The Sun.
London, England, 1864-12-14 00:00:00

William had nothing to do with the matters which the
jury had to try. In reply to Sergeant Armstrong's obser.
vation that all the statements of the plaintiff would be
proved in evidence, Sergeant Sullivan said that at the
proper time the defendant would show that the charges
were untrue.
Sergeant Armstrong, in reply said that the libellous letter
was justified on the ground that the plaintiff had "made
scandalous charges against Sir William Wilde, which were
not founded on truth." He (Sergeant Armstrong) had a
right to go into the whole ease, and to show that the plain-
tiff's pamphlet "charged, not an intrigue, but an intent of
a very different kind "—and as regards the demand for
money, he wished to let them see that Sir William Wilde
was the person forcing the money on her, instead of her ap-
plyinis to him .
Sergeant Sullivan—l do not mean to say that you are not
to show that the defences arc untrue, but what I say is, that
the plaintiff comes here cha,ging Lady Wilds with libelling'
her by a charge of unchasti y, and she now comes whh this
case that, she is unchaste.
Sergeant Armstrong—If she was violated by Wilde in his
private study, and refuses to receive any more of his licen-
tious embraces, is she to be branded as a prestitutc ?
Chief Justice Monahan—l cannot stop the case for the
plaintiff,

Sergeant Sullivan—Very wall, my lord. After the lad I
obseryations of hergeant Armstrong, he may go on.
Some further conversation having ensued,
Sergeant Armstrong went on with his statement. He
read a number of letters to show the progress of the ac-
queintanceship between Sir William Wilde and the plaintiff.
So long ago as 1859 Sir Wiliam used to criticise Miss Tra-
vers's dress, saying he did not like a bonnet, or something
of that kind; and he was accustomed to give her small
sums of money, which the plaintiff took as loans to supply
her with dress befitting her position. There wore a vast
number of letters written from Sir William Wilde to the
lady. One of them referred to a burn which she had in
her neck, and another to the paring of a corn, and others
were written in a half-fatherly, half-quizzing style, The
male defendant is over fifty years of age. However, as
Sergeant Armstrong stated, Miss Travers had her suspicions
aroused in the winter of 1861. In the October of that year,
so the learned gentleman proceeded to say, " there was
a distribution of premiums for the Queen's University,
in St. Patrick's Hall, Dublin Castle, and Miss Travers
was there with Dr Wilde; he asked her to go and escorted
her home. Well, the next day he met her in Westland-row,
and he said to her, in a very marked way, ' Did you observe
anything yesterday?' She said, ' I did not," Did you no-
tice my cart iage, as we were coming along the street, com-
ing after us ?" I did not.' I will not repeat the identical
words he used. She will give them herself; tut the sub.
stance was that they had been watched by Mrs Wilde in
that carriage, and in fact that Mrs Wilde was, in her own
mind, distrustful of what was going on. From the lips of
Dr Wilde himself Miss Travers first heard of such a cir-
cumstance. She unquestionably was a little alarmed, and
it struck her that she should be more circumspect; but he
made as light of it when he saw the effect it had on her as
possible, and he gave her a hook, He said to her, Look in
that book and you will understand what I mean.' She took
the book, and found it contained a letter asking her to see
him at the hospital he was professionally attending, but she
did not go. She saw him shortly afterwards, when he asked
her did she want money, but she said not; she wanted to
have his 'reference to Lady Wilde' cleared up. She gave
him to understand that unless this were done all acquaint-
ance between them must cease. He wrote to her—" Don't
be angry, lam sick, I assure you, I will leave the money
for you, £6 10s, at Shaidan'e" (this was a shop where
parcels wore left in the ordinary course), at about 11 o'clock.
Yuu will make me curse you if you don't take it." After-
wards he explained that in speaking as he had done he had
been only joking, and asked her to come and dine with Lady
Wilde and the family, and she did go. Matters went on till
February, 1862, when ono day, as he was examining her ear
in his study, "she was amazed and confounded when, most
suddenly, he clasped her in his arms, and refused to re-
lease her till she had promised to call him William." " I
will not let you go," says he, " till you promise to call me
William." He said he would detain her till she said,
"Please, William, let me go;" but the refused, and got
away from the house. He then wrote letters to her,
which she returned to him unopened. The drift of them,
when it was ascertained, was that she should " not be
making mountains out of mole-hills," and that the clasping
of her in his aims meant no harm, and that it was unjust
for her to harbour any suspicion against him ; and he also
talked about being miserable, fretting about Miss Travers,
and more to that effect. She felt it necessary to see Sir
William Wilde about a letter which had been opened, as
she thought, before it reached her, and he also invited her
to the house to see one of his children. Subsequently Sir
William Wilde " supplied her with some money to go to
Australia, and a ticket was taken at Dublin ;" but when
she:went to Liverpool to embark there was some difficulty
about her berth, and she returned.
Omitting a great deal of counsel's statement—omitting
all about the, little letters that Sir William wrote to her, the
dresses he bought fur her, and Lady Wilde's " petulant
remark," on one occasion, when she asked Miss Travers,
"where do you want to take my husband to now ?''—one
must hasten to the most startling part of Sergeant Arm-
strong's speech—" On Thursday, Oct. 11, 1862, Miss Tra-
vers, in obedience to an invitation she received from him,
waited on him in his study. She was there about half-past
one o'clock. Ho made no allusion to any previous coaver-
sation in reference to the publication in the letter or any-
thing else, but he at all events expressed great concern about
the mark of a burn which she had across her throat. He
removed her bonnet for the purpose apparently of looking
at her throat, She was in the habit of concealing that
slight defect by wearing a necklet of black velvet, and he
put his hand into it, with his knuckles next her
throat, fastening his knuckles in the velvet band. He
pressed against her very tightly, so forcibly that she said,
You are suffocating:me." I will,' said he, 'suffocate you,
I cannot help it.' Gentlemen, I will leave it to herself to
tell you what followed. But I will tell you what ho said
after e% hat followed. I felt it my duty to be most particular
in ascertaining what she was prepared to swear as to that
interview and the assault upon her. The next thing, gen-
tlemen, after the horrible consternation and agitation into
which she was thrown—the next thing, when she recovered
consciousness, was this; she found him throwing cold
water on her face. He was opposite to her, with a tumbler
of water in his hand. He cried to her Oh, don't close your
eyes ; look up once more. He always had a little wino in his
study. Ha held wine to her lips. She was in that state her
mouth was tightly compressed in the agitation of the occasion.
He could not get her mouth opened, He then sponged her
face with water, and what did he say I wish the devil or
the angel Gabriel would make her open her mouth. (Laugh-
ter.) He said, Rise, I beseech you, for my preservation
and your own.' He shook her. lie begged her not to stare
so wildly at him. Speak one word,' he cried, ' speak one
word, for God's sake. I know,' said he, lam a ruffian—
but it was not premeditated.' Gentlemen, on hearing
those extraordinary and frightful expressions, she at-
tempted to rise from where she was. He offered' her
wine again, but her teeth were still clenched, and he said,
' I will pour the wine on you if you won't take it. lam
horribly frightened,' he said, ' and you must make me a
promise. Have sense, or the first person you meet you
will tell, and it will be ruin. ram in your power and you
are in mine. Do, for once in your life, do what I tell you
—keep secret, and all will be well. I know all you could say
—but, oh I spare me. I am in your power. Stab me if you
like. I know you hate me, I sometimes wish to God I
could hate. I swore I would never touch your hand again.
I struggled against fate, whilst you thought you were run-
ning away from me. I struggled against the fate that was
hurrying me on when you thought you were escaping.
Don't prove yourself a mad woman now, but attend to what
I tell you, I must be obeyed. Hive faith and confidence
in me, and you may remedy the past Australian freak and
the talk it has given rise to. It led to a great deal of talk.
You would be surprised to hear all that was said about it. It
you destroy me, you injure yourself for ever. If you knew
all the mischief you would do to yourself, you would be glad
to follow my advice now. Promise to be quiet for a few
days. Keep up appearances for my salvation and your
own. I fear I cannot trust you out of my sight for tear
you will do yourself and me irreparable mischief."
The remainder of the learned counsel's statement referred
to the young lady's despair, the efforts of Sir William to
keep her quiet, and his pressing upon her money, &c.,
which she on every occasion returned. The letters of Sir
William Wilde, after the affair in the study, were occasion-
ally of a very melancholy character, and at other times
rhapsodical in their protestations of friendship.
The 'named counsel had not concluded when the Court
adjourned last evening.

