The Sun.
London, England, 1864-07-15 00:00:00

TilfereSUN, LONDON, FRIDAY EVENING-, JULY 15, 1864

tralia. There was also something out of the corn-
mon order of farewells in the nature of the spot in
which this leave-taking took place. "We shall
recall," said Mr. KEAN, " with peculiar gratifica-
tion the fact of having given utterance to the lan-
guage of SHAKSPERE sixteen thousand miles from
home in a populous city, built upon a spot which
thirty years ago was a lonely wilderness." Nothing
could attest with greater force as to the spread of
culture and the march of mind than the fact of the
plays of SIIAKSPERE being appreciated in that new
world where the Anglo-Saxon race has taken root.
It seems as if the prediction of MACAULAY had
already been realised when he said that the litera-
ture of England would be read with delight by the
" unborn millions who will cover with cities and
gardens the Caffrarian and Australian deserts." It
is satisfactory in every point of view to contemplate
this scene in Australia. It is pleasant to think that
though earth's extension intervenes between us and
the inhabitants of that continent, the same tastes
may pervade our lives, and the works of our
immortal bard may there, as here, be recog-
. nised and appreciated. " Whether we shall

agitating,

- -
meet again I know not, therefore an everlas

ing farewell take," were most appropriate
words in which to conclude, and Mr KEAN showed
his usual discernment and discrimination in select-
ing them. It is a very commendable practice for
our great actors to pay visits to our distant colonies,
and thus form a connecting link, as it were, with
home and abroad. Mr and Mrs KEAN have always
been favourites in this country, and their many
friends and numerous admirers will rejoice that
they have met -viith so cordial a welcome and so
flattering a testimonial to their abilities in Aus-
tralia. If Mr KEAN intends in reality to retire now,
and rest cn his laurels, he could not have made a
more fitting conclusion ; and if he still proposes to
continue for a time his histrionic labours this visit
to a distant sphere, where the triumphs of the
English tongue are witnessed, will be an episode in
his career which will long live in his memory end
hold a conspicuous place in the chronicles of his
career hereafter. It must be considered that this is
an appropriate year for Mr KEAN to have been in
Australia, and that it is a further proof and a more
extended exemplification of the universality of the
genius of our great writer, that while the people of
this country were endeavouring to do honour to the
birthday of that " dear son of memory and great
heir of fame," the inhabitants of a distant spot also
concurred in offering their tribute of applause and
approval. He lives not for one age, but for all time ;
and it is the chief merit of his unrivalled produc-
tions that they are now as applicable to the events
of life and the characters of men as when they were
first penned. It is a great boon to our colonists
that they should hear the works of the great writer
interpreted by so great a master of his art as Mr
CHARLES KEAN.

A strong feeling is prevalent at this moment
that, with all our apparent sympathy for the
Southern Confederacy, we permit the Northern
army to be recruited from among our own people,
on our own soil, with impunity. We open our
eyes and look with suspicion on British built iron
clads, which, says rumour, are for JEFF. Davis's
Government; but our vision is dimmed, and our
hearing not over sensitive, when British born
subjects are inveigled, by a species of false pre•
tence, to enter the ranks of ABE LINCOLN'S army.
Has England become lost to all sense of honour ?
Will she forget that from her honour has sprung
her greatness ? She should not then permit the
breath of suspicion to tarnish the mirror which
reflects it. Besides, if she were guided by no
other policy than mere selfishness, she would
keep the bone and sinew of her country
at home. There are " breakers ahead," and with
all our desire for peace, we know not from day to
day how soon we may have to prepare for war.
We are of those to whom " coming events cast
their shadows before," and no long time will elapse
probably before the British army will ba called upon
again to uphold the honour of their country. And

