The Sun.
London, England, 1849-12-31 00:00:00

ST. MARY HALL.

The Rev. T. Jacloon, of this Hall, Principal of the
Training College, Battersea, has been presented to a
prebendal stall in St. Paul's Cathedral.

NEW INN HALL.

The Bev. A. Carden 8.A., has been licensed to the
curacy of St. Mark, Gloucester.
The Rev. W.W. 13. Phillipsota, 8.A., has been licensed
to the curacy of All Saints, Lewes, Sussex.

The Rey. J. W. C. flugFv,s, has been iieenzed
to the assistant curaey otAU Ssi,rs, Lewes, Sussex.

FDMUND HALL

The It 'v. J. S. Altmann, 1!.A., has been licensed to
the curacy of Henfieid, Sussex.
Professors Acland, Daubeny, and Pox ell, of this
Univers'.ty, have kindly consented to give a lecture
on some scientific subject of popular interest to
iho members of the City Lecturer. Professors
Daubeny
.and Po., el have eelivered theirs,
which ware on the ConstituAin of the Atmosphere, and
on Sli,oting Stars; Pro:essor Acland's be delivered
on Thursday next, and will be " On the processes of
Animal Life, illustrated from the class of Birds, chiefly
by the growth of their eggs, and the formation of their
feathers."

From a catalogue of books purchased for the Bod-
leian Library during tha year ending Nov. 8, 1849,
we perceive that the library has ir.aie several im-
portant and curious acuisitions in that time. Among
thee are the valuable collection of Satscrit MSS.
formed by the Rev. Dr. Mill (now Professor
of Hebrew, at Cambridge) during his residence in
India, in nu fiber 160, and for which the sum of 3501.
was paid (a catalogue is preparing, cud when finisl.ed
will be stunt to etch college library); a collection of
various Greek and L:Ain auihors, purchased at the sale
of the library of the late eminent scholar, Profes,it:r
Jacobs,cdi7or of the " Anthologia Gtve,;a," and with his
xiS. notes.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN.
" Audi :alter= parteni."

SIR,—My attention has been called to the follow-
ing passage in your Bow-street repbrt, published on
Saturday evening. The defendants ccmplained "of
having been locked up all night for merely singing in
the street, and said it was really too bad that w hen
the soi• disant Chief Baron Nicholson tendered bail for
them it was refused. Mr.llnspector Dodd justified the
refusal, on the ground that, not only were the pri-
soners themselves intoxicated, but their proposed bail
were somewhat elevated too."
The grave imputation of having been somewhat
elevated I shall neither attempt to palliate nor deny,
" Zeno, Plato, Aristotle,
All were lovers of the bottle."

Nor is a police station-house, at four o'clock in the
morning, a place which a man is expected wilfully to
enter inia state of sober sadness ; but as my name has
been facetiously introduced, I will ask you as a favour
to make public, as a warning to other Bacchanalian
judges, the contumelious way in which" The Court"
was treated on the occasion referred to, even within
its own precincts, viz., Bow-street.
I hud been supping, Sir, in the Temple with a
Bachelor Denclier, a circumstance which I maintain
rendered my innate spirit of moral justice more
forcib!y argumentative, if not quite 1) legally con-
vincing. Well, Sir, while ringing the bell at my
Chambers, I perceived a number of policemen drag-
ging along two gentlemen (whom your reporter in
" Young England's" wit calls " fast young men")
into the station-house, followed by a crowd. One
outside the crowd remarked, in a tone of remonstrance,
"Policeman, your are really exceeding your duty."
Upon this a rush was made by the police upon the
speaker; he was thrown down, and torn up, and then
thrust into the station house. A perceptible wrong
awakens the sensibilities. I, as a judge
of the land, could not staid by and
see the liberty of the subject thus outraged. I fol-
lowed into the passage of the station for the purpose,
as I stated, of explaining to the Inspector what I had
witnessed. I was seized by two or three constables,
my clothes torn, and my body thrust into the street.
I was then told by the Cerberus that I was not every-
body—a self evident proposition I could not dispute ;
but imagine, Mr. Editor, the judicial ermine defiled
by the 1' division.
Perhaps you've read or beard repeated
How Captain Gulliver was treated,
When thrown among the Lilliputians.

