The Sun.
London, England, 1863-12-12 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, SATURDAY EVENING, DECEMBER 12, 1863.

ing,
Gtheoo2dlwstion. I showed of Auguts, at
him n
20 minutes
and ms Goodwin teatosiisx, askedGanodw2 ii for
Miss met
him at the drawing-room door and theywent into the garden.
Half an hour after I went into the garden and found them
sitting on a seat a short distance from the house, I told Miss
Goodwin she was wanted, and she came to the house and
remained there till a quarter to seven, when she went out
again. I went out at a quarter past seven and found her again
sitting on the seat with the prisoner. I told her tea was
ready, and she said "I am coming directly." I left her,
but she never returned alive. I had seen him before. His
manner was like that of other people, and was not different
on the 21st from what it bad been at other times.

---- ---
Thomas Biddulph—On the night of the 21st--
of August I
was coming up the Wigwell-hill-lane, about half-past 8.
On getting to the top of the lane, where it opens into the
turnpike-road, I
saw a Man and woman walking together
towards Wigwell-hall. The wntaan was Miss Goodwin.
After passing them I looked back, and saw she had turned
round in front of the gentleman with her back to the hall.
'
Reuben Conveay—l work for Mr, Bowmer, who lives just
opposite the hall. On Friday night, betweenS
and 9
o clock,
as I was going along the turnpike-road from the
hall towards the Wigwell-lane end I heard a moaning
noise, which appeared to come from the direction of the
Mill-lane end. I ran forward, and found Miss Goodwin
guiding herself by the wall and coming towards the hall.
lier face and the ftntit of her dress were covered with blood.
She asked me to take her home, and said there was a
gentleman down there had been murdering her. I put
my arm round her and carried her about 20 yards. She
asked me whether I could see anyone, and on looking
down the road I saw the prisoner 60 or 80 yards below
towards the lane end, and nearer the lane end than the
place where the blood was afterwards found. He war cross-
ing the road, and then came towards me. When I first saw
him, he was about 40 yards from the hunting gate. As he
came up, I went towards him, and asked him who had
been murdering Miss Goodwin. He said he had stabbed
her. I asked him to go and help me, and he took hold of
her head and 1 of her body, and we carried her towards
Wigwell. He called her "Poor Bessie" several times, and
said. "You should not have proved false to me." She said
nothing then. We laid her down near a gate, and prisoner
asked me for something to put round her neck to stop the
bleeding. I said I had nothing, and he asked me to go for
help. 1 asked him if he would stop with her, mud Le aattl he
would. I went to Mr. Bowmer's yard for help, leaving the
prisoner with Miss Goodwin, I was away about four or five
minutes, and on coming back found the prisoner holding
something round her neck. I asked if she was living, and
he said she was. She said, " Take me home." We then
carried her a short distance further until Mr. Seeds and his
brother came up. Mr. Seeds asked who had done it. The
prisoner said " I have done it." We then carried her further,
and met James Conway, who also asked who had done it.
The prisoner said, " I know, and he knows ; I am the man
who did it, and I shall be hanged for it." Miss Goodwin
then said she was dying. We carried her further, and met
Mr. Bowmer, who also wanted to know who had done it.
The prisoner said " I have done it, there is no question at
all abou. that." After going a little further he said he was
afraid she was dead, and bent down and kissed her. She
was dead. We met Captain Goodwin and Ann Poyser, the
housekeeper, just within the hall gates. Captain Goodwin
asked what we had amiss, and the prisoner answered, " It
is your granddaughter Betsy, murdered," Capt. Goodwin
wanted to know who had done it. The prisoner said, " I
have done it ;" and on the captain asking who he was, said
"My name is George Townley." The body was taken into
the kitchen and put on the floor. Captain Goodwin then
asked the prisoner what made him do it. He answered—
" She has deceived me ; and the woman that deceives me
must die." He then went into the drawing-room with
Captain Goodwin.

Ann Poyser, the housekeeper, corroborated the last part
of the preceding witness's evidence.