it
iis well here to consider how far the defects in the
organisation of our army might prejudice its in-
crease so far as recruiting would be concerned. We
think the position of the private soldier has less in
it now to induce enlistment than when England
was less wealthy and less great as a nation. The
two things to be looked to as a means of drawing
the working-classes into the army by voluntary
enlistment, are promotion and pension. The oppor-
tunities for promotion from the ranks we know to be
very limited, and as the British army is constituted
it would be very unwise, of course, to adopt the
French system. Men naturally, then, look to what
they would be likely to receive, either as present
pay or as pension, when, from wnunde or length of
service, they may be thrown back again upon the
world. 11' ill it be sufficient to keep them from
begging their bread, should failing strength pre•
vent them from working ? We unhesitatingly say,
No. How can it when the pension for length of
of service is only eightpence per day ? England
has not acted wisely or well towards the
private soldier. The case of the poor old
man, ROFF, for whom an appeal was lately
made in the public papers, is a disgrace to Eng-
land, and not likely to be forgotten whenever a call
for the army is required. We are not alone in this.
opinion ; we are borne out in our views by the
author of a pamphlet called " The Court-Martial,"
which, in the form of a satirical drama, deals very
ably with the subject, although we do not admire
its entire principles. JOHN BULL is a prisoner, and
brought to trial " for conduct unbecoming the cha-
racter of a gentleman (he being the personification
of the mind and will of the British people and their
sole representative)." Among the witnesses is JOHN
HORSMAN, a pensioner, who is examined as to the
long service pension. When asked—" Had you
served longer than twenty-one years, would you
have received a higher pension ?" He replies,—
" Any man who liked to serve longer, and was able,
got a halfpenny a day for every year; but
few men were able. T eientereone years'
soldiering is living three years for two.
Marchings, camps, bivouacs, and Indian climate
bring on rheumatic pains; the joints get stiff; the
pack gets heavier ; younger men pass you in the
double; and there is a gradual failing (yet unseen
to others) in the physical powers, that really few
men are fit for active soldiering. Besides, has the
11 soldier, after twenty-one years' absence, no home
that his heart yearns for ?" Another pensioner,
THOMAS ATKINS, is asked," What are your service,
corps, and pension ?" " I served twenty-one years
in the Rifles, and have eightpence a day." JOHN
HAWK, a recruiting sergeant, is asked, " As a re■
cruiting sergeant, do you consider that the present
low rate of pension affects the recruiting ?'' " Yes;
most injuriously. Formerly a comfortably-to-do
pensioner was the best of advertisements, whereas
now the young fellows point at the pensioners, and
gibingly sap, ' And be turned off like him when we
are old:" The writer of the pamphlet, whoever he
may be, is evidently a man who has hat opportu-
nities of knowing the feelings of the private soldier.
The arguments do not come from the pen of a
novice. Would it not be well, then, for our Govern-
ment to consider how far the present system of pay
and pensions will affect the future? Whether, with
prospect of protection in old age, those men who

are being beguiled by Yankee boast to join the
Federal ranks would not remain at home and be
ready to shoulder a musket and wield a sword in
defence of " Old England," should their services be
required? The subject is, at the very least, worth,

LATEST INTELLIGENCE.

LRETITER'S TELEGRAMS.]

DENMARK,

SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES BY THE
DANE S,

DANZIG, JULY 14.

The harbourmaster has forwarded the following
report to the Chief of the Merchants' Guild :
" Three Danish ships of war, under a flag of truce
arrived off the harbour yesterday evening. I went
out to meet them, and received a despatch addressed
to the military commander of Danzig.
" According to the statements of the officer bear-
ing the flag of truce the despatch referred to, an-
nounced the suspension of hostilities on the part of
the Danes.

"Two Danish steamers came in sight this morn-
ing. They are coming from th© eastward and
making for the bay of Hela lighthouse."

ITALY.
TURIN, JULY 15,

The bill authorising the sale of the State rail-
ways to the house of Messrs. Rothschild will not
come on for discussion this Feision.
The rumours of an expedition being undertaken
by Garibaldi are unfounded.

