skaitch or feenish aff, after your ain manner,
there's few hauus like Christopher North, either
ancient or modern : but excuse me, sir, for sayin',
that about the tenth tummler or sae, oh, sir, you
are tiresome, tiresome." Everywhere, in any mood,
in any phase, the Shepherd is, we repeat, delicious,
inimitable, incomparable. Ambrose's Tavern, situ-

ated in the street or lane of Gabriel's-road, in the
ancient city of Edinburgh, was in truth the ecene
of many a gay symposium for John Wilson, and
Robert Sym, and James Hogg, and their com-
panions, but the veritable "Ambrosial' Nights," in
which Tickler, and North, and the Shepherd shone
forth resplendently must be looked for, not in Ga-
briel's-road, but in Blackwood's Magazine. Repro-
duced for the delight of after times in these noble
volumes, the "Noctes Ambrosianm " of Professor
Wilson will not fail to sustain some of the loftier
and rarer attributes of his splendid and in many
respects heroic reputation.

MR. DICKENS' NEW STORY.
Little Dorrit. By Charles Dickens. No. 11.
Bradbury and Evans. _

A wonderfully clever number is this second in-
stalment of Mr. Dickens's new story of " Little
Dorrit"—a number so replete with " good things"
as almost to dissipate our remembrance of the four
chapters given to the world a month ago by way of
introduction. We obtain at last something better
than a merely tantalising glimpse of Little Dorrit,
the heroine of the tale. We learn all about her
birth and parentage. We discover in her home the
old debtors' prison of the Marshalsea—in her father
the Father of the Marshalsea—in herself the Child
of the Marshalsea. Amy, otherwise Little Dorrit,
proves to be a tiny woman, some twenty-two years
of age, who goes out for so many hours a day to gain
a few shillings by needlework. The youngest of
the family, she is, nevertheless, its chief guide, sup-
port, and protector. The stay of her old white-
headed father William Dorrit, better known by the
name, style, and title of the Father of the Mar-
shalsea ! The successor to her poor dead mother—
being, in fact, a strange kind of second mother to her
elder sister Fanny, who is a ballet-dancer, and to her
luckless brother Tip, who is an unmitigated scape-
grace and an irredeemable ne'erdoweel. Another
member of the Dorrit family there is in the person of
old William Dorrit's brother Frederick—tle shabby,
ruined, broken-down uncle of Amy, Tip, and
Fanny, himself a clariouet player in th© orchestra
of.the very theatre in which-the last-mentioned is
permanently engaged as a danseusc. Here is Mr.
Dickens's wonderful description of old Frederick
Dorrit, the orchestral player of the clarionet.
" Ho stooped a good deal, and plodded along in a slow
preoccupied manner, which made the bustling London
thoroughfares no very safe resort for him. He was dirtily
and meanly dressed, in a threadbare coat, once blue, reach-
ing to his ankles and buttoned to his chin, whore it
vanished iu the pale ghost of a velvet collar. A piece of
red cloth with which that phantom had been stiffened is
its lifetime was now laid bare, and poked itself up, at the
back of the old man's neck, into a confusion of grey hair
and rusty stock and buckle which altogether nearly poked
his hat off. A greasy hat it was, and a napless ; impending
over his eyes, cracked and crumpled at the bi itn, and with a
wisp of pocket handkerchief dangling out below it. His
trowsers were so long and loose, and his shoes so clumsy
and large, that he shuffled like an elephant ; though how
much of this was gait, and how much trailing cloth and
leather, no one could have told. Under one arm he carried
a limp and worn-out case, containing some wind instru-
ment ; in the same hand he had a pennyworth of snuff iu
a little packet of whitey-brown paper, from which he
slowly comforted his poor old blue nose with a lengthened-
out pinch, as Arthur elenman looked at him."
It is honest Arthur Clennam who hunts up the
family of the Dorrits, and finds them, as we have
seen, located in the ancient debtors' prison of the
Marshalsea. William Dorrit having been there
years and years, uutil he has come to be its
Father—the condition of his three children being
kept a secret from him to the last, whether it be as
to Fanny's dancing of nights at the theatre, or
as to Tip's being a prisoner like himself, or as to Amy's
beingau industrious little needlewoman. An inkling
is afforded us, through the suspicious of Arthur
Clennam, that the misery to which these luckless
Dorrits have been reduced is in reality traceable to
his own father and mother long years ago, and
that upon him devolves the responsibility of some
noteable expiation. Whether his mysterious con-
jectures be true or false the plot has yet to reveal
during the process of its development. As yet we are
left, like him, merely to vague conjectures, or at
best to shrewd suspicions. The chapter on Family
Affairs introducing us again to the abominable
Jeremiah Fliutwinch, of the cut-down aspect, and
to Arthur's grim old grey-headed mother, who
looks for all the world, when seated at her desk,
with her two hands laid out separately upon it,
and the tall cabinet towering before her, " as if she
were performing on a dumb church organ." The
upshot of this chapter is that Arthur and his
mother become more than ever estranged ; the
former seceding from the business to make way,