LUBLIN, Tuesday Night.
This morning Sergeant Armstrong concluded his address
for the plaintiff.
Miss Travers was then called and examined. She de-
posed to the outrage upon her by defendant in his study,
as described by counsel in the opening speech. She was
still under examination when the Court rose.

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT—This Day.

- - ~-

OLD COURT.
(Before Mr Baron Pigott.)
THE MURDER IN CLERKENWELL.

Alfred Thomas Jackson, aged 21, a working jeweller, was
placed of the bar charged with the wilful murder of Francis
Plowden Roberts, an apprentice to Mr French, wholesale
jeweller, Newcistic-place, Clerkenwell. The prisoner was
also indicted on the Coroner's inquisition. The prisoner
appeared deeply affected.
At the close of the case for the prosecution,
_ _

Mr Sleigh then proceeded to address the jury for the
prisoner. He contended that it was a ease of mistaken
identity. Further, that if the prisoner was, in their opinion,
the person who inflicted the wounds, a quarrel had taken
place between the two young men, and that the blows were
inflicted in hot blood, the crime was then reduced to
manslaughter.

A number of witnesses were called, who gave the prisoner
a most excellent character.

The jury returned a verdict of manslaughter, and the
team, d Judge sentenced the prisoner to penal servitude

for lie,

CRYSTAL PALACE,—ONE SHILLING DAY,—Yes•
terday the admissions on payment were C 54; ditto by
season tickets, 818—total, 142,