Dr. Newton Mant —I was called in to Wigwell-hall on
the Friday evening., and found Miss Goodwin dead, There
were three wounds on the right side of the neck, one a stab
behind and below the right ear ; the second a stab in front
of this, superficial ; the third wound still further in front,
three inches long, and extending nearly to the chin. The
back part of this wound appeared to have been produced by
a stab directed downwards and backwards. The external
carotid artery and the internal jugular vein were severed.
These were severed by the third wound. The first wound
was probably given
,from behind and was not mortal. I
should have thought that a person could not have walked
after receiving the third wound. The knife produced (an
ordinary clasp :knife, found on the prisoner) would have
caused the wounds. I saw the prisoner that night. He
ap-
peared to be perfectly calm.
Cross-examined--I was with him 10 or 15 minutes in the
drawing room. There was much blood upon him.
Capt. Goodwin---(This witness, who is 84 years of age,
appeared to be somewhat infirm, but spoke with a strong
clear voice.) After stating what took place at the gate—
which has been already given—the witness, who was much
moved, continued—After saying that the woman who de-
ceived him must die, the prisoner said, " I told her I would
kill her. She knew my temper." Be also said, "I had the
means two months ago, and I have the means at the present
time." I observed he had money in his hand. I declined
to take anything. He then produced two packets of letters.
He gave them to me and said, " Will you take care of
these You may read them, burn them, or do what you like
with them. I don't wish these to be brought into court."
I kept them for a few days, and then threw them all into
the fire. I did not read a line of them, but I believe them
to have been my granddaughter's letters. The prisoner was
staying at my house for a few days at Christmas time. I
did not see much, hardly anything of him. On the Friday
evening he behaved with the greatest indifference. I thought
I saw a little excitement about him just before he offered
me the things. He had been so perfectly,indifferent before
that I noticed the change.
Cross-examined—After the prisoner was remanded a
policeman, Farnham, asked me for one of the letters pro-
duced in court (the last from Townley), and another police-
man, Burton, asked me for the packet of letters, and sus-
pecting he had some improper motive 1 burnt them. I
thought he was pumping tee, and, being annoyed at that,
I burnt the letters.
Charles Parnham—When I got to Wigwell on the Fri-
day evening the prisoner came towards me and said, " I
wish to give myself up for murdering the young lady." I
cautioned him and asked him if he was aware of the nature
of the charge he was giving himself up for. Ho said "Yes,
quite so, and will go with you quietly, only let me see her
first." I then said to him, " What have you done with the
instrument or knife you committed the deed with ?" He
took the knife now produced out of his pocket and gave it
to me. It was wet with blood. I then took him into the
kitchen. He looked at the body stedfastly, but did not
speak. On the way to the lock-up he said "I am far hap-
pier now I have done it than I was before, and I trust she
is." I searched him and found two other knives (penknives)
upon him. Next morning I asked him if he knew anything
about a shawl. He said, " I saw one on the road and threw
it over the wall." This was Miss Goodwin's shawl. I
examined the road and found a small pool of blood at the
corner of Wigwell-mill-lane, At the hunting-gate, which
is about 200 yards from the lane and nearer the hall, I
found another large pool of blood. I did not notice any
between the two places.
Cross-examined—I did not say, "Are you aware of the
nature of the charge ?" because I doubted whether he was,
but because he seemed so anxious to give himself up.
noticed marks of whitling on a gate opposite to the hunt-
ing gate. Three or four pieces had been cut off. The gate
has been completely pulled to pieces and carried away by
the persons who have visited the spot.
This closed the case for the prosecution, and it being now
half-past one o'clock the Court adjourned for half an hour.
On the reassembling of the Court Mr. Macaulay addressed
the jury on behalf of the prisoner, He strongly hoped that
he should satisfy the jury heyena all doubt Shut by a mys-
terious dispensation of Providence the prisoner had been
deprived of his reason to such a degree as to render him not
amenable to the laws for the dreadful deed which undoubt-
edly he had committed. His father was a man of good
dmeeeagnhs tae
rn,dept ows i
ht ieomn ,
tahn had h
ed
prisoner tre
wase c itl
hd
er eenl ,d
etwosons e
t.
Fre amn d a
an
ti
early age his behaviour had been somewhat peculiar. He
was perfectly well conducted, perfectly gentle, perfectly
quiet, perfectly well behaved. He was exceedingly accom-
plished, but he was found to have no aptitude or capacity
for the serious business of life. When very young he was
noted for his taste for music. At school he acquired lan-
guages with facility ; but when put into a raerchant's count-
inghouse he could not learn the business. The learned
counsel then went into a detailed account of the evidence he
proposed to adduce, which from its importance we have
given as it fell from the lips of the witnesses.
At the close of Mr. Macaulay's address his lordship ob-
served—Perhaps, Mr. Macaulay, you had better address to
me the questions you desire to have left to the jury.
Mr. Macaulay—l should prefer doing so after the evidence
has been heard.

