The Sun.
London, England, 1858-05-07 00:00:00

LONDON, __FRIDAY _E V E _

THE DANUBIAIir PRINCIPALITIES.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN.

SlR,—Last Monday the members' of the Euro-
pean Commission officially took leave of his High-
ness
the Prince Caimacan. Sir Henry Bulwer, as
President during the last month, spoke kind
and thankful words to the Camaican, who
received the commission among all the civil and
mil.tary authorities of the town. At the end of this
week all the commissioners will leave the country.
Lady Bulwer departed last Saturday.
At this moment it may be of some interest
to contemplate the conduct of the Wal-
lachian Government during their residence at
Bucharest. Nobody can deny that the Caimacan's
position was particularly delicate and difficult. It
is said to be a bad thing to be between two chairs.
What must it be, then, to ba between seven ? for
seven chairs, seven political chairs, surrounded
Prince Alexander Ghika. It must, therefore,
be looked upon as a sign of remarkable
prudence, and of purely legal proceedings,
that the Caimacan succeeded in keeping the
esteem, or rather the friendship, of all of the
CJramissioners. These diplomatists arrived in
this country at a very critical moment, when the
whole population was in a state of great excite-
ment, which was, however, considerably increased
by the attitude of some of the members of the
Commission. They found the Caimacan actually
surrounded. with intrigues ; his position equally
ruined by the treacherous accusations of the friends
de Vander regime (who urged to make, under the
command of the former hospodars, a too well orga-
nised opposition), and by the imprudent acts of an
ultra-patriotic and national faction which endea-
voured to compromise the rather liberal-minded
Prince. Under such circumstances, the Caimacan
showed a great impartiality, left the groundless
accusations unanswered till their falsehood was
naturallydetected, and succeeded in moderating the
fatigue of the national party in giving a just occa-
sion to complaint against his measures. The
elections for the Divan ad hoc took place
without any illegal participations of the
local authorities ; and if the Divan proceeded
in a very imprudent manner, it cannot be imputed
to the Caimacan to have either encouraged or sus-
tained their doings. Since the dissolution of this
assembly, the Caimacan continued to conduct the
government- in a respectable and lawful way, so
that nobody can accuse him of showing any immo-
derate condescension for any of the existing parties

Such was and is Alexander Ghika's conduct in
the political circumstances ; let us equally look
upon the Prince's interior administration. N otwith-
standing the etat provision of the Government,
which made any important reform almost impos-
sible, a good many things have been done. The
foundation of the National Academy was effected, a
military hospital built, the old metropolis, which
was in a shameful state, repainted. The pavement
of Bucharest is projected. At Ibraila, a society
for increasing the export was formed, &c. If
one considers with how many difficulties the
Government had to fight, if one knows
how few. were the pecuniary means they had
at their disposal, one must confess that they really
showed a serious intention of bringing the country
into a progressive way.
It.has, therefore, been very painfully remarked
that in one part of the European press accusations
against the Caimaean have arisen, which are of too
grave a character to remain unanswered. The
Impartial de Smyrne and the Gazette de Francfort
began to bring articles against the honesty
of the Government, and accused them with
having committed numberless abuses during
the last farming of the land estates of the
monasteries. The Impartial de Smyrne calcu-
lates the, amount of these abuses to be 176,000,
and the Gazette de Franefort 900,000 ducats. I
should not mention these accusations, the authors
of which are well known at Bucharest, ha I not the
correspondents of the above-mentioned papers found
a friend and companion in the Daily News' own
correspondent. An article in the English press is
a serious thing, and must be considered so. Every-
body knows that the two above-mentioned journals
receive direct communication from Paris, Stirbey,
and Bibesco ; but it is, indeed, a pity to see a re-
spectable organ of England's free and independent
press actually publishing correspondence of such
an importance fur the hone ur of a respected man,
without asking further and decisive proofs.
The Daily News' correspondent estimates the
defalcation at 700,000 ducats. How well in-
formed those three accusators are, who all three
profess to have special and accurate informa-
tion ! One fixes the sum at 176,000, the other
at 700,000, and the third at 900,000 ducats. Who
is right of the three ? lam able to give you an
exact and authentic account of the alluded to farm-
ing—in
biens conventucas ; but to-day I will only.
sketch the outlines of this result. In the gum-
qui.nnial period the estates brought a rent of
5,678,793 piastres ; for the actual period, and
through the pretended abuses, they bring
6,128,795 piastres more, i,e., a total rent of
11,807,590 piastres ! Facta lopuntur.
A FOREIGNER IN WALLACHIA.
Bucharest, Aprill6.

ALLEGED REFUSAL TO ADMIT A DEPU
TATION OF RATEPAYERS TO VIEW
ST. PANCRAS WORKHOUSE.