Funeral of K Mocquard,

Subjoined are the orations pronounced over the
grave of M. Mocquard by Marshal Valliant and M.
de la Guerroniere at the funeral on Monday :mt.
The former spoke as follows :
" The Minister of the Emperor's Household cannot re-
main silent before this tomb, which has just received one of
the oldest, one of the most constant and most useful ser-
vants of the Emperor and the empire. In view of the great
events which have already illustrated a great reign, grati-
tude and admiration each day bring forth new and sincere
instances of devotedness. The devotion of M. Mocquard
had taken precedence of all these. Its origin is to be traced
to the first days of youth, and, far from being exhaustO
by its duration, strengthened, on the contrary, by time
it will remain as an example of unalterable attachmen,
and historical fidelity. Is not, in fret, the name ce
M, Mocquard the most complete personification of
fidelity to us all? Fidelity was his creed, his rile
giorn the worship ( f his whole life. He practised it
with ardour, with energy, without any personal preoccupa.
pation, and without any other ambition than that cf adding
to the glory of his sovereign and the greatness( f his coun-
try. Like another, better than another, he could aspire, no
doubt, to fulfil high public duties in the Government; but
faithful to his confidential post, he exalted himself by keep •
ing it. Other voices less affected than my own will, here or
elsewhere, render homage to sound merit, to profound learn-
ing, to a charming wind, to a character at once amiable and
serious. At this time, at this place, I only wished to re-
member the qualities of a noble heart in bringing to him
who is no more the last farewell of the well-beloved sove-
reign from whom on hie bed of death he but now received
the last embrace. Adieu, Mocquard I We weep for thee
in envying thee. The sweetest consolation has been given
to your family; the most precious tribute has been paid to
your memory—the Emperor has said to your children, ' He
was my friend.'"
This oration, pronounced in a voice choked with
sobs, produced a great impression on all around
the tomb. M. de la Guerroniere, senator, then
spoke as follows :
" Gentlemen, I have received the painful mission of
bringing to this tomb the expression of my colleagues' re-
grets. In order to impart to them an accent more worthy
of the sympathies of the Senate and of the eminent man
who is their object, I have only to associate them with the
noble grief which descends on this coffia from the throne
as a continuation of the friendship which, after having
honoured the life of M. Mocquard, piously attaches itself to
his memory. The Emperor now weeps as a friend the faith-
ful servant whom he has so long treated as a confidant of
his thoughts ; and I have the right to say that these tears
of a sovereign are still more precious than his favours. In
the intimacy of supremo power there is a privilege more
rare than that of gaining the confidence of him whom one
serves—it is that of partaking of his heart, said of leaving
a great blank after having merited a high fortune. M.
Mocquard has but barely passed through the ranks of the
Senate. 'We had scarcely time to see him there when the
nature of the duties which he fulfilled, and which made
reserve the first duty of his political conduct, did not allow
us to hear that voice which eminent successes at the bar
seemed to have destined for Parliamentary contests. But
if his presence amongst us was not made known:by his par-
ticipation in our debates, it had none the less a great signi-
ficance. This dignity of a senator, which the Emperor ac-
corded to him when public opinion had already marked
him out for it, was not only the consummation of a career
which, before it was devoted to the service of the State,had
been so deeply shaken by all the agitations of our contem-
porary events ; it was also the consecration of quite an order
of ideas and sentiments which characterise him whose loss
we deplore. What, in fact, does M. Mocquard represent in
the diverse phases of this long life which has ended too
quickly ? He represents, gentlemen, three great things :
devotion to a noble cause, patriotism of which it is the in-
spiration, and political spirit of which it is the moderator.
At an epoch still near to us in point of time, although it is
already far removed by events, when the First Empire was
only an heroic souvenir, end when the Second seemed only
a generous illusion, M. Mocquard was one of that small
group of men who had preserved their political faith as a
religion. All was against them—facts, opinion, fortune,
and that future, which we have seen to develop since in a
manner so sudden and so providential, did not even appear
on the horia en as a hope, They had the honour to be the
first, almost the only ones, and, through all trials, with a
confidence which nothing could shake, they waited the day
when they saw themselves supported by eight millions of
suffrages. Amidst this isolation, of which men like AI.
Moequard have so nobly accepted the disgrace, there was,
however, a latent force which sustained them, and which
connected thorn wills an entire change of opinion, the source
of which was in the patriotic impulse of a great people, but
the final result of which was hidden behind the veil of the
future. What was Bonapartism before it became a Go-
vernment ? It was the memory of our glory, and the
protest of the natiunal conscience against the hum liation