If this is what Mr. Inspector Dodd calls
being elevated, I at once join issue. I was at
length admitted to an interview with the superior
officer on duty—not Mr. Inspector Dodd—he was
not there, and, notwithstanding my evidence, the
gentleman for whom I interfered, and who really had
committed no offence, was locked up for the night in
a cell,-and such a night ! He was discharged in the
morning by the worthy magistrate, without fine or
admonition. Further comment is needless. I leave
the matter to the consideration of better judges than
myself, and have the honour to be, Sir, your very
obedient and obliged servant,
THE SOLDISANT LORD CHIEF
BARON NICHOLSON.
Garrick's Head, Bow. street, Dec. 31, 1849.

THE MYSTERIOUS DROWNING
AT FENCOTT.
In last Saturday's Chronicle we gave particulars
of the mysterious disappearance of Elizabeth Stanton,
of Fencott, and of some suspicious circumstances
connected therewith. The magistrates of the
Ploughly division, in which the above place is
situated, continued, by the officers, efforts in furthe•
ranee of an elulidation of the mysterious circum-
stances. Those efforts have been so far successful as
to lead to the findi ug of the body in the river Ray,
about fifty yards below Fencott-bridge. On the sub-
siding of the overflowed waters dragging was com-
tnenced, and on Wednesday last the body was found
by Mr. Beckley, fisherman, of Islip. She was dressed
as described by us i ast week, and had the whole of
her scanty clothing or, including her bonnet, which,
it appears, had ben tied securely on her head.
The features were fully distinguishable, and the
body was but little decomposed. The sediment of the
water adhered so cl osely to the body as to form a
skin like covering. From the body having been
drawn from the water on the Charlton-on- Ottmoor
side of the river, it was, after having been placed on
a hurdle, carried to that village, where for about en
hour it was, in consequence of the peremptory refusal of
the Rev. G. Riggs, rec:or, to allow it to be placed in the
church, exposed to view in the road near his mansion..
The arguments of the parishioners in favour of the
placing the remains in the church were met with a
direct negative, and an intimation that he would take
the consequences of the refusal. Mr. Riggs suggested
that the body should be taken back and conveyed to
the cottage of the father of the deceased, but this
was opposed, for reasons stated, by the bystanders,
and the proposer of it then suggested that the
remains should be placed in the parish coal-house.
Cause was shown against this proposition also, and
ultimately the body was placed in the parish school-
room. On Thursday it was cleaned, and subse-
quently inspected by Mr. Sydenhaw, surgeon, of
Islip, and Mr. Dawson, surgeon, of Bicester, both of
whom intimated that the body was free from bruises
or marks of violence, and that it appeared to be
in a healthy state. These facts go to remove the
impression of murder having been committed. In-
formation was, on finding the body, forthwith given
to Mr. Brunner, the coroner for the district, who
appointed ten o'clock on Friday for holding the in-
quest. The officers continued their exertions in ob-
taining evidence explanatory of the mysterious case, and
relative to which there are a variety of rumours. Of
these we do not take cognizance, but shall continue to
gives such facts as may transpire. The inquest on
the unfortunate young woman was held at the Crown
Inn, Charlton-on-Ottntoor. All the evidence obtain-
able was produced and fully heard. From the late
hour at which the inquiry terminated we this week
can only give the result. After a patient inquiry, a
verdict of " Found Drowned" was returned. In our
next we propose giving the copious evidence in extent°.
—Oxford Chronicle.

Alluding to the long looked-for " Letter to the
Queen on a late Court-martial," by Mr. Warren, a
document now announced for immediate publication,
the United Service Gazette observes :—" Expectation
is on tip toe (we need hardly say) in military circles ;
and if what we have heard as to the nature of some
of the expected revelations, and the distinguished
sanction under which the forthcoming manifesto will
appear be correct, the subject will prove one of a
national importance, and must lead to a sweeping change
of system at the Horse Guards. That system we have
long thought a rotten one, and hope the blow about
to be given it will be a vigorous one—well aimed, and
effectual,"