Yesterday at the the weekly meeting of the vestry
of St. Pancras, which was of a very stormy character
Mr. Churchwarden Attanborough in the choir.
On the question of electing a director of the poor who
was not a member of the vestry, in consequence of Mr.
Wyatt, late churchwarden, being put up as a candidate,
and which is alleged to be illegal, a considerable dis-
cussion ensued, and at its conclusion, the next order of
the day being carried,
Mr. HUDSON said be had in reference to the work-
house to bring forward a very serious matter. A com-
plaint was made out of doors and in public meeting, that
a deputation of ratepayers had been refused admission
to the workhouse, and the master was alleged to haVe
stated that he had special orders from the directors to
refuse to admit deputations, although ratepayers, to go
over the workhouse. (Hear, hear, and Oh, ob.)
Mr. DYKE moved, and Mr. GOODWIN seconded, a
motion that ;he master be called in at once. (Hear.)
The CHAIRMAN said he should decline to put such a
motion ; but Me. Dyke could give notice. (Cries of
Shame, and uproar.) After considerable confusion, it
was insisted upon that the master cf the workhouse
should be called in, and
Mr. WINSLOW, the master appeared, and in anweer to
questions put to bine by Mr. Hudson, said he bad no
order from the directors not to admit deputations of rate-
payers. A. deputation did come to the workhouse, and
understanding they were going to hold an investigation in
the workhouse, he refused to allow them to come in and
do so without an order from the directors. He sent the
parties to Mr. Hibbard, the clerk to the directors, and
he tole them that the master had no right to allow them
to do so. (Loud cries of ," Hear, hear," from the
directors.)
Mr. Dyic said that shout of "Hear, hear," came
iron the same men who two or three years ago entered
and ransacked the workhouse at all hours of the night,
to try to get up a case against the then authori-
ties, and now they themselves feared investigation.
(Cheers and contusion.) He dreianded of the master to
know what was the investigation the deputation re-
quired to make.
The marter paid it was in relation to a man being em-
ployed to pull a roller about the garden. (Shouts of
laughter from the directors cf the poor.)
Mr. HUDSON said this indulgence in laughter 1, ~y• the
directors did not speak much for their inhumanity.
Dr. KIRBY moved that the master retire, which was
n seconded amidst shouts of " Shame" in the vestry
and gallery, and great uproar, and carried on a division
by 42 to 27.
Mr. FINCIIAM said the directors were afraid of
in-
quiryeand the fact was that the poor man co employed
was doubly ruptured, and wear in a most dreadful con-
dition. Sc much for humanity. (Great uproar.)
The ballot fur directors stood thus :—Mr.
Mr. Furnk,s 29, Mr. Thornton 1. Wyatt- 46,

ANOTHER MEDICAL PROFESSION BILL.—A third
Medical 3i I bas been brought in by Mr. T. S. Don-
corn be, 1.1. P. It is to be called the " Medical Pro-
fession Rights Act," and to commence on the Ist of
(3etof,er, Every member c f the profession may be
registersd if he think fit, and every practitioner qua
b.,ftire the 1-t cf December, 1858, will be en-
title.' to be registered on producing the document a•-
testing his, qualificaton ; or, if he be a p,
1815 rson who
actuaf 19 to the Practised medicine prior Ist of Atign-4,
a declaration to that effect will be sufficient.
The 9.,,en is
empowered to extend the privilege of
e
gra6ti diplomas to new medical bodies of 500 and up-
wards, "1 rovided examining bodies do not
pro ytte
"lea" to nab'e the public to realize with
ty that the examination by those br,cl,e3 tests suffi-
ciently k required f.r the safety of the
pu„ now eGge .
41e. Foreign, physicians may be registered under this
Act if they', car, produce a testimonial signed by 12 mein-
h-eta 7o' the Pr+ fassion (registered n let the Act) t at they.
4e gained a degree or diploma, of er an examine.
;'in, equivalent to those which are enforced by the co!
iVeS in this ceuntry. The registration wi I be carried
')at under the Rs;istrar-General. Unregistered persons
Sill be disqualified Isom haling certain offhos, and re-
ti,tered pranitioners may sue for and recover reason-
able ch_irges for professional aid, advice, visits, and the
clst of medicines and appliances. The act is not to pre-
judi e chemists and druggists.
A BOY DECAPITATED IN A FLOUR MILL—A fright-
ful accident occurred on Wednesday morning, the 6.h
inst., at Lenton, a village one mile from Nottingham.
Absut nine o'clock a boy named Rowland, seven years
of age, went to the Old Abbey fl Air-mill, occupied by
Mr. Kinchin, aid became entangled by a chain con- ,
fleeted with the machinery, which being at work at the
time, dragged the unf-)rtuunte boy to the ceiling, proi..
sing his throat to such an ixtent that, when ixtricat. d,
the head literally fell from the body, and both thighs
were broker. Toe deceased had been frequently cau-
Coned no; to enter the mill.