Baron Martin--Of course. I have not sat here to try
this case without well considering what questions I should
leave to the jury, and I will now read to you what I have
written down, and what I propose to leave to the jury. I
shall tell them that if they believe that, although there
might have been disease in the mind to some extent, yet if
the prisoner knew that the act he was committing would
probably cause death, and that the doing it would subject
him to legal punishment, there was criminal responsibility.
Mr. Macaulay—Many men have been acquitted with
approval who must have been convicted under such a direc.
Baron Martin—l have drawn that from a summing up of
Juit'
lee Le Blanc, which has been much approved of, and
a decision of Lord Denman's, and another of Lord
dgo
the law. I
ruling
ected to.
Emma Marsdewn believe it to be a correct statement of
have. put aside from my consideration the
itn were then The follow n
iesses
ruling hasth
be Judge who tried Bellingham, because that
called—
have known him all hiasmli the prisoner's maternal aunt, and
bsniriannfif
ate.theeri..
sveryhed
e affectionate
stroy e d h herself,
r saenl
fdt
named Mary Marsden, the
asVinesdrt ye
was
haousf
thems
uanp humane.
or
si
selsdnhteaorl
was
c3nanGedilbert Ainsworih, a first
snycloumre.moivletdu,s
Bourns
children, of whom five were imame maternal uncle, had 10
Two were confined in
for many years in a
lculstinic a°

an asylum. Another maternal uncle had six children, of
whom one has been insane. He is not now in an asylum.
Cross-examined.-- He was occasionally subject to fits of
ill-temper. He was not ill- tempered generally.
The Rev. Wm. Bourne Masters, the prisoner's maternal
uncle, corroborated the evidence of the last witness.
Mary Townley—l am the prisoner's mother. He had a
very poor capacity for business pursuits, and had no profes-
sion in August last. In March of this year I received a let-
ter from Miss Goodwin, expressing great affection for my
son, They were upon the most affectionate terms, and my
son's affection continued the same as ever. On the 12th of
August he received a letter from Miss Goodwin, which I
saw. (The letter was one of those given by Townley to
Capt. Goodwin and burnt by him.) It spoke of a clergy-
man, the most delightful man she had ever seen in her life.
He had been staying at Wigwell, and her grandfather
thought he would just suit her, but that would not do. It
ended, " Yours affectionately." The usual conclusion was
"Your own darling," or something of that sort. I saw him
on the Saturday, three days after he received that letter.
There was another from Miss Goodwin to him on that day.
It said she had a good deal to say to him, and it had better
be said at once. Grandfather had found out that they cor-
responded, and was wild that there was anything in the
way. " I want you to release me," the letter went on,
" that I may have it to say lam free. Don't take this too
hardly in pity for me. I shall not marry if I can help it."
That was signed " Yours sincerely," That letter seemed
to have turned his brain. He was in such an excited, sup-
pressed state of feeling that I asked Mr. Arrowsmith to sit
up with him. The next morning I went to my son's room.
He was at the door, and appeared very excited, but exter-
nally calm. He had not been in bed. He took nothing but
tea and brandy for breakfast, and only very little for dinner,
That evening (Sunday, August 16), he wrote a letter to
Miss Goodwin (the letter dated Sunday, and given
above.) He took a long time to write it, and was nervous
and excited while doing so. He came down on Monday
morning and lay on the sofa. He appeared very restless.
His hands and feet were twitching nervously. I gave him
some morphia. He remained on the sofa till dinner time,
and took no dinner. After dinner he wrote another letter
to Miss Goodwin. (This letter is also given above, and is
dated Monday.) He had a little difficulty in finding words
now and then. He was so nervous that he spoilt several
tinvelupeb in directing the letter of Sunday, and had to tear
them up. On Tuesday morning he took hardly any break-
fast, and appeared not to have had a night's rest. He then
went to Manchester to give a French lesson, and on coming
back he was in a perspiration, and said he hoped he was not
going to have an illness. That afternoon he went to Bolton,
to Mr. Arrowamith's. On Thursday another letter came
from Miss Goodwin (that given above), and I telegraphed
to him to return home. On arriving he showed me a letter
he had received from Miss Goodwin at Bolton. The pur-
port of it was that if he wished to see her he was to go to
the Midland Hotel at Derby, where he would find a note
from her, but she did not wish to see him. There was a
postscript, "After all you had better come," and she men-
tioned the trains. We consulted on what was to be done at
the station, and fixed that he had better go to Derby. Ihe
letter I gave him from Miss Goodwin evidently distressed
him. I could see he was dreadfully upset, but he always
kept quiet. Shortly afterwards he left for Derby. His man-
ner was generally reserved, but excited. I noticed an ex-
cited manner. That was his natural manner during the
whole course of his life. He was only excited on occasions.
I noticed a change after the receipt of Miss Goodwin's let-
ters. I should describe that change as a suppression of deep
feelings. 1 believe an objection was made to my marriage
with Mr. Townley on the ground of the insanity in my
family.
Cross-examined—The French lesson was given to the son
of a neighbour whom my son had been in the habit of teach-
ing from motives of kindness,