as it proves, for the admission into the house of
a new partner, in the person of the horrible
old "cut-down" Jeremiah Flintwineh. The chap-
ter following introduces us to the Marshalsea,
and makes us acquainted with William Dorrit, its
Father—taking us there (among other times) " at
certain constitutional moments when somebody
came from some Office to go through some form_
of overlooking something, which neither he nor
anybody else knew anything about"—wandering
round the prison " while this somebody pre-
tended to do his something, and made a reality of
walking out again when he hadn't dune it—neatly,"
says Mr. Dickens, with his wise, droll, satiric ban-
ter, " neatly epitomising the administration of
most of the public affairs in our right little, tight
little, island." Here—in the old Marshalsea Pri-
son, an evil spoe happily now no longer to be found
in London—we are brought face to face with a sot
of extraordinarily life-like characters, who are pre-
sented to us one after another in a series of mar-
vellous portraitures. There is, for example, Bob
the benevolent Turnkey, who becomes the god-
father of Little Amy Dorrit, talking to her
tenderly about the green fields " over there,"
full of flowers, buttercups, and daisies, and
dandelions, "and all manner of games"—and
speaking of her father as having played a piano
in the Marshal's house—" like one o'clock—beau-
tiful !" Then there is the Doctor of the Marshal-
sea, once upon a time surgeon of a passenger ship,
who is discovered first of all as one of " two hoarse,
puffy, red-faced personages, seated at a ricketty
table, in a wretched, ill-smelling little room, playing
at all-fours, smoking pipes and drinking brandy"—
the Doctor's friend (one of the two) being " in the
positive degree of hoarseness, puffiness, redf iced-
ness, all-fours, tobacco, dirt, and brandy," the Doc-
tor himself being in the comparative—" hoarser,
puffier, more redfaced, more all-foury, tobaccoer,
dirtier, and brandier !" Here, however, is his
portrait entire :
" The doctor wag amazingly shabby, in a torn and darned
rough- weather sea-jacket, out at elbows and oninently short
of button-3 (he had in his time the experienced surgeon car-
ried by a passenger ship), the dirtiest white trowsers con-
ceivable by mortal man, carpet slipprs, and no visible linen.
Childbod?' said the doctor. 'l'm the boy !' 'With that
the doctor took a comb from the chimaey-piece and stuck
his hair upright—which appeared to be his way of washing
himself—produced a professional chest or case, of most
abject appearance, from the cupboard where his cup and
saucer and coals were, settled his ch,n in the frowsy wrap-
per round his neck, and became a ghastly medical scare-
crow."
Besides the Doctor there is Mrs. Bangham, Char-
woman and Messenger to the Marshalsea, who, as
years roll on, ultimately goes very wrong indeed,
being " found oftener than usual comatose on pave-
ments, with her basket of purchases spilt, and the
change of her clients' ninepence short These
are the personages who assist at the entrance of
poor Little Amy Dorrit into the world—Bob as
god-father, Mrs. Bangham as Nurse, and the
Doctor as Accoucheur. It is as successor to Mrs.
Bangham in her capacity as Messenger that Tip
first of all makes his appearance, executing his
commissions in a knowing manlier, and " becoming
of the prison prisenous and of the streets streety.'
In the next chapter we learn how it comes to
pass that Little Dorrit gets her sister Fanny in-
structed in opera dancing by an insolvent dancing
master, who takes " a matter of two weeks to set to
his creditors, lead off, turn the Commissioners, and
right and left back to his professional pursuits."
And how it was that Uncle Frederick, coming to be
ruined by his brother William, showed no further
sense of the calamitythan "leaving off washing him-
self when the shock was announced and never
taking to that luxury any more"—resorting
at last, as we have shown, for support, to playing
a clarionot, as dirty ai himself, in a small Theatre
Orchestra. Here, however, is an example of
Charles Dickens in his happiest style, as now, once
more, shining forthin this second number of "Little
Dorrit." It is the exquisite description given by
him of the first interview between the Turnkey,
and the poor Debtor who ultimately becomes
Father of the Marshalsea :
"He was a shy, retiring man ; well-looking, though in
an effeminate style; with a mild voice, curling hair, and
irresolute hands—rings upon the fingers in those days--
which nervously wandered to his trembling lip a hundred
times, in the first half-hour of his acquaintance with the
jail. His principal anxiety was about his wife.
" Do you think, sir," he asked the turnkey, " that she
will be very much shocked, if she should come to the gate
to-morrow morning ?"
" The turnkey gave it as the reoult of his experience
that some of 'em was and some of 'em wasn't. In general,
more no than yes. What like is she, you see?' he philo-
sophically asked : that's what it hinges on.'
" She is very delicate and inexperienced indeed.'
" That,' said the turnkey, is ages her.'
" 'She is so little used to go out alone,' said the debtor,
that I am at a loss to think how she will ever make her
way here, if she walks.'
" P'raps,' quoth the turnkey,
• `she'll take a ackney
coach.
. -