SPAIN•
MADRID, JULY 14.

The Epoca of to•day scys :—The precautionary
measures taken by the Government on the 6th inst.
against an insurrectionary movement in Madrid
was not useless. The conspirators were ready to
take posseasion of the telegraph lines, and announce
to the provinces that a revolution had broken out
in Madrid, after which they would have awaited
the effect of this intelligence.

THE BOMBAY lIAIL.

ALEXANDRIA, JULY 14.

The Ripon and Delta with the above mail left
Alexandria at 10 a.m. to-day. The former may be
expected at Marseilles on the 20:h, and the latter
at Southampton about the 27th inst.
OUTWARD MAIL OF 27rn JUN-4TH JULY.
The Jeddo with the above mall left SUEZ for.
Bombay on the 13th inst.

••,10 .......•

SOUTHAMPTON, JULY 15.

The North German Lloyd steamer 'Lusa from
Now York passed the Needles at 9.10 a.m. to-day,

BUENOS AYRES, MAY 27.
(By Telegraph from Lisbon.)

Exchange, 501; Ounces, 28.80; wet salted
hides, 381; dry American, 37/ 39i ; tallow, 14i ;
lumber, 36 to 40; flour, 71 8; refiutd sugar, 221,
Imports duller, but unchanged in price.

LITERATURE.