of our disasters. It was an :aspiration ill•defined, but ac-
tive, powerful, anxious, irresistible towards a political
situation more worthy of our history of fourteen centu-
ries, and of the greatness which unceasingly nourishes
and enlarges the magnificent movement of civilisation
and progress of which the imperishable date 1788 gave
the signal. These aspirations are realised, and it
was reserved to M. Moequard to be associated more
intimately than any other person with the acts of this
policy, the triumph of which he had foreseen. Here his
part changed, and his militant habits gave way to very dif-
ferent duties. The companion of the exile, the man of
action, he, who had quitted an official position the more
freely to convey his homage and his counsels to miafor tune,
became the intimate confidant of the prince to whom the
will of France gave the throne which foreign force alone
had wrested from the founder of his dynasty. It does not
behove me to retrace here all the tact, propriety, persever-
ance, enlightened devotion, modest discretion, and active
vigilance which the chief of the Emperor's cabinet has
displayed in this mission so difficult and important, which
placed him so near to the mind of the Sovereign, and which
could cause his legitimate influence to be felt in the councils
of the Government from so high a position. He pretended
nothing. He effaced himself systematically, his devotion
absorbed his personality. He was one of those who possess
the privilege of penetrating into the imperial intimacy, open
to him at all times; more than any person he lived in that
elevated region on which the regards of the world are fixed,
and from which proceed so many decisive impulses. Well,
when he lett this region it was to resume his simple and
affable manners. Casting from him all importance, he did
not assume superiority over any person, in order to be more
on a level with all those whose wishes he listened to, and
who confided to him their ideas, their interests, and even
their ambitions. A distinctive trait of his nature, and which
characterises the manner in which he fulfilled his duties,
is that lie never took up the suhject without the de-
sire of doing good. When he could be useful he was anxious
and ardent; but if it was necessary to speak ill of any per-
son, if he had to make his sovereign acquainted with those
studied malevolences, those veiled calumnies, those envious
disparagements which seek to surprise or to deceive the
good faith of Powers he was dumb, and his cold and digni-
fied attitude disconcerted those intrigues, which he never
favoured. Such is the man, gentlemen, whom the Empe-
ror placed amongst us as a personification of that patriotism
which honours public life, and of that moderation which
restrains its impulses. Nature had endowed him with her
most amiable gifts. She had bestowed on him personal
graces, a great power of expression, an exquisite taste in
literary matters, and that temperance which, in imposing
moderation on the mind, imparts to it more vigour. His
intelligence, formed and nourished in the study of the in-
comparable models of the true and the good, was not
applied to those conceptions which reflect literary re-
nown on a name, He concentrated it, he meditated
on it, and in order that he might more completely devote
himself, he in some sort renounced his personal elevation.
What more striking example can there be of all that is
noble in a devotion so loyally inspired, and in an ambition
governed by duty ? M. Mocquard lived more happily, more
satisfied, than if he had been more powerful; and at this
supreme moment ho is as much honoured as if he had filled
the highest offices of the State. This procession, this
numerous attendance, this homage, this emotion by which
we are all oppressed—the presence of these illustrious per-
sons, the eloquent voice of the Minister of the Emperor
which we have heard—does not all this tell you that which
most elevates a man is his character, and not his official
position ? That which best concludes such a life would
have been wanting if ho had not been attached to those
sublime truths which purify the soul in raising it to God.
Yes, I say it with a deep feeling of consolation and hope—
in this nature, the graceful and frivolous outward part of
which seemed apparently to cover a sort of scepticism, there
was yet that spark of sacred fire which never permits 'spin-
tual beliefs to extinguish themselves. This was well seen
at that last hour when an Illustrious priest went to receive
his last confidential communications. His first word, ut-
tered before his family, was a protest against this odious
materialism,- which vainly tries to overtake) in us the
Divine principle of immortality. This was an act of faith
which fortified him against death, and which ho has left as
a consolation to his family. And when the venerable
curate of the Madeleine administered to him the last con-
solations of religion his mind still recovered its energy
amidst agonising sufferings, and applauded this grand
thought of the greatest of Christian orators, of the writer
whom he admired the most, perhaps—of Bossuet, thus
branding the believers in Atheism : They see nothing,
they understand nothing; they even have not the means
of establishing the nullity which they hope for after this
life, and thin miserable portion is not assured to them. M.
Mocquard has understood this, gentlemen,—there is some.
(hing grander than living as a philosopher : it is to die as
a Christian."