Catherine Townley, the prisoner's sister, confirmed the
evidence of her mother.
Washington Arrowsmith—l am a cotton-spinner at Bol-
ton. On the 12th of August I saw the prisoner before and
after he received Miss Goodwin's letter. He seemed much
depressed by it. lie seemed more depressed atter gating
the second letter. I sat up with him on the Saturday night,
the 15th. He was alternately depressed and excited, and
wept for about four hours in the course of the night, not
continu6usly. I assisted him in writing the letter of Sun-
day. He supplied the substance of the letter and I the
words. He seemed to have a difficulty in finding words.
He was with me at Bolton from Tuesday to Saturday, the
20th, aLd appeared to be suffering very severely in mind.
He received a letter from Miss Goodwin during that time,
which seemed to make him more despondent. I did not
see him again after he received the telegram of Mrs. Town-
ley. His mind and manner underwent a marked change
after he received the letters from Miss Goodwin. He
appeared to be lost in thought, and did not observe me
sometimes when I spoke to him. His natural disposition
was very kind, but very reserved.
Cross-examined—He was subject to passion like anybody
else. The letter from Ciilnow-mills he wrote himself. I aui
not aware that he had any medical advice on the night I
sat up with him. lie appeared to be very much distressed
and kept walking. That made me think it not safe to leave
him.

William Glover—l have been acquainted with the pri-
soner 4 years. He is extremely gentle and humane, and a
close and attached friend. He was very reserved to strangers.
I have seen him extremely impulsive and excitable at times•
He was a man with little hope, and looked despondingly at
most things. Sometimes he would address me, and on my
continuing the conversation did not appear to notice me.
His mind appeared to be wandering on something else.
John Grew - I am waiter at the Midland Hotel, and re-
member the prisoner coming to the hotel on T nursday even-
ing, the 20th August, He asked for chops and tea• At first
there was nothing to attract my attention, but afterwards
he walked up and down the cotfee•room. He took very
little indeed of his tea, and after writing a letter, asked
what time the mail went out,and on my replying 9 o'clock,
he went out apparently to post,the letter himself. The next
morning he asked if there were any letters for Townley.
He poured out a cup of tea and had some dry toast. Before
that he walked up and down, and muttered something
which I understood to mean soda and brandy. He had a
wild excited appearance about his eyes. After breakfasthe
walked up and down muttering to himself. I thought him
very eccentric. Ile asked the way to the smoking-room,
and when I told him he said, "I don't want to know the
way to the smoking-room. I know my way all over the
house." 1 came to the conclusion that he was not right in
his mind. Inspector Davis and chief-constable Fox have
been to me, and I told them that, in my opinion, the pri-
soner was not quite right in his mind.

Cross-examincd—l do not recollect baying told Davis on
the following Saturday that I noticed nothing about Town-
ley. I told him that Townley was very strange in his
manner.

The Rev. John Leighton Figgins, incumbent of St.
Clement's, Manchester- I should set the prisoner down as
a person dEficient in what I might call logical conclusion. I
have conversed with him since he has been in prison. Ido
not see any change, because I never had similar conversa-
tions before. If not knowing the difference between good
and evil is a sign of derangement, I should say ho is de-
rangea now.

e
diffCerroesns
ee xbaemit
w neeedn—r g
hhte
andn I swa
ryotnhga,t
Ih emdeoa ens
tnhoetr
eknow
etehr
tain things which I consider sinful and which he does not.
He was rational in the sense of understanding what I said.
Dr. Forbes NVinslow—l have seen the prisoner twice in
the presence of Mr. Sims, the governor of the gaol. He was
not aware of my name or the object of my visit. His be-
haviour was quite natural and not assumed. I talked to
him largely on the subject of the criree. I was with him
nearly two hours on the first occasion and three-quarters of
an hour on the second. I think that at the present moment
he is a man of deranged inteiteec. He was deranged on the
18th November and I thought still more so last night,
when I ARw him the second him. If I had any doubt as to
his insanity on the 18th of November, I had none whatever
last night. 1 adverted to the conversation I had had with
him on the previous occasion, with a view of satisfying my
mind that I had left him with an accurate impression of
what he had said. He repeated to me that he did not recog-
nise he had committed any crime at all, neither did he feel
any degree of pain, regret, contrition, or remorse for what
he had done. I endeavoured to impress on his mind on my
first visit the serious nature of the crime he had committed.
He repudiated the idea of its being a crime either against
God or man, and in reply to some observation of
mine, attempted to justify the act, alleging that he con.
sidered Miss Goodwin as his own property—that she
had been illegally wrested from him by an act of violence
—that he viewed h'er in the light of his wife who had
committed an act of adultery, and that he had as perfect a
right to deal with her life as he had with any other descrip-
tion of property, as the money in his pocket, &c. I endea-
voured to prove to him the gross absurdity of the statement
and the enormity of his offence, and he replied, " Nothing
short of a miracle can alter my opinions." The expression
that Miss Goodwin was his property was frequently repeated.
He killed her to recover and repossess himself of property
which had been stolen from him. I could not disturb this,
as I thought,:very insane idea. I said, " Suppose any one
robbed you of a picture, what course would you take to re-
cover it ?" He said he would demand its restitution, and if
it were not granted, he would take the person's life without
compunction. I remarked that he had no right to take the
law into his own hands; he should have recourse to legal
measures to obtain restitution. He remarked that he recog-
nised the right of no man to sit in judgment upon him. lie
was a free agent, and as he did not bring himself into the
world by any action of his own, he had perfect liberty to
think and act as he pleased, irrespective of any one else. I
regard these expressions as the evidence of a diseased intel-
they would
lect. Last evening he said that he had been for some weeks
previously to Aug. 21 under the influence of a conspiracy.
There were six conspirators plotting against him, with a
view to destroy him, with a chief conspirator at their head.
, andliberty
in
order to escape
This conspiracy was still going on while he was in prison,
aoonndthinenheatdhenior
odpoeurbattiotnhsatagiafinhset
him,
at
their evil purposes he would have to leave the country. He
became much excited, and assumed a wild, maniacal aspect.
I am satisfied that aspect was not simulated. I could not
get from him the names of the conspirators.
Mr. Macaulay—lf the present state of mental derange-