The Bar Sinister. A Tale. By Charles Allston
Collins. 2 vols. Smith, Elder, and Co.
A delightful humorist, and one, moreover, whose
verymanner has about it an exhilarating animation—
Mr. Charles Allston Collins, whenever he comes to
us book in hand, is invariably welcome for his own
sake ; and. not alone for the sake of those others, the
mere thought of whom, nevertheless, with ourselve:,,
at least,en'aances the attraction of his own nevie, sur-
rounding it, so to speak, upon each of hies titre-pages
with a very halo of pleasant associations. Associa-
tions with some among our most treasured memo
ries, both in the world of art and in the world of
literature ! And, what makes them dearer to us yet
—memories of what is essentially English Art and
intensely and expressly English Literature. It is
not, however, simply—it is not, however, by this
time even mainly—because of these varied and
charming associations connected with his very name,
that Mr. Charles Collins is always sure now-a-days
of a cordial welcome, when he proffers a new work to
our consideration. It is as, that arch-wag of keenest
observation, " The Y;ye Witness"—it is as that
eccentric gentlenaan who once upon a time made a
certain memorable "Cruise Upon Wheels," that he
can no-5' always claim our regard and command our
ettSention whenever he lists ! And not simply, as it
might have been at the outset—as the younger son of
a great national painter, as the younger brother of
e distinguished novelist, or last, and far from least,
es the son-in.law of incomparably the greatest
Humourist in the whole range of our Eng-
tish Literature. For himself alone, for his own
sake that is, apart from all these delightful associa-
tions he could not fail to be welcome, as he
is welcome—and that, moreover, himself as Artist,
as Novelist, as Humourist. Here in this veiy book
naw submitted by him to our consideration, indeed,
is ample testimony of his possessing, in his own
right, certain rare good gifts in each of those capa-
cities. " The Bar Sinister" is a tale, ha- ~
Aniy,
without any s'nister termination. In :pits or the
evil omen hinted by its title, it r.eds completely
to the reader's satisfaction. Speaking dramati-
cally—the Time, in it, es about half a year in
duration—the Scene is French for the most part
—while the Ch9;eacters, at least the chief among
them, are English. The hero and heroine of the
tale mad be said, at any rate, to stand forth to view,
in t'ne picture here presented to us, may be said
to stand forth conspicuously to our view upon a
French background ! The hero a major in the
English army, the heroine a young lady, ',Ore in
her whole manner, no less than in her whole
appearance, is entirely and essentially English !
The latter, it is, who has frightfully re7seied
here, upon her otherwise stainless escutcheon
—The Bar Sinister ! Madeleine 'es her name, the.
name of this Mademoiselle d'
,!mar, who is first in.
ti educed to u (as the re.,dde, of the tale), as indeed
she is first of all theen introduced to Major Trelane
(as the hero of. ',t)—one rainy, sombre day, upon one
of the by AA gravel walks of that stately, old, de-
serte, garden surrounding the ancient Palace of
s .
f ersatlies. The plot of the story is admirably well
contrived. The interest of it concentrates (ell through
it) upon the loves and lives and fortunes of Henry
Trelane and Madeleine d'Elmer. How those loves
and lives and fortunes of the two are affected
favourably or unfavourably, by the other characters
of the story, be it the tale-teller's own especial pro •
vince and privilege to relate—not ours. S efficient for
our purpose will be, if mention is here duly made of
the principal among these other motley personages.
Happiest and best amongst them all, as delineations
of eccentric specimens of humanity, are, indubitably
co our thinking, Mr. Charles Collins's limning of
good old Dr. LeLeelf, the Versailles Physician, and
of his whimsical factotum Monsieur Morlot—their
relationship to one another, as master and man,
being somewhat akin to that noticeable between
two otherwise very different characters, indeed,
queer old Jackeymo and the immortal Riccabocca!
Madame d'Elmar, an invalid widow, the
aunt of Madeleine, and their faithful attendant,
as bonne or ladies'-maid, Victorine—make up •the
little household in which the heroine is, of course,
the cantral figure. Opposed to their interests,
and to the interests also of Major Trelane, are—
Madame d'Elmar's brother, Captain d'Elmar that
is, and his fortune-hunting associate, Lieutenant
'Tronchet. The haunting, shadowy, spectral
Escaped Convict is here again, in this new story—
as inevitably as in Victor Hugo's " Les Miseiables"
or in Charles Dickens's " Great Expectations."
Here, however, in this minor tale by the younger
novelist, the for cat from the bagne is more, as we
may say, merely hinted at, than actually seen,
He it is, however, who is at the heart of the
plot! He it is who gives rise to the
title of the tale—as the brander upon Made'.
tine's escutcheon of The Bar Sinister ! With-
out attempting to supply any one with the
questionable advantage of a mere broken bit of the
clue guiding the reader through all the intricate
windings of the labyrinth of the plot, we here
prefer rather,by a few illustrative extracts, to afford
our reader, with a view to his becoming thereby
afterwards the reader of " The Bar Sinister," speci-
mens of Mr. Charles Collins's " quality" as the
writer of this tale, but more particularly with specie
merle of his quality in his capacity as a humorist.
Here, then, as our very first quotation to this end,
ake the following delioious morsel of fun, descrip-
ye of—

moNsastrit MORLOT AS AN EQUESTRIAN.
That good gentleman by no means found himself at '
home on the back of a horse. It has been already men-
tioned that the animal selected for Monsieur Morlot's use
had been chosen on account of its quietness, but it soon
appeared that this prepossessing quality was to some ex-
tent counteracted, as good qualities too often are, by a de-
fect of some importance to an unskilful rider ; Mouton
(which in consideration of his lamb-like qualities was this
animal's name) was what is called a rough-goer. He was
also a very broad animal ; and these two characteristics
combined proved somewhat discomposing. to his rider.
Now when a rough-goer and a bad horseman get toge-
ther two results almost invariably follow—the eques-
trian's hat gets shaken down over his ears, and his
unmentionables get worked up over his knees. Mon•
sieur Morlot was no exception to this rule, and when
Trelane looked back after getting clear of the town to see
how his faithful follower was getting on, he was seized
with such a fit of laughter that he was of lilted to pull his
own horse up abruptly, lest ho should absolutely roll off his
back. Monsieur Morlot had no idea of relieving himselt
and his beast by rising in his stirrups, but was riding after
the legitimate cavalry fashion, only with an infinitely
looser seat, so that at every step taken by the docile Mouton
his body was subjected to a shock that threatened to shake
the very teeth out of his head. The effect of this violent
bumping upon the unfortunate man's costume was precisely
what might have been expected. His face was nearly in-
visible, for not only was his hat brought down so completely
over his eyes that it was a matter of grave question whether
it was possible for him to see, but the collar of his coat and
neckcloth had got worked up in so extraordinary a manner
that they almost rubbed against the brim of his hat. It
must be mentioned besides, that the cuffs of Monsieur
INlorlot's coat had suddenly become so long that his hands
were entirely concealed in the sleeves; while his trousers