SECESSION TO ROME.—The Rev. J. M. Forbes,
1).D., rector of St. Luke's Church in New York, has
re signed his charge, and withdrawn himself from the
E• tiscopal Church, with the intention of joining the
leo wish Church. Dr. Forbes has long been one of the
staunchest of High Churchmen. In the General Con-
v en don of 1844, Dr. Forbes roundly and emphatically
d, mied all Romanistic tendency in the Episcopal Church,
al, d now, just five years after, falls soul and body over
to Rome ! In 1847 1)r. Forbes was one of the repre-
sen tativcs of the diocese of New York in the General
Cur mention, and then, as on a former occasion, he was
pro a inent in disavowing all sympathy with Rome.—
Ed inhurgh Witness,
MAGISTERIAL EXCHANGE.—Mr. Seeker, the Ma-
gi: strata at the Southwark Police Court, will, fir the
to turer sit at the Greenwich and Woolwich Police
C.on.rts, instead of Mr. Gilbert a'Beckett, who exchange s
witb . Mr. Seeker, ni,d will in future preside at the South-
war: a Court.—Sunday Paper.
I ,IVERPOOL, SATURDAY.—The Royal Mail stem-I-
shii , Canada, Captain Judlsins, departed from the Mersey
to-t ,uy for Halifax and New York, with the usual semi-
mo athly mails for North America and a full compli 'Dent
of passengers. She also carries out about 700 tons of
me rchnndize, including 250 tolls of French goods,
bviught to this port on Sunday last by the steamer Com-
armiore, from Havre.
72.1DESTRIAN FEAT.—On Tuesday morning James
alerkins, fruiterer, &c., of Canterbury, undertook for a
NWager to walk ten miles in three hours, and to carry a
1 b, Isket of oranges, together with more ponderous ar-
tie les, to the weight of 80:b3., with which he was not
ai ,wed to rest except by placing them on his knee to
' cha •ige their po3ition throughout the whole distance.
Tbe ground appointed was from the milestone in St.
Dan ;tan's to that on Beaconhill, near Ospringe; a heavy
tthii 1 -ery hilly road, which he accomplished 5 min. 30
sec. % ithin the above time, by completing his task in
2h. 5i min. 30 sec.

ROOKW()OD.

Cheap Edition. By TV. Harrison Ainsworth.
A second volume, comprising the whole of the
brilliant romance of iookwoed, only confirms us in
our opinion of the merits of this marvellously cheap
re-issue of the writings of William Harrison Ains-
worth. Within little more than 200 pages are accu •
mulated together those chapters of enthralling interest
which first directed public attention to this, remark-
able novelist, at once investing him with popularity,
and inducing the most distinguished of our Quarterly
reviewers to swell the voice of his reputation. Per-
haps of all his productions, not excepting " Jack
Sheppard," there is not one so abounding with evi-
dences of intellectual earnestness and impetuosity as
"Rookwood." Although modestly couched for the
most part in the language of prose, as a narrative pos-
sessing all the verve of an ode and all the impulsive
glibness of a lyric , especially in the glorious de-
scriptive passages relating to the memorable ride to
York, a ride completed by Black Bess in one night,
under the guidance of Dick Turpin, the Prince of
Highwaymen. Prom the preface to the present
republication it would appear that the rapidly with
which this particular portion of the narrative was
v‘ ritten was, in a great measure, commensurate with the
rapidity with which the ride itself was accomplished.
Mr. Ainsworth informs us that the account of
this extraordinary feat of horsemanship was
penned in a single night and a single day,
namely, within something less than twenty-
four hours ; in corroboration of which
avowal it was scarcely necessary for him to add that
his pen "literally scoured over the pages." From
this it is sufficiently manifest that the "Ride to
York," forming the fourth book to the romance of
"Rookwood," was composed in a sort of inspiration—
the place of its composition being a house called the
Elms, in which the author then resided at Kilburn.
Of this singular passion of composition he says—" So
thoroughly did I identify myself with the flying
highwayman, that, once started, I found it impossible
to halt. Animated by a kindred enthusiasm, I cleared
every obstacle in my path with as much facility as
Turpin disposed of the impediments that beset
his flight. In his company I mounted the hill-
side, dashed through the bustling village, swept
over the desolate heath, threaded the silent street,
plunged into the eddying stream, and kept an onward
course without pause, without hindrance, without
fatigue. With him I shouted, sang, laughed, exulted,
wept. Nor did I retire to rest till, in imagination, I
heard the bell of York Minster toll forth the knell of
poor Black Bess." The confession is especially in-
teresting to the multitudes who have found their
imaginations affected by this surprising narrative, one
of the most , brilliant descriptions to be met with in
the whole range of our prose literature. At
the very outset of the ride the attention is fixed
by the accidental death of Tom King, by
the pistol-ball of his comrade, Dick Turpin, and our
curiosity is immediately roused by the sudden reso-
lution of the robber to ride direct, without stoppage
or relay, from London to York, thereby at once
escaping his pursuers, and
_ _