As the absence of Messrs. Millais and Goodall
from among the ranks of the Associates, and of Sir
Charles Eastlake, together with Messrs. Dyce,
Herbert, and lVfaclise from among those of the
the Royal Academicians, cannot but be most deeply
regretted in the midst of the otherwise almost un-
alloyed pleasure derived from the present remark-
able and superb Exhibition, it is but just to add
at once that for the regrets excited by their collec-
tive omission from the Catalogue of Exhibitors, we
are wondrously consoled, we had almost said amply
compensated, by the extraordinary development of
the genius, or rather, it should be more accurately
expressed, perhaps the astonishing advance made
in its revelation, in the instance of one or two other
Associates, and in that cf several others, of the
Royal Academicians.
Beyond all question, to our thinking, the Picture
of the Exhibition is Ar. Frith's great painting of
" The Derby Day." It is undeniably his master-
piece. It is as undeniably a grand national work
of art—reflecting the "living manners as they
rise," reflecting them as in a glass, the very mirror
of genius held up to Nature, a vivid representation
of " Ye Manners and ye Customes of ye Englishe"
in this nineteenth century. It is worthy of a coun-
tryman of Hogarth, worthy of an artist who wit-
nessed the closing scenes of the life of Wilkie,
worthy of an observer who enjoys with the rest of
us the delight of being a contemporary of Charles
Dickens and Makepeace fhackeray. Here, on
this comprehensive canvass of William Powell
Frith, R.A., future times will find pourtrayed
vividly, exquisitely, the English as they actually
are now-a-days. The persons introduced upon the
scene are of all chases and ranks is the social scale
—from the nobles and the peeresses in their embla-
zoned carriages, to the squalid gamins de Londres
on an "out" upon the great day of the Isthmian
or Olynipic Games of the Briton—from the Lord
Yerisophts and Ethel Newcomes of High Life, to
the Rough and the Shat per, the low t.lackguard
and the itinerant mountebank. In the background
is the Grand Stand, with its inclined plane
of well-packed sightseers. Scattered about
on the right are the barouches, and the
landaus, and the stanhops, the britzic has, and
chariots, and phaetons of the Ns ell-to-do, not for-
' getting glimpses of—

" Whisky, buggy, gig, or go-cart,
Curricle or tandem,"
indulged in by the less ambitious participators in
the great national holiday. Above the heads of
the motley concourse are caught peeps here and
there of the satin-jacketted jockeys guiding their
high-mettled racers off the course—now that the
race of the day (of the whole year) is over. An
antic tumbler in his spangled doublet, on one knee,
with his arms outstretched, bawls to his little
tinselled acrobat of a son to run to him along the
outspread strip of carpet on the ground and begin
the performances. The boy acrobat is, perhaps,
the prettiest figure in all this marvellous picture—
although elsewhere among its crowd of characters
may be seen grouped about, in most admired dis-
order, some of the loveliest of the blooming maidens
of Mayfair. iThe little mountebank is the merest
child—the child, too, of the great, coarse, open-
mouthed tumbler, Who waits there, roaring to him
to " come on !" His eye has been caught at the
moment of his intended run for the coming summer-
sault by the good things emptied out upon the
damask table cloth, half opened, hard by him on
the turf—the cold grouse, the perigord-pie, the
scarlet lobster, the litter of lunch-rolls, the very
bundle of knives handed out of the magic hamper
by the dappergroorn, who is getting ready the least
for the carriage occupants. Catching a sight of
these good things, the poor child stands there for
the moment spell-bound—with a look askance,
though we know for certain that in another minute
he will he heels-over-head, balancel in mid air
on the upraised hands of the brawny paternal
acrobat. Further back the little sister
mountebank, on stilts, is being indulged with a
draught of her " First Champagne" by a hatless
exquisite, whose towzled hair shows that he him-
self has quaffed over much of the singing nectar of
Moot or Clicquot. Immediately to the left is
the gaudy booth of the "Reform Club," before the
porch of which has been set up for an instant by
particular desire tl.-.e peripatetic table of a gang of
Thimble Riggers—unobserved by a neighbouring
Peeler, whose attention is absorb d in mopping
his blowsed face with a cotton handkerchief. The
magicians of the pea are veritable types of their
class—of the turf, turfy, their conversation (as
you can somehow tell from their very boots and
neckcloths) lying evidently in the slangular direc-
tion. A comely, ruddy-faced, blonde-whiskered,
young countryman, whose lass tries in vain to lure
him away from temptation, has hooked up the
skirt of his smock, has dived-his fist deep into his
breeches pocket, and with a glance of interest over
his shoulder, is evidently muttering, " I'm longed
if Oi couldn't foiud thu pea youuder !" Aod yet
there, close beside him, face to face with us a 4 we

look at the group—there, with bis hat pushed
gabyly back on his forehesd, his slatternly waist-
coat unbuttoned, both his hands thrust into his
pockets, but obviously with a different purpose—
his face in every line of it utterly blank and stupi-
fied—stands a poor little "gent, green and callow
in his very whiskers, who has risked everything, and
been thoroughly "cleaned out." Yonder is the bare-
.