on the other hand had wriggled themselves up to so remark-
able an extent that his legs, whioh were so emaciated
that there hardly seemed room for the bones, and which

were encased in blue worsted stockings, were visible from
the knee down to the blucher boots, which jingled loosely
in a pair of stirrups which might have been arranged
expressly for the use of Edward Longsbanks of royal
memory.

Afterwards, we are told how—so soon as he could in
any way recover his gravity sufficiently to do so—
Trelano proceeded to give his companion a few hints
on horsemanship, nnd, above all, to initiate him in
the noble art of rising in his stirrups. Monsieur Mor-
lot took to this new invention, as he called it, with
surprising alacrity; indeed, ho experienced such relief
from it, and found that it so materially alleviated the
sufferings which ho had previously endured, that the only
difficulty now was to keep him down, so that what with
the rough movements of Mouton and .Monsieur Morlot's
terror of coming in contact with the saddle, he would some-
times, for a considerable time, be found standing up in his
stirrups altogether, and riding, at a very slow trot, in
the attitude in which our jockeys generally appear as
they pass the grand stand at Epsom.
Here, again, somewhat after the fashion of Leigh
Hunt, is the evidence of cur Eye-witness's f' eye to
the ridiculous" in scanning the contrast presented

to view by--
TIIE LONDON 'BUS A.vD THE PANS 0)INIBVS.
Let the reader, we will suppose for the first time, get
into a London omnibus, and suffer his eye to travel down
the range of faeei on each side cf this exhila-
rating carriage. What an anxious set I what an
overwhelming sense of responsibility is upon them!
what apprehmems about their future or resv;te

about their past are preying upon their minds I I
Now let us turn from this double row of suicidal counten-
ances to the faces which brighten up the Paris ---venicio.
How eager, how observant, how ready fo-
. the enjoyment
of any incidental fun, and—in this so different from the
Britannic humorist, who,
:Lion he is amused, is always
ashamed of it—how ready
to show that they areenjoying
the joke.

Mr. °:.-arles Collins evidently keeps his eye well

pon the alert wherever he goes. Instance, this, his
droll, serio-comic recognition of the vexation some-
time caused to us in the streets, by any chance foot

passenger going at pretty much the same pace, in
pretty much the same direction as one's sell:—
You begin to question this stranger's right to walking
your way. What can he have to do in that neighbourhood ?
What business has ho to adogt your pace ? (it never
occurs to you that he might consider y( u were adopting
his). 'What right has he to wear that particular kind of
coat ? His legs ara aggravating, the back view of his hair
insupportable, his hat a positive insult.
_ .

if our author wants to place a reketion More
one of his characters, in Puris, some fine forenoon,
how appetizing is his description, as follows, of—

A breakfast at the Cattl du Cardinal I What a room to
breakfast in to begin with, what wealth of glass and
marble, and white and gold. How pleasant to untold your
snowy napkin as Sou seat yourself at the little round table,
and take up the unimposing newspaper which savours so
much more of pleasure than business, to turn at once
to the theatrical bill of fare for the evening :
What butter, too; what rolls, what oysters, what
cutlets, what half• bottles of white wine, what coffee
Young France may well (as it does) crowd into this place ;
though where the money comes from with which it feasts
itself so sumptuously twice in the 24 hours is a mystery to
him who writes these pages, and one which he has often
reflected upon with reverent wonder as he chips his mr,ek
egg at the frugal London breakfast table.