" Witching the world with noble horsemanship."
He starts from a tavern at Kilburn Wells at about
sunset on an autumn day in 1737, hurrying along
Shoot•uplane, in the direction of Hampstead.
Skirting the heath near the path leading towards
North-end, he surmounts the hill, leaps over the
Hendon-road, passes Crackskull-common, and rushes
along the cross road to Highgate. After clearing a
gate on the outskirts of that village, he threads the fields
towards Hornsey, scuds past Crouch-end through
Duval-lane, and bounds over the high toll-bar:gate sur-
mounted with cheeaux-de-frize, close to Hornsey.
Turning into a bye lane at Bucket's green he pursues
his course towards Tottenham, " runs the gauntlet
of that straggling town," and leaps, lengthways, over
a donkey cart, in the main street of Edmonton.
Along Enfield highway he careers at full gallop,
coolly lighting his pipe of tobacco in view of the
constable Coates and his companions. Near Ware
he leaves word with a waggoner that his pursuers
will find him, if they wish, at York, a message that
naturally affords them much cause for astonishment.
By the moonlight, by the starlight, by the
flickering lamps of the town, by the
twinkling fins of the village, by the gleaming
doors of the toll-bars, chanting his songs, burning
his weed, laughing, shouting, and driving over the
crisp ground in a whirl of exultation, the crack rider
of England in that, and perhaps in any subsequent
age, speeds on in spite of every hindrance and impe-
diment. He encounters the London and York stage,
pushes on through Northamptonshire, and gives his
mare a refresher at a hostelrie near Burleigh House.
On through Stamford, through Lincolnshire, through
Rutland, through Lincolnshire again, by Melton
Mowbray—" Tantivy, lass, Tantivy I" By Gran-
tham, over Gonerhy-hill, through the vale of Belvoir,
past Newark, past Trent, through the paths and
glades of Broad Notts, through Sherwood, once
the haunt of Robin and Maid Marian, on,
on, on through the harvest fields of York-
shire! Pest Baw trey, past Thorne, past
Selby, hard by the waters of the Don, past Shaith,
over the Ouse, the Aire, and the Derwent, swimming
on the back of Black Bess across Cawood Ferry, Dick
Turpin still contrives to outstrip his pursuers. Past
Fulford, on, on, until he comes in view of Mallow's
Tower and Clifford's Keep, and " the serene and
massive pinnacles "of York Minster. Bess dies, and
Dick Turpin, seeping for the loss of his beautiful
steed, encounters his pursuers, concealed under the
disguise of a countryman, on the bowling-green of a
little hostelrie. This is the narrative which the ge-
nius of Harrison Ainsworth, as a romancist, has ren-
dered one of such matchless fascination. It is not,
however, to this episode alone that " Rookwood" is
indebted for its popularity ; its flash songs
and chiming lyrics are as good as any in the language,
and are scattered with a prodigal hand through the
chapters of the fiction. As a whole, therefore,
" Rookwood" possesses qualities to which scarcely
one of the subsequent works from the same hand
can make any pretensions, and hence we are satisfied
that the present re-issue, so remarkable for its com-
pact size and extraordinary cheapness, will command
a circulation in some measure equivalent to that to
which it is so eminently entitled.

THE ITALIAN OPERA AND THE
LEGITIMATE DRAMA.
(From the Chronicle.)
The legitimate drama is reinstated at Drury-
lane, thanks to the spirit and enterprise of Mr.
Anderson; and what was recently by turns a 20-
nagerie and a concert-room, has passed once more
under the lawful sway of Melpomene. This
auspicious revolution, the consummation of which
was duly recorded in our columns of Thursday morning,
naturally revives, with new interest, the yet unan-
swered inquiry as to the destinies of the sis er esta-
blishment—which has likewise of late years under-
gone a woful severance from her old and true alle-
giance. What is going to be done with Covent-
garden ? And, in particular, are we to have a
second Italian Opera next season ? One might, in-
deed, have thought a priori that this was hardly a
question which could need to be discussed seriously, at
a moment n hen the lawyers are still busy with the
debris of the latest affair of the kind, and when our
columns of Law lotcliigence continue to afford, from
time to time—under the too-suggestive heading,
" Court of I3.inkruptcy, In Re