ment existed on 'Aug. 21, would it be likely to lead to the
commission of the act then committed?
Dr. Winslow—Most undoubtedly. Assuming him to have
been on Aug. 21 as he was on Nov. 18 and yesterday, I do
not believe that he was in a condition of mind to estimate,
like a sane man, the nature of his act and his legal liability.
Cross-examined—He referred to the conspiracy in general
terms on the 18th of November. 1 should class his case as one
of general derangement. He does not appear to have a sane
opinion on a moral point. I have no doubt he knows that
these opinions of his are contrary to those 'generally enter-
tained, and that if acted upon they would subject him to
punishment. I should think he would know that killing a
person was contrary to law and wrong in that sense. I
should thing that from his saying he should be hanged he
knew he had done wrong. His moral sense was more via_
ated than I ever saw that of any other human being, His
opinions were pretty much those of atheists, but he was
beyond atheism. He seemed incapable of reasoning cor-
rectly on any moral subject. He denied the existence of a
God and of a future world. He would suffer from his con-
finement, which would add to his excitement. It was more
remarkable last evening than on the 18th of November, and
might not have existed on the 21st of August. He said it
was a matter of perfect indifference whether he was dead or
alive.

Re-examined—He merely gave utterance to these opi-
nions dogmatically, and s,•!emed incapable of arguing upon
them.

Dr. Gisborne, the surgeon of the Derbyshire Infirmary
and of the County Gaol, gave similar evidence, and added
that the prisoner's condition at this time was similar to his
condition when he was brought to the gaol in August. The
prisoner stated to him that he looked upon a woman en-
gaged to him in the same light as his wife, and that he
ought to have the same control over his wife as over any
portion of personal property,
On cross-examination this witness stated that the pri-
soner's language implied that he knew that what he had
done was pnnisbable, but that he (the witness) believed he
would repeat the offence to-morrow.
Mr, Sims, the governor of the gaol, gave similar evidence
as to the conduct and statements of the prisoner.
This concluded the case for the defence, and as it was now
6 o'clock,
Mr. Baron Martin suggested that it was not desirable to
go on with so important a case at so late an hour.
The Court adjourned till 9 o'clock to• morrow morning.

WESTERN CIRCUIT.—EXETER, DEC. 10,
(Before Mr. Baron Pigott.)

James Stevens, pugilist, and John Burke, labourer, were
indicted for the wilful murder of John Mears, jun., at
Teigngrace, on the 14th of August.
Mr, Holdsworth and Mr. Bere were counsel for the pro-
secution ; Mr. Carter defended the prisoners.
Mr. Holdsworth having opened th, case,

Various witnesses stated that deceased, a man aged 31,
employed at the Bovey Tracey potteries, had been at the
Newton Races on the 9th of August, dressed in a dark coat
and corduroy trousers, and had not subsequently been seen
by them.
After some evidence had been given,
The jury said they had heard enough.

The Judge said he had never in all his experience heard
so unreliable a case. There was not a trace of one drop of
blood having been found, and if the fight had taken place in
the high road, the blood must have been seen. The boy
remained silent until the offer of a reward was published.
He first pitched upon Finnerty, and he said Burke had given
him 6d. not to say it was he, and he allowed Finnerty to be
taken off in custody, until the policeman suggested that his
description was more like Burke, and then he said it was
Burke. The man's body had got into the water, but how it
had got there no one could tell.
The jury returned a verdict of not guilty.