PRIVATE BILLS FOR NEXT SESSION.--Tomorrow
(Thursday) is the last day for serving notices on the
owners, lessees, and occupiers of property required by the
promoters of private bills. Monday, however, was the
latest day for posting letters to the persons referred to, and
the number of registered letters sent on that day is said to
have been very large, Each letter cost 7d, and contained a
form to be filled up and returned, stating whether the per:
son addressed aseents or dissents. or is merely "neuter. '
A list of the forms returned will be afterwards made up, and
submitted to the House of commons, ;

SPORTING INTELLIGENCE.

EALING STE
`Weights for the Middlesex I

?,PLECHASES.
andicap. Three miles and a
tlf,

at lb
Serious Case l2 7
Ironsides
Portland ll 10
Sly Fox ll 7
Globule
Dobbyn
Premier
Gorsehawk
Piggy Wiggy ..
Bravo ll 2
Fenton
Ivanla6ll . ll 0

s lb
The Rogue
Yeller Gal
Shuttlecock
Aga
Old 5quire,....,..., 10 7
Bracknell
Little Dick
Attaman .. lO 7
Overton
Aggressor
Ned of the li'lls , lO 0

RACING FIXTURES FOR 1865.

JANUARY.

Manchester 2
FE BRUA It Y.

Lincoln spring..... Nottingham Spring 28

Derby Spring 2
Liverpool Spring
Shrewsbury Spring

L C:I.

