The Sun.
London, England, 1861-12-09 00:00:00

OLD SCHOOL.

Guns. Tons. Cost when Per Ton. Per Gun.
launched.
Queen .. 100 3,104 £70,471 £23 £704
Albion .... 90 3,110 77,166 25 857
Constanco .. 50 2,132 40,891 19 818
Sybille .... 36 1,633 36,015 22 1,000
Alarm 26 912 21,026 23 808
-

object seems to be to reform the Social Science
Congresses and to make women form some part of
ithem ; but so many subjects are involved that we
are not very clear on the subject. "Ravenshoe" is
continued. Charles pays a second visit to Lord
Welter at St. John's Wood, and discovers to h:s
1
dismay that Ellen has gone nobody knows whither.
She left a kind but reproachful letter to Lord
Welter, in which she tells him that after the Lieute-
nant's 4ornby's proposal of marriage to her she dare
not remain, for fear of bringing ruin and disgrace on
the man she loves. Charles could do nothing ; and if
he went to bed the previous night with a
heavy heart, it was no lighter on the present one.
The following sketch of a restless sleepless night
will be more or less felt to be too true by most of
our readers, who have much passed the bounds of
childhood have in some degree perceived it.
What a happy place a man's bed is—probably the best
few
people
will in which he ever finds himself. Very
will like to deny that, I think ; that is to say as a
general
rule. Alter a long day's shooting in cold weather, for in-
stance; or half a night on deck among the ice, when the
fog has lifted, and the ghastly cold walls are safe in sight;
or after a 50 mile ride in a bush, under a pouring rain ; or
after a pleasant ball, when you have to pull down the
blind, that the impudent sun may not roast you awake in
two hours ; for in all these cases, and a hundred more, bed is
very pleasant ; but you know as well as I do, that there
theare times
wildest
bush
you n
twouldhe worst
abt
he
eorn,
ear
w frozensl
tm
iin the
deck,.
hall of Eblis with Vathek's mamma, or almost in your very
grave, than in bed, and awake.
hwedhyentethreesstoualh,dwrhaimehhlein
osffleeittp
wouldo h , theles vwe et ahrey
torturedwatches
s I
one's
dreams, holds on by a mere thread, yet a thread strong
waking enough
o:
dreamsto keep everye f the
pnerveas t
arein
atense v i
d agonyas
hos tlleVhoefn
sleep,
and there is always present, through all, the dreadful lurk-
ing thought that one is awake, and that it is all real I
When, looking back, every kindly impulsive action, every
heartily spoken word, makes you fancy that you have only
earned contempt where you merit kindness I Where the
past looks like a hell of missed opportunities, and the future
like another black hopeless hell of uncertainty and immi-
nent misfortune of all kinds I Oh, weary watches ! Let
us be at such times on the bleakest hill-side, in the coldest
night that ever blew, rather than in the warmest bed that
money will buy. _

When you are going to have a night of this kind, you
seldom know it before hand for certain. Sometimes, if you
have had much experience in the sort thing—if you have
lost money or gone in debt, or if your sweetheart has cut
you very often—you may at last guess, before you get
your boots off, that you are goinc, to have a night of it ; in
which case, read yourself to sleep in bed. Never mind
burning the house down (that would be rather desirable as
a distraction from thought) ; but don't read till you are
sleepy with your clothes on, and then undress, because, if
you do, you will find, by the time you have undressed
yourself, that you are terribly wide awake, and, when the
candle is blown out, you will be all ready for a regular
Walpurgis night.