ditional 0.1 what once bore the name
of "Royal Italian Opera." But as there may be
some reason for doubting whether the true nicral of
that catastrophe is universally appreciated, we are
desirous—less for the sake of any imprudent specu-
lator who may have a for:une to throw away than for
the general interests of the lyrical drama in this
country—of stating our objections to an experiment
wl.ich would, we are convinced, prove alike ruinous
to the capitalist and mischievous in a public point of
view. Let us begin with clearing the question of
one palpable fallacy, that meets us on the threshold.
We allude to the fancied analogy between operatic or
dramatic undertakings and ordinary commercial en-
terprises. It is imagined by many, that a " monopoly
of music," as it is called, presents an odd and unseemly
contrast to "free-trade in everything else"—in other
words, that the competitive principle which answers
so well in the every-day operations of trade and
commerce, and which we are acustomed to regard as
the parent alike of cheapness and excellence, is of
necessity equally applicable to the affairs of art
and the drama. But what is the rationale of the
undoubtedly sound commercial maxim, that " two
shops are better than one ?" Simply, that the increased
demand for a particular commodity, resulting from
the opening of the second shop, stimulates an increased
supply—that increased supply very commonly means
diminished cost of production—and that cheapened
production leads to more extensive consumption. The
maxim is true or false, in any particular case, pre-
cisely according as these conditions are, or are not,
capable of being realised. It all rests on the funda-
mental postulate, that an increased demand necessarily
tends to produce an increased supply. Let this
element of the question be wanting—and the free-
trade formula at once falls to the ground. Now this
is precisely how the case stands with regard to the
public patronage of operatic and dramatic art. The
great primary condition of the successful application
of the mere commercial principle is here signally
wanting. Demand does not generate supply. The
opening of a second Opera-house has not
the remotest tendency to increase the available
amount of first-rate operatic talent. Prima donnas
are not worked off by steam power at so much a
dozen, like silks, shirtings, and calicoes. You can't
get a Lind, a Sontag, a Grisi, a Lablache, or a Mario
made to order. No force of the "commercial prin.
ciple" can break down this monopoly—for it is held
under patent direct from Nature herself. Double your
demand and 3ou merely double, treble, or quadruple
the market price of the commodity, without either
improving its quality or adding one iota to its quantity.
Hence the " extravagant salaries," which have been
said—not very accurately, by the way, as we shall
presently see—to have wrecked Mr. Delafield's specu-
lation. Those " extravagant salaries" were not, as
is somewhat inconsiderately assumed, an accidental
item in the Covent-garden experiment—they belonged
to its very essence. Of course salaries will be
exorbitant when two houses are bidding against
each other for the talent which is not more than
sufficient to satisfy the demands of one. To
ask for the competition without the "extravagant
salaries" is to ask for causes without effects. Such
is the radical fallacy of the doctrine of " free trade,"
as applied to operatic and dramatic affairs. It is
simply proposing to apply the commercial principle of
unrestricted competition to a commodity which nature
has made the subject of a pretty close monopoly.
When it is further considered that the physical
dimensions of our theatres impose a fixed limit to
the "consuming power" of the public; and likewise

:hat custom hai' fixed the selling price of the article

at a maximum which no manager can safely venture
to exceed—in a word, that this is a branch of
business in which the "returns" are not susceptible
of indefinite increase, in proportion to increased
outlay—the reader will see the full absurdity
of applying the " commercial " doctrine to a class
of undertakings which nature and custom alike
have combined to withdraw from the jurisdictiot,
of political economy. The competing theatrical
manager finds himself hemmed in between two anti