footed, red-c-oaied card-touter, with his big hand up
to the side of his jowl, bellowing the " C'rect card
of the Races," so that one feels half-deafened to
look at him. Further along there are two of those
extremely popular gentlemen, the Refugees—
hooded, braided, bearded—specimens of the genus
facetiously described by Mr. Albert Smith under
the generic designation of " Mussoo 1" There they
are, in the throng but not of it—looking about
them less gratified in any way than utterly bewil-
dered and uncomprehending. Leaning with his back
against a carriage door is a slightly exhausted ex-
quisite—lazily puffing his cigar fumes from under
the covert of that dandy moustache, as he glances
down, with a sort of ineffably careless wonder, on
the gipsy girl accosting him—doubtless with an
eye to the first elementary trick of chiromancy.
A. love scene is there by the door of another car-
riage—a love scene it might be between Clive and
Ethel, between David and Dora, at their best and
youngest, with the first down on the lip, and the
earliest crispness in the crinoline. Close beside
them are some lustrous exemplars of the genus,
S well—to a costermonger's eye supernally equipped
and divinely handsome. Such a picture as it is
altogether ! A painting so full of life, of character,
of fun, frolic, and animation, so true, so real, so
actual, so all but living and breathing—that all we
have here said about it can be only described as afford-
ing the merest glimpses of the motley and marvel-
lous whole. There is one Hogarth of the pencil
among us who will assuredly revel in the contem-
plation of it, who will thoroughly enjoy and appre-
ciate it : meaning no other, of course, than John
Leech, of the London Charivari. Here, indeed, is
a picture enough of itself not only to make a repu-
tation, but to make a great reputation. It is,
beyond all the other pictures in this splendid exhi-
bition, the principal attraction, the source of uni
versa] amusement, and the object of universal
admiration. Mr. Frith has contributed but
this one painting to the collection, but it is
one which is in itself a veritable microcosm. It
h numbered in the catalogue No. 218, but
as a success its real number is undoubtedly
No. I.A. As undoubtedly as that the B. ought to
be applied to a triple painting of marvel]. )us power
and exquisite feeling from the easel of a distin-
guished Associate of the Academy—who will assu-
redly not have to wait long upon the next vacancy
for his enrolment as an Academician. The pictur e
we refer to will have been recognised upon the in-
stant by those who have already visited the gal-
lery as—No. 372—as far as any title is concerned,
a blank in the catalogue. It is the production of
Augustus Leopold Em, A.R A., who has another
work, also of great merit, in the collection, No.
19, "Scene from Thack€ray's History of Henry
Esmond, E,q.":—to wit, an illustration of a meme-
rable incident in that charming fictitious autobio-
graphy—" Kneel down," says Mrs. Beatrix, " we
dub you knight with this," and she waved the
sword over his head. A picture mellow and radiant
in colouring, tender and natural in sentiment,
graceful and unaffected in composition. But No.
372 is Mr. Egg's greatest triumph in art—as yet
his masterpiece. How can it be described ?—this
painting which is a tragedy in one glance ; a mourn-
ful narrative of sin atid domestic sorrow told in a
minute, the minute consumsd in looking from one
to the other of the three pictures making the sad'
total of this terrible London Trilogy. The centre
painting is a glimpse of the "Past." We are look-
ing into an elegazit drawing room, among the pic-
tures on whose walls we iesognise Stanfield's nobie
painting of the "Abandono."—word of significant '
and evil omen ! The le Ahern travelling-bag, um-
brella, dsc., littered in one corner of the foreground
tell us that the Master of the House has but just
returned home. He is seated at the round table—
pale, haggard, dejected--an open letter grasped in
the hand that rests upon his knee : his lady wife
stretched upon the carpet at his feet, her face buried
in her clasped hands, her hair dishevelled in
an agony of sudden shame, though', as the sequel
tells, not of contrition. There is a touching little
episodical group in the background. The children
of this ill-fated pair —two sweet little girls—are
playing with some cards upon the cushion of one
of the chairs. They have placed a volume (it is
a volume of Balzac, by the way !) upon the seat,
and on that weird foundation they are building
up a house: of cards. They are startled from I