Northampton 4
Croxton Park 7
Durham l7
Newmarket Craven 17

Newmarket Ist Spring 1
Chester ..
York Spring
Ju

Epsom Summer (con.) 1
Manchester 7
Ascot ..
Alexandra Park 2O
Ju

Newmarket July
Carliele
Pontefract
AUG

Huntingdon
Reading
Egham
Oxford ..... ... 17
York August
SEPTE

Doncaster Spring
Warwick Spring
Chelmsford Spring

Catterick Bridge ...
Thirsk
Epsom Spring .

LY.
Salisbury
Bath
Epsom inuanier .
Hampton
Newton
Newcastle
Worcester Summer
,Y.
Nottingham Summer
Chesterfield
Goodwood

UST.
Plymouth
Liehfie:d .
Devon and Exeter....
IDerby Summer
Weymouth
:MBER.

Rich.nond ....
Monmouth
Manchester Autumn ~ 22
Newmarket Ist October 26

Weymouth (continued) 1
Leicester 7
Doncaster
Brecon
OCTOBER

Northallorton 5 Newmarket Houghton.. 23
Newmarket Second Oct 9 I Worcester Autumn .... 31

NOVEMBER.
Worcester Autumn (continued) 1

WRIGHT'S RACING RECORD for the year now
speedily drawing to a close, has just been issued.
It is the most perfect guide to the turf that has ever
emanated from the press. The present issue is a great im-
provement on former editions, having been compressed into
nearly half the size, although containing more useful infor-
mation to sporting men than formerly. Besides the win-
ners of every race for the year 1804, the present volume
contains all the closed nominations for 1805-0 ; Grand
National Steeple Chase Rules ; rules concerning horse
racing; New Laws of Betting; Lengths of Courses ; Win-
ning Jockeys in 185 f, and an alphabetical List of Jockeys
and Trainers in England, Ireland, and France. The price
is only 2s Gd, and we hope that the Messrs. 'Wright will
bo amply rewarded for their exertions in supplyingthe pub-
lic with a want long felt on the turf, No sporting man
ought to be without a copy.

AQUATICS,

GREAT ROWING MATCH FOR £2OO.

A smilers' race for £2OO took place yesterday between
David Coombes, son of the celebrated Robert Coombes, the
ex-champion of the Thames, and Frank Kilsby, from Put-
ney to Mortlake.
The race was one of much importance in a sporting point
of view; the amount of speculation it had given rise to at
Tattersall's and elsewhere, and the fact that the backers of
the men were well-known gentlemen upon the turf, com-

bined with other circumstances to invest this match with
an amount of interest not ordinarily falling to the lot of
seullers' races upon the Thames, which was amply demon-
strated by the amount of money depending upon the issue
and the vast assemblage of the spectators.
The prestige attached to the name of Robert Coombes has
been, up to this time, well maintained by his son, whoWh6
the triumphant actor in the scene of yesterday, considering
his youth, as he, like his opponent, has not numbered more
than 22 summers. Besides other races, he won, while an
apprentice, the Thames National coat and badge, and the
City of London similar prize, to which was added, when
just out of the indentures, Doggett's coat and badge last
August.

Kilsby, independent of other races, has successfully con.
tended twice against May, and three times against Spencer,
end against Wise and Biffen. He also rowed in the Doggett's
coat and Ledge race last August, and it was from that event
that the present match emanated ; for although Coombes,
we have before stated, was the winner by 10 lengths, it was
considered that he had been advantaged in the early part of
the contest by fortuitous circumstances, and that Kilsby,
who rowed second to him, would, under a more favourable
state of things, very likely have carried off the much-
envied award of victory.

Both men were put into training two months before the
race—Kilsby at Mr Salter's, the Feathers, Wandsworth,
and Coombes with Harry Kelly, the ex-champion, at the
Belle, Putney ; and both made as much progress as their
most ardent admirers could wish until Friday last, when
Kilsby unfortunately caught a cold, which settled in his
throat, and although every attention was paid to him, still
he came to the post with a bad ulcerated sore throat, al-
though in every other respect he was in splendid condition.
This considerably altered the state of the odds, which,
having before been slightly on Coombes, now became 7 to
4 and 2to lon him. Kilsby came to the scratch at lOst,
and Coombes at Sst 101 b, being in the most perfect form.
So much interest had been imported into the race, that six
steamboats, besides several tugs, were densely crowded, as
were also the towing path and sporting houses along the
river bank.

