The Sun.
London, England, 1841-07-02 00:00:00

EVENING SUN

with dangerous wounds, strove to overthrow-his
assassin ; but, weakened by loss of blood, - and
by the strong efforts he had made, he fell with-
out consciousness, with his watch and purse
upon the floor. This encounter passed off more
rapidly than related: the victim had not uttered
a cry—nevertheless the terrified assassin hurried
his flight, but, in so hastening, took only the
purse and watch, together with a little bundle
which he made of some table-cloths, handker-
chief's, and shirts, and then precipitated himself
down the stairs, and fled along the Rue de
Tourcy.
All at once a strarie incident befel his flight.
Scarce had. he got to the middle of the street
before Bechard felt the bundle he had under his
arm loosen, and several of his handkerchiefs fall,
to the ground. " Master, master," cried out a
poor woman after him, " you are losing your
linen,—here, here." The murderer, far from
dropping his speed, increased it; and the poor
woman, running to pick up the linen, found it,
stained with blood. This she immediately car-
ried to the Commissary of Police.
M. Tetu had meanwhile recovered his senses,
and raised his cries. The police, doctors, and
crowd, besieged his doors, and found him in a
deplorable state. Tetu detailed the circum-
stances, and described Bechard.
The police were immediately on the chase,
and some grave facts soon transpired, that an
individual, some hours after the crime was

committed, armed with two pistols and a
poniard, had been seized upon the informa-
tion of a common girl, as a deserter, whom exas- •
peration had rendered mad. This individual,
blood-stained, and gashed as if from recent con-
flict, was taken into custody, when he confessed
himself the perpetrator of the crime.

On being questioned as to his guilty act, he
pleaded drunkenness, and the domination of a
jealous passion over him. He stands for trial at
the next assize.

ADMONITION TO THE MIDDLE

CLASSES.
The ordinary course of human passions has some-
thing to do with the comparative apathy of the manu-
facturing operatives on this subject. The quarter from
which the agitation for repeal mainly proceeds does not
particularly recommend it to their sympathy. I say it.
with sorrow, it is a mournful but a certain truth, that the•

capitalists of Lancashire have not the sympathy of their
" labouring allies." May Ibe permitted to speak out on
this subject P lam myself a son of commerce. I think

too highly of my " order " not to be proud of the title.
I glory in the self-sustaining energy and perseverance
which distinguishes the body of men whom I now ven-
ture to address, and to whom I claim to belong. They.
have grown rich by the discoveries of noble plebeian
minds, by the natural advantages of our island, by their
own energies, and, above all, by the hearty co-operation.
of labour. They owe nothing to " Protection "—nothing
to legislative partiality. While by their exertions the

resources of the country were increased as if by magic,
in spite of the most lavish expenditure, rank and privi-
lege stood idly by, or only interfered to tax and thwart
them. They are truly the sons of labour, the architects