Here, however, quite as vigilar.'ls, as in the
Parisian cafd as any where el-
indoors or out of
doors the Eye Witnes. '
.. seeps his weatherseye open
—still with an
The irrit ..,y
part eto the ridiculous! Voici!—
...Die old solitary at the next table to this pleasant
is hard to please, and not agreeable to dine next ; for
oesides trying all the "breads" in the basket before he finds
one to his taste, fingering and pinching them mercilessly in
the process, his ideas as the different u,es of napkins and
pockct-hankerchiefs appear to be in a somewhat con-
fused and undefined condition. He objects, too,
to every dish, and has many of them changed to
suit his palate and his absent teeth. Finally, he
taxes the bill, and has the landlord sent for, and,
underpaying the waiter, leaves that functionary (who will
not stand much nonsense in France), cursing him by his
gods from between his set teeth. It is possible that that
particular waiter's temper has been already a little tried 147
an English traveller who has upset the order of nature by
beginning his dinner with a " bit of fish," taking no soup,
which alone is an unpardonable outrage ; and who, finding
a bifteck, aux 130711111e8 not enough for dinner, and being of
those persons who like to dine off one thing, has ordered
another " to follow."
Whoever can, while reading these fragmentary
quotations, yet preserve an aspect of grim serious.
ness, need turn elsewhere for amusement than to the
pages of " The Bar Sinister." Tolerably certain of
this—by the way--while be does so, that he is un-
blessed with any sense whatever of the humorous.

Pocket Edition of Butler's Iludibras.
Voluwette. Pp. 410. William Tegg.
As charming a httle edition of a great classic
masterpiece as we ever remember to have seen has
just now come to us, in the shape of this reliant,
in a single pocket vo,ume, of the whole of that
world of wit, Samuel Butler's Hudibras. Know.
ing the work itself, as a matter of course,
intimately, we have but to scan it here,
purely and simply as a reprint. And, it is
while viewing it exclusively as such, as a reprint,
that we can speak of it, es we do, thus, upon the
instar.t, in terms expressive of the highest and
completest satisfaction. It is just precisely what
a pocket edition of Hudibras ought to be—strongly,
simply, prettily bound ; gut-edged ; beauti-
fully printed in clear type, on excellent piper ;
having just a sufficiency, and no more, of terse,
apt footnotes; ten pages in length of a memoir of
Butler; a capital likeness of him as a frontispiece ;
and—sprinkled timugh the book among the letter-
press—those famous old woodcut embellishments
that, if we remember rightly, were first employed as
illustrations to " lluclibras" at the Chiswick Press
by Charles Wittingham. By placing within reach
of the public generally this new issue of Butler's
masterpiece, Mr. Teg has done a good service to
all those English readers who are in any way
capable of appreciating one of the wittiest books in
our language.