Citizen P conveyed the officials—Mr Charles Newnham
acting as referee, George Hammerton umpire for Coombes,
and Mr Salter for Kilsby. Harry Kelly showed in the head
of Coombes' cutter, and George Drewitt in that of Kilaby.
At 10 minutes past two they went to their stations, Kilaby
winning the toss, and in a few moments they were off to a
level start. Kilsby had the lead a moment afterwards, row-
ing a long steady stroke ; but Coombes, although somewhat
flurried, had caught him at the Star and Garter; and even
thus early Kilsby showed signs of distress, while Coon.bes,
on the contrary, was pulling away with the utmost game
and confidence. Just beyond this Coombes led by half a
length, and then Kilsby putting on a spurt, came up nearly
level, and they rowed an interesting race nearly mid-stream,
as a tug persistently drove them out. When clear of this,
Coombes again led by half a length, and continued to draw
in front till the Bishop's Creek (half a mile), where Coombes
came more into the direct course, and in doing so nearly
fouled. Kilsby put on a spurt at the same moment, and
Coombes wisely rowed out , while Kilaby, also pulling his
left, fouled Coombes' stern, and both claimed the foul.
Kilsby stopping a second, Coombes drew clear, and then in
the easiest possible manner began to leave his opponent be•
hind, and at the Crab Tree led by three lengths. Between
there and the bridge Kilsby pulled very pluckily, and re-
covered a little, but under Hammersmith bridge there were
four lengths between them, and Coombes was going still
further ahead without the least effort. Through Corney
Reach he exhibited in his fine spurts all the old form of Ws
father. At Barnes-bridge there were eight or ten lengths
between them, and Coombes reached the Ship at Mortlake
winner by 200 yards. Time, 25 min. 15 sec.

MORMON TEMPLE AND TABERNACLE.—A core
respondent of the St. Louis .Republican, writing
from Great Salt Lake City, gives the following description
of the projected Mormon temple and tabernacle :—" That
which strikes every observer of the temple is the remarkable
solidity of the stone work. It appears to be laid there to
remain a thousand years. furnishing an unyielding support
to the building that is to rest upon it, I saw an outside view
of the upper portion. The style of architecture is somewhat
novel. The ti out view shows three towers, the centre m ore
elevated than those at the side. The rear end presents a
view of three towers also, the side walls being strengthened
with powerful abutments covered with pinnacles. The walls
are lofty, and the entire air of the building, as represented
in the view I saw, is imposing. There is no excess of orna-
ment. All is substantial, dignified, and impressive, The
building is not for tho use of the congregations of the
people, but for the priestly ordinances of the church. The
people in their assemblages will meet in another building
in the rear—the tabernacle. This is projected on a largo
scale, and on a vary peculiar design. It is to be an oval
building. I was told that the interior would cotrespond
to the shape of an egg. At present 52 massive abutments
of solid masonry, lOft by 4ft, shoW the exterior line of the
structure. From the top of these abutments the oval roof
will spring. The floor will be oval downwards, seated
ewl
oi tshe rigb us
ii
Intwsael al
st
.s a amphitheatre.
sArthebuiiding
i.s nTtheenrdee ifl
ol
rbe no
vast
congregations, ventilation and light are looked to, and
the building will be nearly all windows and dcors.
It covers a space of 225 ft deep by l7sft wide, and is calcu-
lated to hold 10,000 people. Here the teachers and elders
will enlighten the people, and their united souls will go up,
Tho cost of these buildings must be immense ; but all is
contributed by the members of the Mormon church in
labour and money. Their system of tithing is adequate to
the work. When I asked, ' What is the estimated cost of
the temple and tabernacle ?' I was inform ed with a smile,
We do not calculate things in that way. When it is de-
cided to do anything among us, it is done without a calcu-
lation of cost, each doing his part.' lam informed that
President Young himself is the superintendent and actual
architect of the buildings. Every stone in them ho has
inspected and measured with a tape-line and assigned lo its
place."