" Perhaps.' The irresolute fingers went to the trem-
bling lip. I hope she will. She may not think of it.'
" Or p'raps,' said the turnkey, offering his suggestions
from the top of his well-worn wooden stool, as he might
have offered them to a child for whose weakness ho felt a
compassion, p'raps she'll get her brother, or her sister,
to come along with her. "
" She has no brother nor sister.'
" Niece, netwousin,serwant, young 'oontan, gremgrocer

—Dash it ! One or another on'ern,' said the turnkey, re.
pudiating beforehand the refusal of all his suggestions.
I fear—l hope it is not against the rules—that she will
brine, the children.' _ _

" "'The children?' said the turnkey, And the rules
Why, lord set you up like a corner pin, we've a reg'lar
playgiound o' children here. Children ? Why, we swarm
with 'ens. How many a you got ?'
"`Two,' said the debtor, lifting his irresolute hand to
his lip again, and turning into the prison.
" Tae turnkey followed him with his eyes. And you
another,' he observed to himself, which makes three on
you. And your wife another, I'll lay a crown. Which
makes four on you. And another coming, I'll lay half-a-
crown. Which'll will make five on you. And I'll go an-
other seven and sixpence to name which is the helplessest,
the unborn baby or you.'"

As a marvellous companion-sketch to which, we
must, perforce, give that other little scene in
which William Dorrit, old and white-headed
now, the Father of the Marshalsea, is" tipped"
in coppers by a Plasterer
" One afternoon he had been doing the honours of the
place to a rather large party of collegians, who happened
to be going out, when, as he was coming back, he encoun-
tered one from the poor side who had been taken in execu-
tion for a small sum a week before, had ' settled' in the
course of that afternoon, and was going out too. The man
was a mere plasterer, in his working dress ; had hie wife
with him, and a bundle ; and was in high spirits.
"' God bless you, sir,' he said in passing.
" And you,' benignantly returned the Father of the
Marshalsea.
" They were pretty far divided, going their several ways,
when the plasterer called out, ' say !—sir r and came
back to him.
" It ant much,' said the plasterer, pitting a little pile
11 of halfpence in his hand, ' but it's well meant.,
" The Father of the Marshalsea had never been offered
tribute in copper yet. His children often had, and with
his perfect acquiescence it had gone into the common
purse, to buy meat that he had eaten, and drink that he
had drunk ; but fustian splashed with white lime, bestow•
ing halfpence on him, front to front, was new.
" ' How dare you!' he said to the man, and feebly
burst into tears.
" The plasterer turned him towards the wall, that his
faco might not be seen ; and the action was so delicate, and
the man was so penetrated with repentance, and asked
pardon so honestly, that he could make him no less ackno
lodgment than, ' I know you meant it kindly. Say no
more.'
" Bless your soul, sir,' urged the plasterer, I did in.
deed. I'd do more byyon than the rest of 'em do, I fancy.'
" What would you do?' he asked.
'l'd come back to ace you, after I was let out.'
" Give me the money again,' said the other, eagerly,
and I'll keep it, and never spend it. Thank you for it,
thank you! I shall see yen again ?'
" If I live a week you shall.'
"They shook hands and parted. The collegians assini•
bled in Symposium in the Snuggery that night, marvelled
what had happened to their Father ; he walked so late in
the shadows of the yard, and seemed se downcast."