One

DEATH OF " MANHATTAN."—The well-known
New York correspondent of the Herald and
Standard, whose letters have been read for nearly three
years with unflagging interest, died suddenly on June 25,
while President Lincoln was deliberating whether he
should be imprisoned in Fort Lafayette or banished to the
Confederate States. It is not improbable that the excite.
ment caused by his arrest, and anxiety for.the fate of his
wife and only child, a daughter whom he tenderly loved,
may have produced that fatal catastrophe. Joseph A.
Scovilie, known here as "Manhattan," and in America by
the nom de plume of " Walter Barrett, Clerk," was born
in Connecticut in 1811, and bred to commercial pursuits
in one of the largest shipping houses in New York. At
the close of his apprenticeship ho formed a partnership
with another young New Englander, under the title of
Scoville and Britton, and embarked adventurously in foreign
commerce. Their ship had made but few voyages when a
commercial crisis, such as America had been periodically
subjected to, caused the failure of the young firm, and Mr
Scoville resorted to literature and politics. He was con•
nected with several papers as publisner or contributor, and
though wanting in education, his extensive acquaintance
with men, travel, retentive memory, and impulsiveness of
character, made him an interesting writer. Though dealing
largely in broad humour, persiflage, and exaggeration, he
was at times profound, eloquent, and even political in
feeling and expression. Mr Scoville was a State Rights
Democrat; for some years the amanuensis or private
secretary of the greatest American statesman of his day,
John C. Calhoun, of South Carol na. There could be no
batter testimony to the real worth of his character than the
fact that ho was tru-eed and loved by suca a man. He
wrote some of Mr Calhoun's latest works at his dictation
and was with him until his death. He aftet wards married
a relative of the deceased statesman. \V ith such a political
education and associations he could not be otherwise than
a friend of the South. He had no expression strong enough
for the contempt he felt for the Republican party and its
proper chief, Abraham Lincoln, and the corrupt crew
gorged upon the spoils of war and the plunder of the
Northern people. If he professed to be a tied in man, he
did not hesitate to say that he preferred Jefferson Davis
to Abraham Lincoln as the President of the Union.
If in his letters he reflected the hopes of the North,
and the feelings around him, it was never difficult to read
his own feelings—and reckless as he has sometimes seemed
in his statements, his letters have been on the whole more
truthful than Federal dispatches. Some allowance must
be made for his position. He could not say what he wished,
nor serve openly the cause he had at heart, but he managed
while he lived, in spite of Federal tyranny, and with Fort
Lafayette in sight, to do that cause good service. Mr,
Scoville was generous to a fault. No man ever asked his
aid in vain if he had power to help him. He had known
misfortune and poverty, and sympathised with the dis-
tressed. His good qualities had made him many friends
For two years before his death he held the honourable ap.
pointment of reader to the Common Council of New York;
and it was a matter of considerable doubt whether President
Lincoln, even at the instance of General Dix, and after a
full examination of the treasonable correspondence of
"Manhattan," would have cared to put that body to thd
trouble of selecting a new reader. We have no disposition
to ignore the literary faults of the letters of " Manhattan"
eannecirtgheeticaulathboourros havef‘‘ila been brought but it is proper, when his
to a sudden close by
the hand of death, that we should give him credit for his
merits and demerits.—The Index.
HONOURS TO ENGLISH SURGERY.—The King of
the Belgians, having now passed 13 months in ease
and comfort, has been pleased to confer upon Mr. Henry
Thompson, of London, to whom he owes his cure, and whom
he has rewarded by the munificent fee of 44,000, the fur-
ther distinction of nominating him Officer of the Order of
Leopold, and Surgeon-Extraordinary to his Majesty. Tlre
is a just and well earned honour. The King is in excellent
health, can take all sorts of exercise freely, all symptoms
of malady have disappeared. The case, as is well known,
was one of great difficulty and responsibility, and it was
also known thr ughout Europe that M. Civialo, of Paris,
and the distinguished G amen surgeon Langenbeek had
each been specially summoned previously, and, after patient
endeavours, had been Ip.ffied in their labours, and had
failed to effect a cure. Thus, when the skill of Mr Henry
Thompson succeeded in relievhsg the King from his suffer-
ing, and removing his immediate cause, the honours which
he won were relleeted in some degree upon the English
school of surgery which he represented, and Mr Thompson
will assuredly receive cordial and general congratulation
upon the marks of esteem which King Leopold now
bestows neon him.—The Lancet.
THE NeWelaF.NDOite I.3E.EVOI,ENT AND PROVI
DENT INSTITUTION.—Mr Alderman Lusk has engaged to
take the chair at the annual festival of this institution, to
be held at the Freemasons' Tavern on the 10th hest,