of their own fortunei. Let them be content with this

noble parentage, this honest distinction. Let their syms
pathies be for labour rather than titled privilege—for dug
bees of society rather than its gaudy drones.
They have no pride of birth, no prejudices of
caste to keep them aloof from their brother-men, a most
fortunate occurrence in this stage of the world, could
they but see it aright. Their place is at the head of the
people ; will the) prefer to fawn like spaniels at the
skirts of the few ? Their interest, as well as their duty,
engages them to adopt the democratic tendencies of the
age, which the circumstances connected with their own'.'
successes ha.se done no little to bring about. The days:
of aristocracy, considered as an institution for confinisig.
rank and power to a class of men on fictitious and con-
ventional grounds, are rapidly passing away. " When
the people," says Dr. Charming, " by degrees have
risen to some consciousness of their essential equality
with the rest of their race, the awe of rank naturally
subsides, and passes into suspicion, jealousy, sense-
of injury, and a disposition to resist. The very insti-
tution which once restrained, now provokes. Througha
this process the old world is now passing. The strange*
illusion, that a man, because he wears a garter or a ritb _
bon, or was born to a title, belongs to another race, is
fading away ; and society must pass through a series'. of
revolutions, silent or bloody, until a more natural of der
takes place of distinctions, which grew originally or it of
force." And again : " Old spells are broken .1 oli t re-
liances gone ; men can no longer be kept de,wn in/ pa-
geantry, state robes, forms, and shows. Allowing it
to be best that society should rest urn the depres-
sions of the multitude, the multitude wsal no longer be
quiet when they are trodden under fsset, but ask impa-
tiently for a reason why they, too, may not have a share
in social blessings. Such is the 'state of things, and. .we
must make theliest of what we cannot prevent." Such
being the case, I call upon you, the rich capitalists of
Lancashire, to consider whether, by your position, you.
are not eminently fitted to play an important part at this.
crisis : to stand, as it were, between the living and the
dead—betwixt the worn-out principles of feudality, and
those of democracy rising into sudden yet not sufficiently
acknowledged importance. I believe you might do,
much to alleviate the fall of the one, and to direct, while
you restrained, the boisterous vigour of the other. For
as by reason of your wealth and the habits and notions
it inspires, you could have no tendency to rush
into wild revolutionary excesses, so on the other hand
you have no pride of birth, no hereditary prejudices to
prevent you from taking the people by the hand, and
assisting them in working out their moral and political
regeneration. Oh ! it would be a noble thing to see an
alliance offensive and defensive established betwixt you
and your numerous workmen ; an alliance founded upors
mutual sympathy and respect, upon an interchange or
good offices, a conviction that your interests are ides,-
tical, that you are all alike the sons of labour, that the
haughty claims which rank and privilege have handed
down from barbarous ages are foreign and hostile to,
you, and that the spirit of monopoly, whether developed.
in politics, religion, or commerce, is one and the same,,
and fraught with evil consequences, not merely to the,
stability of trade, but to the moral dignity of man ; not.
merely to the material, but also to the moral and social
well-being of the most numerous class of God's creatures-
But betwixt you and the " masses," who toil and
groan beneath you, there is at present a great gulph
fixed ; a gulph too, mainly caused and daily widened,
by your selfish vanity and mistaken ambition. 1.119
must needs, forsooth, play the aristocrats, and echo the
jargon and pander to the prejudices of the " great." To
win the smiles of " Lords," to gain an uneasy footing
in the brilliant circles of rank, seems to be the highest
object of plebeian ambition. The man who in his count-
ing-house is all honour, energy, and independence, loses
his self-respect beneath the fascination of this bad social
system, and sinks into the cringing parvenu. He affects
to speak and think of the multitude as if he had lolled
all his life in patrician ease, and never known the bitter-
ness of poverty, or the wholesome glow of honest toil. I
suppose I shall be told that these aristocratic tendencies.
are inherent in our nature. I know it, but they are not
the less to be resisted on that account ; besides, they are
in this case attended with the most disastrous results, be-
cause, by indulging them, you commit yourselves to the
support of political institutions, unsuited to the spirit of
the age and the acquirements of the people. On the
other hand, you are far from being popular with your
" noble" allies. The Conservative Journals vie wick
those which represent the sentiments of the " masses "
in loading you with reproaches. Your present agitation
against commercial monopoly is generally ascribed
to the most unworthy motives. How can it be c,th er-
wise ? Have you not voluntarily descended from the
mercenary con
selves in the dust and dirt of a purely
mills could be worked. to a
vantage-ground of a high principle and involved your-
flict ? For so long as your
hese
beneath you, you.
profit by applying the screw_ t
pursuefacittsioncossu-ritsle;
unimpeded, and professed Jour"of the country. Then it
the " venerable institutionts
satisfaction
permitted aristocratic legislattitoanatteire
so much about the miseries
was the fashion to talk,
not
and their extravagance, and
of the poor as of their
new
restrain their excesses. Truly,
purify their Ter sbe
saved by barristers, eceleiiastica,,
if a country
is
tohe redemption of ours draws nigh.' But,.
new churches anddlne aces
sprang up side by side to
and constables,
of " monopoly" have been brought
since the evil effects
home to yourselves, you have discovered that labourliaa
ts claims, that the distresses ofthe
• • that parsons and police are
grie,:anes
not imaeanary , e
itsmany are t"
not altogether _ the emergencies of their case.
l The rue Cure of Monopoly, a spirited, judicious
Pamphlet.e, adequate to

We have recently seen a description of a light
apparatus for saving. lives from stranded vessels, and
ede Rvo) ytailLnetce:ntbL-y
from vessels in a sinking state at sea, constructed and.
brought into practice by Lieputearinsa.nt.TThheomarapsarliatiusbse:
R.N., Honorary Vice-President
steo.afrL
situation, and
7tltaiiwpg°p°llneatal or
rn
hdeitall:l:cilyn:teri Institution,elpeaeltkeedanntod iTimmeet
' first communication has been effected by means of
Manby's AppFatus or Dennett's Rockets. It will be
found useful in life and other boats, where there are
obstacles to their going alongside ; and at see,
when a boat cannot with safety be lowered . down.
The apparatus consists of a net made of small line
capable of bringing a woman and child, or a man with
his bag, on shore. A float or circular buoy, its dia-
meter 32 to 34 inches, under diameter 20 to 22 inches,
diameters of its sections full 7 and 5 inches, cir-
cumference 19 ; made of juncus effusus covered with un-
bleached calico, dressed with three coats of oil or thin
paint, weighing six or seven pounds, and is quite o.ofleienrt
to keep a man's head and shoulders above water a sea-
way, together with the weight of line that must oec ally
)ai
bear upon it. The float may also be secured to t oop
of the net, and this has been tried on ._wo oc-
casions with a man in it through the surrat Yar-
mouth." A pair of petticoat trousers mtoe of . Skint
canvas alike before and behind, the Waistband 14
inches wide, and the depth from the top of the band
to the centre of the clutch 21 to 22 inches, which
when laced to a hoop and fitted to the float! will admit
of the latter reaching close up under the arms of a good-
sized man. Lieut. Kisbee has also proposed a sort of
telegraph by night, and from the result of expe'rlinenta
made, the words Look for a line—haul in if ready, shout,
&c., have been read 150 yards off very distinctly, or 200
yards, a distance within which the greater number of ves-
sels are stranded.—Naval and Military Gazette • .. . •
BRUSSELS, JUNE 30.—The average prim of
Wheat last week was 17f. 94e., and that of Rye 10f. 1,3%, per
[ hutolitre. .