Enough—the whole of this marvellous picture of
prison-life is painfully true to nature, the marvellous
picture here painted in magic colours by the master-
hand of our inimitable Boz—a hand that has never
drawn more wondrous ambiances of reality than
these same peopled scenes of the ancient debtors'
prison of the Marshalsea.

THE AMERICAN CLEARING-HOUSE

SYSTEM.

(From, the United States' Economist.)

The following description is by Mr. George D.
Oman, the manager :
"At the hour of 10 a.m. all the banks, members of
the association, 48 in number, are represented at the
clearing-house by two clerks—one a settling clerk, the
other a specie clerk, or porter. The settling clerks
bring with them their statement, which shows first the
amount of the receipts of the bank which they represent
up to the close of the business of the previous day ;
secondly, the amount which has been added from tho
morning remittances ; and lastly, the total amount which
they bring to the clearing-house for exchange, being the
amount of the first two items united. They also bring a
ticket, which informs us of the amount sent in by the
bank which they represent, and which amount we cre-
dit them with. Their statement has a column in which
the amounts to be received are to be entered. The
specie clerk or porter of each bank brings with him a
statement of the amount which the bank he represent
sends in against each of the other banks, and he also
brings the money, made up in parcels, with a slip upon
the top, stating the amount of each item of exchange,
and the total or footing of whole sari to be delivered to
each bank. His statement has a bank column headed
' received by.' At ten o'clock all the clerks are called
to their places, the settling clerks upon the inside of
the counter, which is built in the form of an oval ; and
the porters upon the outside, all the banks being
arranged numerically, in the order of age, upon the
counter, and each assigned a space, which, divided off,
separates them from each other. The porters bring their
money so arranged that the top exchange is the one for
the bank next them on the right, and the last exchange
the one for the bank next to their position on the left.
" At a signal from the manager each porter at the
hour of 10 precisely moves to the right, delivering to the
first bank next on his right the exchange which he has
for them, and receiving the receipts of their settling clerk
for it, who is careful to see that the exchange he receives
agrees with the amount written on the statement of the
porter of the bank from whom lie receives it, and thus
the porters proceed until they have made the circuit of
the room, and delivered to each bank the exchange they
brought against them, and received their receipts there-
for, which brings them back to the point of starting
(their own desk), with all their exchanges delivered and
receipted for. This is done by es in five minutes. The ex-
changes for each bank are thus brought into the hands
of their settling clerk, who proceeds to enter theca to the
credit of each bank, after which ho calls them back with
his porter, and then foots his receipts, ascertaining the
ainmant which he has received and the result of the ex-
change, which either makes his bank debtor to or credi-
tor with the clearing-house ; the porter then returns
home with his receipts, carrying the information of
the result of the exchange of his principals, who know
by a quarter-past 10 o'clock rem. their position for
the day, either as debtor or creditor bank. The settling
clerk then prepares a ticket for the clearing-house, which
states the amount he brought, and his balance either as
a debtor or a creditor. From these tickets, and those
before-named as being brought by the settling clerks
when they come to the clearing-house, the entries upon
the clearing-house proof are made, and at half-past 10
o'clock a.m., the result announced. Among so many
clerks it of course seldom happens that a proof is made
at the first announcement, some errors being almost sure
to be made. For the detection of these errors the small
check tickets are used. You will notice that the proof is
based upon the settling clerk's statements, and that it is
assume-I that the accounts stated on them are correct.
You will also perceive that two amounts upon the state-
mene of each settling clerk must be finis(' upon ti.a
statement of every other bank belongin to the aseocia-
tinn, so that in order to assure their agreement it is re-
quired of each settling clerk that he shall make out a set
of tickets from his statement, stating the amount which
by it he has sent against every other bank. After deli-
vering those tickets he proceeds to check those which he
has received, and by them reconciles the entry which he
has made ; and if the proof is not thus made, the differ-
ence must be in footing, which is found by directing the
clerks to exchange statements an I to examine each
other's footings. This, of course, detects the errors.
"A system of fines is connected with the system, 45
minutes being allowed for a proof, all errors found after
that time being fined and reported to their banks. This
insures care upon their part, and we usually make the
proof within the time allowed. Connected with the
clearing-house is a bank selected for a deposit bank, the
Bank of America acting for the association in that ca-
pacity. In this bank any bank deposits such an amount
of coin as it may see fit, taking from them a certificate of
deposit in amounts of 500,$ $l,OOO, ss,ooo,and $lO,OOO,
certifying that they have received and hold such amounts
as a special deposit payable to the order of any of the
associated banks, and that they hold such amounts in
holds in this way $6,500,000. These certificates are
trust as a special deposit. The bank of America now
kthe settlement of balances. At one o'clock all
which are debtor come to the clearing-house
tu hs ee db banns
nri
and pay in these certificates, and in bills and change for
sums less than 5500 clear the balance against them. At
trill-past one the debtor banks having paid their balances
~nd taken a receipt for them, the creditor banks, by
their porters, receive the balances due them, giving a
receipt therefor, and at two o'clock the settlement is
made. This is a brief description of the business of each
day. The direct results of the above are as follows—
viz., the bringing of 48 balances into one, and the set-
tlement of such balances ; the saving of a vast number
, of entries and postings, and of much time and labour
for cashiers, tellers, and porters ; the perfect independ-
ence of all banks of each other, and the facilities af-
, lorded by the accounts of the clearing-house for esti-
mating the standing and management of all the other
banks belonging to the association ; the transportation
of specie in the payment of balances, and many ether
benefits of the same character. The indirect benefits
are fully equal to the direct, but as they will suggest
themselves to you I will riot speak of them. It is suffi-
r cient to say that the system is perfectly satisfactory to
the banks of this city, and that it tends to promotesound
banking, and that its success here has been perfect, and
is as satisfactory to the banks as to the public."