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS,

TIMES.—The enemies of Mr. Layard, if he has any,
will read his last speech to his constituents with a
malicious pleasure. If it is enjoyable to watch the
troubles of the storm-tossed mariner from the shore,
there is amusement, too, in the embarrassments of
a restless spirit safely lodged in a quiet berth. It is
due to Mr. Layard to admit that he betrays much
less wildness than might have been expected, and
submits to official restraints with a very good grace.
He boldly accepts the responsibility of his position
and undertakes to reconcile individual liberty with
subordination. Lest year he was frank enough to
tell the electors of South wark that a man in office
should consider himself as much out of office as ever
in respect of personal opinions, and was lucky enough
to have the Chinese question ready to hand as an
illustration of his own consistency. This year he
speaks with still more openness and confidence, de-
fending every measure of tne Government from an
independent point of view, and palliating their only
sin of omission in a most orthodox manner. " He
regretted very deeply" the speeches of Messrs.
Cobden and Bright ; " they were painful speeches."
He protested that " the Government possessed the
best information of what took place on ,the Con-
tinent, and could alone know the state of foreign
armaments." He gave a great des! of good advice to
those who, with very limited means of information,
presume to set the Treasury Bench right on matters
of State. He stated it as his deliberate conviction
that "the acts of the Government were marked by
liberality and patriotism," and deserved the grati-
tude of the public. This state of mind, supervening
on a Quixotic passion for reform, realises the poet's
idea " that men may rise on stepping stones of their
dead selves to higher things." The transformation
on which Mr. Hawthorne founded his most popular
novel was not more complete. The most merciless
of critics has become the most versatile of apologists;
the most dashing of assailants has shown himself a
master in the tamer arts of defence. Mr. Layard's
address belongs to the approved type of modern
vacation oratory. Thirty or forty years ago, when
the debates were not so generally read, no one
thought of volunteering speeches in the country.
Now and then Canning and Peel delivered them-
selves of orations on some grand occasion, or ventured
a few words on a practical subject, but the fashion
of reviewing the session and touching slightly upon
every question of the day, as if for the very purpose
of committing oneself, is quite new. However, the
practice is established, and every member of Parlia-
ment must be prepared with a synoptical view of
the state of things at home and abroad. Mr. Layard
only does what others have done before him us que
ad nauseant, but he does it with great tact and
ability. Dealing first with the old charge of Parlia-
mentary apathy, he told his hearers plainly that
" they could not have sensation Parliaments if they
had no sensation questions in the country." At the
same time, he avows his adherence to his former
opinion that there should iae an extension of the
suffrage, and that it had better be granted in quiet
times. Not that he denies the wise discretion shown
by Reformers in forbearing to press their proposals
on the House, but he still distrusts the policy, to
which he bows, of making no concessions except to
agitation. From this topic he passes to the conduct
of the working classes during the distress of the last
two years, and combats the theories promulgated by
Messrs. Bright and Cobden at Rocledale. He con-
tends that our labouring classes are better off than
those of most old and tong-settled countries, that
they exercise indirectly more political power, and
that if they are not as highly educated as in Prussia,
" that arises from the greater amount of liberty en-
joyed in England." Where education is forced on
the people from above, the benefits which it confers
are chiefly intellectual, and we may learn from
the example of Prussia itself that such education
may fail to qualify its possessors for political action.
After declaring himself in favour of an educational
franchise, Mr. Layard plunges into Foreign Affairs.
He endorses the principle that England cannot
exert a proper moral influence on Europe with-
out a large military expenditure. He quotes
figures to show that in the year 1861, selected by
Mr, Cobden in his " Three Panics," the estimated
cost and strength of the French Navy, taken by
him as the basis of his calculations, was almost
doubled by supplemental credits. He cordially
adopts the arguments of Lord Russell on the Con-
gress, justifies the language of his chief about
Poland, and points out, fairly enough, the absurdity
of objecting in the same breath that it was a cruel
kindness to encourage the Poles so much, and that
we should nut have let out that we did not intend
to go to war. He then claims credit for the in-
flexible neutrality of the Government towards
America, but, soon returning to the East, discusses
successively Turkey, China, and Japan. According
to Mr. Layard, Admiral Kuper was satisfied by the
capture of the three steamers of Prince Satsuma,
and would have steamed quietly out of the bay if
the forts had not fired on him. Such is not the
impression which we received from his own de-
spatch • and, however much we deplore any suffer-
ing inflicted on the peaceable inhabitants of Kago-
sinaa, we are far from sure that the confiscation of
the steamers would have been an adequate punish-
ment. On another point, however, we quite agree
with Mr. Layard. We allude to the misdeeds of
those adventurers who disgrace the English name
in the Eastern seas. Their claim to be protected in
fraud and lawlessness is one of the great obstacles
to our commerce end influence, and it would be well
if they were guilty of no worse practices than
" writing home complaints against our official re-
presentatives. It is creditable to Mr. Layard that
he can win acceptance for such moderate and sen-
sible views from the constituency of Southwriioros
and maintain his seat by virtue of pr-etensh
we
higher than those of a local candidate.
cannot help smiling at his altered ttoonree
preach him
complacency, we should be the test
that lanurgfacmial
must cu:
with it as a fault. It is a chan'
over every man who buys his own experience of
political action. It is a familiar truism that it is
, • easy to discern
easy to criticise, but hard to act
from the outside what ought to be done, hard to dis-
cern from the inside the right way of doing it,.

