The Sun.
London, England, 1858-12-29 00:00:00

and we give every credit to the Governmerit for
the laudable endeavour to " nip it in
the bud," before the misguid _d. young
men engaged therein had irrevocabi committed
themselves by acts tlaßt might have placed their
r lives in jeopardy. The prosecute( n nay break
down. No jury will believe a single statement pro-
ceeding from Mr. DANIEL SULLIVAN, al'ias GOULD,
although he did declare that " he would beg his
bread before he would become an informer—that if
he got money from the prisoners he would not
prosecute—and that, whatever wealth he would
get from the Government, he would not stain the
blood of his ancestors !" But although the accused
may be acquitted, a valuable lesson has been taught
to the foolish young men who think it a fine
thing to be concerned in plots against the State
which might never come to anything. It will con-
vince them that they cannot guard themselves
against traitors, and that those loudest in profes-
sion, and most eager for action, will be the first
to desert their cause and become secret emissaries
of the Government they are conspiring to over-
throw; that whatever honour there may be amongst
thieves, there will be none amongst the soi disant
patriots, or those who are sufficiently gullible to
believe that a regiment of American or French
fillibusters could, even with the assistance of a few
hundred or thousand discontented clerks, or rather
grocers' assistants and labourers, conquer Ireland,
and constitute it an independent republic. It
is fortunate that the bubble has burst, that
the delusion has been so easily and so
completely dispelled before any serious mis-
chief could be effected. It is sixty years since
the landing of a French army in the west of
Ireland, and although disaffection prevailed
throughout the entire country, it was speedily
accounted for. Every other attempt, from the
days of ROBERT EMMETT, of the contest at
Carriganimmy—for which 23 men were sentenced
to death at the same time in the dock at Cork—of
the Doneraile Conspiracy, to the Battle of the
Cabbage Garden, have all proved equally abortive.
The valorous young " 'prentices" have received a
lesson—without the aid of musket, bayonet, or
halter—and for that we are indebted to the timely
prosecutions adopted by a Government that acted
on the equitable principle that "prevention was
better than punishment."

Criminal Photography was only the other day
the suggestive heading of a paragraph going the
round of the public newspapers—a paragraph de-
scriptive of the successful application of photography
to the capture, at Douglas, in the Isle of Man, of a
commercial traveller from Worcester, charged, even
in September last, with embezzlement. The cir-
cumstances under which this particular capture,
however, was effected, are really and truly, we
believe, not by any means unusual under the present
police arrangements. At any rate, it is certainly
not the first instance of the kind upon record, in
connection with that elaborated spiderous web of
the police system spun from its central point in
Scotland-yard, and extending its ingenious rami-
fications all over this island of ours. Incidentally,
before now, criminals, we believe, have been identi-
fied by means of a similar guide furnished to the
modern detective—that improved edition of the
old Bow-street runner. Just as Policeman X, in his
oil-skinned hat and blue surtout, prowling lynx-
eyed about our midnight streets, is somewhat of an
improvement upon the old somniferous Charley of
the times of our grandfathers—that Verges and
Dogberry rolled into one, and buttoned up sopori-
fically in a frowzy greatcoat, as many-caped as an
onion or a winter cabbage, snoring in his watch-
box as sound as a church, as deaf as a post, and as
stupid as an owl whenever he chanced to be
wakened. In proportion, indeed, to the ad-
vance and development of art, science, and
general civilisation,:the guardianship of the public
peace, the improvement of the laws, and the syste-
matic repression of criminality, have been subjected
to a series of improved and constantly improving
regulations. All this, however, is merely the per-
petual application of new forces to the attainment,
more rapidly and more effectually, of the results
originally arrived at by much simpler means. A
wonderful means of communication was suddenly
afforded to the police system a few years back, by
the creation of the electric telegraph. That magical
agency was first applied to the capture of a great
criminal, in the instance of the murderer TAWELL,
upon the line of railway extending from the
Slough station to the terminus at Paddington.
Since then this same wondrous messenger has been
employed by the police systematically—not alto-
gether as systematically as could be wished, but
still to a very considerable extent. The period,
however, is not far removed from us, we may re,t
perfectly well assured, when all the police stations
in the metropolis will be connected together by
electric <i ires, so as to be brought at once—the
whole of them—into instant communication with
Sir RICIIARD MAYNE and his officials at head-
quarters. Precisely the same simple contrivance,
we trust may before long bring the whole
fire brigade of the capital, scattered though it is
piecemeal over the length and breadth of the metro-
polis, at the different engine-stations, under
the instantaneous command of Mr. BRAIDWOOD and
his immediate assistants. And as it has been, to
a certain extent, in the police system, with regard
to the electric telegraph, so in a cursory way it has
been hitherto also with that system in regard to
the art of photograph. The assistance derivable
from that art, nevertheless, admits, in this parti-
cular, we cannot but think, of immediate and
extraordinary development.
Everybody remembers that scene in the career
of the immortal Mr. PICKWICK—the scene described
with such exquisite humour by Boz, and illustrated
in a congenial spirit by the pencil of PlllZ—when,
upon that great man's first entrance into the oh

Fleet Prison, he passes one mysterious quarter o

an hour in an antechamber sitting for his likeness.
" Here," in this anteroom, writes the Great His-
torian of the Club—" Mr. PicKwicK was apprised
that he would remain until he had undergone the
ceremony, known to the initiated, as sitting for

your portrait.' Sitting for my portrait !' said Mr,
PICKWICK. Having your likeness taken, Sir,

replied thestout turnkey. We're capital hands at

likenesses here. Take 'cm in no time, and always
exact. Walk in, sir, and make yourself at home."

Whereupon, after a few characteristic and philoso-

phical remarks have fallen from Mr. WELLER, as

he stands behind his master's chair, we learn more
at length how it was Mr. PICKWICK became aware
that his sitting had commenced. " The stout
turnkey baying been relieved from the lock, sat

down, and looked at him carelessly from time to
time ; while a long, thin man, who had relieved

him, thrust his hands beneath his coat tails, and
planting himself opposite, took a good long view of
him. A third rather surly-looking gentleman,
who had apparently been disturbed at his tea—
for he was disposing of a last remnant of
a crust and butter when he came in—
stationed himself close to Mr. PicKwicx ; and
resting his hands on his hips, inspected him nar-
rowly, while two others mixed with the group, and •
studied his features with most intent and thought.