The planet Saturn is a fine object at present in the
evening. At first it is in the east, moving towards the
south, and is the largest star in that part of the heavens.
About midnight it is directly south, and through a good
telescope it is singularly beautiful.
SERIOUS ACCIDENT TO Sin GEORGE GRET.—We are
sorry to learn that the Right Hon. Sir George Grey has
met with an accident whilst hunting. The right ,hon.
baronet left town on Thursday evening for Coleshill-
park, Berkshire, on a visit to the Earl of Radnor, with
the intention of enjoying a few days' hunting in that
neighbourhood. The Home Secretary, on Friday, at-
tended the meeting of the Old Berkshire (Mr. Morrell's)
Hounds, at Buscott-park, and in the midst of the eh4se
the right hon. baronet's horse fell, and threw Sir George
with great force on his right arm. We regret to say
that on being lifted from the ground, it was found that
the right hos. baronet had sustained a serious injury by
breaking the bone of his right arm just above the wrist.
The right hon. baronet was instantly conveyed to the
Earl of Radnor's seat, when medical aid was soon ob.
tained, and the broken bone set with very trifling delay.
It affords us much pleasure to add that up to Saturday
the right hon. baronet was going on very well, and it is
fully believed that no danger is likely to ensue, all
symptoms being extremely favourable. Sir George Grey
remains at Coleshill-park for the present, and, if no
`worse, will be in town on Thursday next to assist in the
deliberations at the Cabinet Council to be held that day