Why the one should be so easy and the other so
hard in politics is not so obvious as the truth that
it is so. The chief reason, we believe, will be
found in the fluctuating nature of the materials
with which statesmen have to deal. Others
have to collect facts, to form opinions out
of them, and perhaps to apply those opinions
to new combinations of circumstances. A statesman
has a far more complicated task than this—a task
all the more difficult because each of is processes
appears so simple. Let him be an historian, an
economist, and a man of the world ; let him be
gifted with the imagination to conceive and the
nerve to execute; he will still fail of success unless
he have a profound and sympathetic insight into
the motives and opinions of men and nations. To
him sentiments are facts, causes as well as, effects,
means and ends at once. The stumbling-blocks of
co-operation are great, and the sacrifice of indivi-
dual convictions to the necessities of joint action is
trying, but the teal and permanent difficulty of
statesmanship is the anticipating, interpreting,
leading, following, and giving practical expression
to, public opinion. The political necessities which
dominate over one generation are often the creation
of the former; their component elements were opi-
nions, and their present force is embodied in opinions
only. So hopeless does it appear to master all these
moral conditions of domestic and foreign policy that
the great majority of public men in power trust en-
tirely to instinct, and are content to take external
pressure as a good rough test of opportuneness and
expediency. This tends to make a Minister little
more than the agent of the public will, and implies
a deep scepticism as to the value of political prin-
ciples. We cannot acquiesce in this as the ultimate
ideal of government, but it is often the nearest ap-
proach to it that we can get, and is at least safer
than the theories of amateurs. If we mistake not,
Mr. Layard has learnt this lesson, and is already
less of an optimist than he once was. How the
Queen's Government can be carried on with safety
and efficiency is not the highest question that an
administrator can ask himself, but it is a vital one,
and while he is engrossed by the solution of it he
must leave to others the suggestion and elaboration
of organic projects of reform.
POST.—There are few offices in the kingdom
more difficult to discharge at the same time with
dignity and efficiency than those which are held by
the occupants of the judicial bench. The model
judge should, in order to come up to the popular
standard, be an individual not only of profound
learning and consummate ability, but of unwearied
patience and unfailing courtesy of demeanour. By
many he is expected to present a living epitome of
all the Christian virtues; by the vulgar he is in-
variably regarded as the incarnation of all that is at
once the most wise, the most majestic, and the most
awful. Stripping, however, from the judicial cha-
racter all that may be regarded as clap-trap, there
remains quite sufficient to make it desirable that
promptitude, precision, and unswerving fidelity
upon the judgment-seat ;should be tempered by
moderation of language and dignity of demeanour.
We all remember the painful scene which occurred
some years ago at the Guildford Assizes, when a
feud sprang up between the judge and the high
sheriff, in which both parties committed themselves,
the latter perhaps the most unpardonably, and
where a breach, which had been already once
patched up by the intervention of the Chief Justice,
ended in the infliction of a heavy fine upon the
official guardian of the public peace. The scandal
which was thus occasioned has hardly yet been for-
gotten, and remains as a lesson of the extreme cau-
tion which it is requisite to exercise if the;boun-
daries of that reverence and respect which should
surround the judicial bench are never to be trans-
gressed. It is therefore with the more regret that
we have noticed the charge delivered the other day
by Mr. Baron Pigott to the grand Jury at Exeter.
The learned judge is, until a successor to the late
lamented Justice Wightman is appointed, the
junior of his fraternity, and has just en-
tered upon the honourable and onerous duties
of his first circuit in his judicial capacity. After
some sensible remarks upon the demoralising ten-
dency of pugilism, and the utter absence of any
countervailing benefits to lessen the evils of the
unmitigated ruffianism to which it gives rise, his
lordship proceeded to comment upon the arrange-
ments which had been made to receive him. He com-
plained in strong terms that the business of the
country had been retarded by the negligence of
" some authorities in the town," and that the com-
mission could rot be opened from " the stinginess"
of those who declined to light the cathedral for
afternoon service at his request. Of course such a
charge, if founded on fact, would do anything but
redound to the credit of those who had laid them-
selves open to it. Unfortunately for Baron Pigott,
one story proverbially only holds good until another
is told. Tne Dean, the chief authority in the cathe-
dral, turns out not to have been in the city, having
been summoned to attend the funeral of a near
relative. Both the Canons in Residence, however,
have come forward to give their own version of the
affair, which is substantially as follows. It is quite
true that a notification was received by the autho-
rities of the cathedral that Baron Pigott would pre-
fer attending church on a certain afternoon, instead
of waiting till the following morning. But it is
equally true that this request was coupled with an
intimation of the time at which he would arrive,
which would have rendered it imperative, in order
to comply with it, to change, in the first place, the
hour of the afternoon service, and to fix it, in the
second, at such a time as would have rendered it im-
possible to conclude it during daylight upon a short
ll.cember's day. From this alternative the Chapter
might well shrink after the outcry which was excited
some time ago at the mere report of an unseemly
deference having been displayed towards Royalty
itself at Peterborough. It involved also the ques-
tion not of the expense, but of the possibility, of
lighting the cathedral. It is true that facilities for
doing so exist in the choir, but the cortege of trum-
peters and javelinmen who accompany the judge
attract a following which is rather numerous than
select, who generally await in the nave the egress
of the judge. This portion of the church has been
recently fitted up for service at the private expense
of a member of the Chapter, but, from the time
at which the service ordinarily takes place, no pro-
vision has been made for lighting it. It is needless
to point out how unseemly would have been the
spectacle of a rabble composed of the riff-raff of the
town thronging the nave at an hour when the efforts
of the authorities to preserve anything like order
or decorum would have been effectually paralysed.
Such is the counter statement put forth upon the
part of the Chapter by Archdeacon Bartholomew
and Canon Harington, the Chancellor of the diocese,
men whose motives and character are alike above
suspicion. We are bound to say that, in our opinion,
the Church has the best of the argument. Baron
Pigott does not deny that arrangements had been
made to receive her Majesty's representative with
all fitting honours on his way to morning service,
nor does he explain why he himself should have se-
lected for his arrival as hour which interfered with
the ordinary services of the day. It is difficult to
imagine that a little consideration upon his part
would not have prevented a collision of any kind,
and still more difficult to justify a hasty accusation
of " stinginess" made from the bench against a body
who, whatever else may have been their shortcom-
ings, have never before been accused of any failures
in this respect. We can quite believe that the new
judge may have been eager to resent a fancied
affront to his newly acquired dignity. But he
would have done well to pause before he accused a
society of loyal and honourable men, in the absence
of their head, of an intentional omission to pay pro-
per respect to the representative of her Majesty.
Had Baron Pigott arrived earlier or later, the ques-
tion could not have arisen. But it is rather too
much, even for a judge, to time his coming at an
hour which would interfere with the usual service,
and then to grumble not only that the time is not
changed to suit his convenience, but that it is not
changed to an hour which would render the preser-
vation of order and decorum difficult, if not im-
possible.