commercial necessities—he pays monopoly prices, nod
Lis receipts are limited to a fixed stand ird. But let
us go a step further, and look at the effects of this.
kind of competition on the character of operatic art
itself. The same process which runs up salaries to e
preposterous height obviously makes it impossible for
any one establishment to retain in its service a full
and effective staff of the highest talent. The corps
which, if combined and concentrated on a single
stage, would be adequate to the perfect interpretation
of the greatest masterpieces of the first composers, is
broken up and scattered. You have a star here, and
a star there—an incomparable Alice or Angina in one
house, and a superb Norma in another—but
nowhere a sustained and harmonious ensemble, com-
plete in all its parts and proportions. Nothing
could more forcibly illustrate this tendency of
the competitive system than the deplorable con-
dition to which it has brought the national drama. In
the old days, when Drury-lane and Covent garden,
instead of ruining each other by an irrational compe
tition, concentrated their respective resources—the
one on tragedy, and the other on comedy—salaries
were moderate, each establishment had the undis-
turbed command of the best talent of the day, and
each was enabled to produce the highest and most
finished combinations of excellence in its own line of
art. But competition crept in, and spoiled all. In
place of a perfect and effective corps dramatique, we
got the " star system," with its few prizes and its
many blanks. In place of a rational and well-orga
nized division of labour and combination of talent, by
a hich managers, actors, the public, and art itself alike
profited—we have of late years had a little of
every thing every where, but artistical perfection
and completeness nowhere. The consequence
was what we have seen—the British drama
went out, and French horsemanship and concerts
monstres came in. To such a pass have matters ar-
rived, that the production of a perfectly well acted
English play on the boards of one of our great metro-
politaa theatres—should so brilliant a success be
achieved by the present lessee of Drury-lane—will
really be one of the most remarkable novelties of the
age. To those who have followed us thus far, it
must be needless to say much on the particular cir-
cumstances of the case more immediately before us.
If the principles above stated are sound, it at once
follows that any project for renewing the disastrous
experiment of the last three seasons is one which all
true lovers of the lyrical drama are interested in de-
precating. Yet it may not be useless to correct one
or two misapprehensions which prevail, we believe,
to some extent, with reference to the history of that
ruinous business. It cannot be too distinctly under-
stood that the Covent-garden speculation failed, not
from accidental or remediable mishaps, but from
causes intrinsic to its nature. It was an experi-
ment tried under most favourable auspices, and one
sees no reason whatever why it should not have suc-
ceeded—except the one insurmountable reason that
the whole thing was essentially a blunder. It was
supported at the outset by a singularly powerful
combination of first-rate talent, including the ser-
vices of a musical director who had had upwards of
twenty years' experience at her Majesty's Theatre.
The financial management lacked neither skill nor
capital. In the hands, first, of an accomplished artiste
and her husband (himself a musician and composer)
—next, of an experienced music-dealer and man of
business—and lastly, of a gentleman of large pro-
perty and unbounded liberality—the enterprise had
every possible justice done to it ; yet in each of these
three successive phases it was a losing and ruinous
business. It was not, as some imagine, the heavy
original outlay that remotely caused the final catas-
trophe. All that was over before Mr. Delafield's time;
he did not come into the concern until after a fortune
had been already sunk in it by the Persianis. Nor
was it the " extravagant salaries" that brought the
establishment to the ground ; for an examination of
the accounts discloses the most material fact, that
although the attraction continued the same in 1849
as in 1848, yet the revenue declined to such an extent
(from an aggregate of 41,0001. to 27,0001), that the
moneys taken were insufficient to defray the miscel-
laneous expenditure, even irrespectively of the salaries
of the leading artistes. There is consequently nothing
in the history of this speculation to break the force of
the broad fact, that three fortunes have been sunk—
just one per annum—in the attempt to establish a
second Italian Opera in London. We venture to pre-
sume that the obvious inference from all this is the
correct one—namely, that London does not want,
and will not support, two Italian Operas; and this
conclusion is still further borne out by the well-known
fact, that, until within a recent period, the annals of her
Majesty's Theatre have been a mere history of bank-
ruptcies and disasters. And it may be added, that
were there any reason for believing that the public
require a larger supply of operatic entertainment than
they had previously to the year 1847, the rational
mode of supplying the demand would be by increasing

the number of weekly performances, not by multiply.
ing Opera-houses. We sincerely trust that the lesson
taught by recent experience will not be disregarded ;
and we especially hope, for the sake of many old an't
admired favourites of the public, that they will not
be tempted to hazard their professional gains in that
strange sort of joint-stock speculation which we
have heard proposed—a scheme of which we will only
say that it appears to us to combine, with curious in-
felicity, the seemingly incompatible disaivantages of
the two antagonist principles of competition and corn-
111111118M.