YANKEE TOASTS.—The following toasts were
given at a recent dinner of New Jersey Democrats:—
" Blessed are the peacemakers." " The last man and the
last dollar—May the one be an Abolitionist, and the other
a shinplaster, and may they both perish in the last ditch
together." " State rights; may they not be forgotten in
delirious and bloody triumph of state wrongs." " Things
we remember—Habeas corpus and trial by jury." st To
the first Governor who shall have the virtue and courage to
keep his oath of office, and protect and defend the constitu-
tion, laws, and sovereignty of his State and the rights of its
citizens. " The light of other days, when liberty wore a
white face and America was not a negro." " The Demo-
cratic party, as it was, before cowardice, treachery, shoddy,
and greenbacks had demoralised its councils." The aboli-
tion war for disunion—Let those who think it is right go to
it, and those who think it is wrong stay at home." ct may
those who say we shall never have the Union
as it was follow the example of their brother
traitor Judas Iscariot, who died and went to his
own place." " The War, Democrat—A white man's
face on the body of a negro.' "The only•possibi
e remedy
for secession and the only hope of the Union—Peace mu-
tual concession, and compromise," ,
CADYERTISEMENT.I-110110WaY'S o.i
Relief and Remedy.—There ntment and Pills.—
are
many cases of sciatica,
tie doloreux, and neuralgia, now Wearing
out the patience
and strength of thousands who
might derive incredible
ease by the use of Holloway's
matter what has been the Ointment and Pills. No
how severe and excruciating have duration
of the complaint, nor
will be diminished by w have been the sufferings, they
arm fomentations, brisk friction
with this unguent
suitable doses of the Pills. This
treatment has often succeeded when every variety of seda-
tive had proved perfectly useless. The doses of the Pills
must depend on the constitutional habit, as their purifying
and strengthenino. properties are more required in this
class of nervous diseases than their apolent powers.