Leaving our hero, we pass on to Ravenshoe. To
Father Mackworth's surprise, Cuthbert, since he
stooped to offer a bribe to him, has maintained a
reserve quite unusual to the priest, and William will,
put up with no dictation, and shows fight. William
again starts in search of Charles. Back again, to
London, and listens to a conversation between the
two swindlers. Lord Welter and Adelaide; they
ride in the Park, having matured their plan. They
have no groom, and are got up in first-rate style,
but they pass under the eye of one who could not
be deceived. That shrewd old cynic, Lord Saltier,
was looking out of a window at Lord Ascot's, and,
as they passed, turned to Marsden and said em-
phatically, ;' Now I do really wonder what infernal
mischief those two are after. There is an air of
pastoral simplicity about the whole get-up which
forbodes some very great—very great—obliquity of
moral purpose." In the park, Adelaide meets
Charles Ravenshoe, and a few quick words pass
between them. What will be the result time must
show. There is another long instalment of that
admirable soporific, " The Victories of Love."
" Paris Revisited," by one who knows it well
(second article), is very cleverly written. The des-
spotic rule of the Imperial Government of France
is forcibly depicted. The Assocations Ouvrires
which during the short-lived Republic of 1848
flourished, and when each trade had its own meet-
ing rooms for lectures and instruction, are things of
the past, even social gatherings are restricted. We
are informed that " it must not be forgotten that 25
persons cannot so much as legally dine together in
France without official permission, and that the
commissary of police has the right to be present
whenever such a portentous event takes place. The
writer considers that, at no distant day, if France
do not actually become Protestant, the religion of
the country will be materially altered. He thus
concludes his sketch of the state of affairs and the
popular feeling :
I have endeavoured to show some' of the grounds of
hope which a recent survey has seemed to show me in
Paris. I must remind the reader that, to discover them,
he must dig somewhat deep below the surface. The surface
itself is disheartening enough. A city, of which one-half
is given up to gaiety and extravagance, whilst the other
half pines for work ; an artificial stimulus given to public
works, to keep up the show of prosperity, and occupy the
dangerous classes ; an abiding, an-pervading mutual dis-
trust between the ruler and his people; an increase of
sensual indulgence in all classes, of frivolity or worse,
among the young; and ever-increasing appetite for specu-
lation, while speculation itself is becoming more and more
identified with dishonesty; an enormous military force, a
police force scarcely less enormous ; the political press
colourless and neglected ; a complete absence of everything
like public spirit ; religious ministrations frequented and
despised, the church prominent and hated ; such is the
picture which the great continental capital presented to me.
A bitter sight indeed for all who feel the weight of the pre-
sent evil; bitter above all, no doubt, to those who cannot
reach to the conviction which lies deep in the hearts of all,
though they may not venture, or care, or choose to express
it, that, sooner or later, he Third French Empire will pass
away like an evil dream.

Where lies the chief danger to it? It lies, I believe,—
and the belid was confidently expressed to me by several
informants,—in that very army, which is the mainstay of
imperial power. The Third Napoleon dare not engage in
long, still less in continual wars, lest the armyshould become
too powerful; ho dare not remain too long at peace, lest it
should become too liberal; 'he dare not reduce it over-
much, lest he should be too weak ; he dare not increase it
overmuch, for he knows very well that the more numerous
it is, the more it must become identified with the people. It
is already so identified, far more than is really imagined. I
had an °ppm tunity of listening to the familiar conversation
of two gendarmes, old soldiers (though young in age), and
it certainly was the freest I heard in France among
strangers to myself. I learnt from it what abuses of power
can be perpetrated in the military organisation of France ;
how civil despotism and the suppression of public opinion
react on the army itself; how much of manly dignity yet
remains in the soldier • how he may submit to present in-
justice and look forward to future justice: how cheap, finally,
the soldier-policeman may hold the regulations of which ho is
the minister. The talk of those two gendarmes would
alone have sufficed to how me how much of moral weak-
ness lies behind the military strength of the imperial
despotism.

Under the head of " Games at Cards for the Coming
Winter" the rules for certain games are given,
" Autobiography of a Navy" is the history of a
tramp ; there is not much point in it and no plot,
its only recommendation is its moral tendency.
Some light and agreeable lines on Life's Question,
by Henry Alford; a Letter to tilts Editor on Dr.
Lushington, Mr. Head, and the Thirty-Wino
Articles ; Anonymous Journalism, by 142 mas
Hughes ; and the Passaglia Phase of tif
Question, by Edward Dicey, complete the number.

THE WEATER.

PROBABLE BEFORE WEDNESDAY.

North Britain W.S.W. to N. and N.N.E., fresh to strong .
Ireland IV. to N.E., fresh; some snom.
Central W.S.V. to N. and N.E., fresh; rain or

snow.
East Coast W.S.W. to N. and N.E., fresh; clear.
South England. W. to. N.W., N., and E., fresh; fine.

DIVISIONS.

1. North Britain, including from the Moray Firth to the
middle of Northumberland, coastwise, and on the west,
from the Clyde to the Solway Firth.
2. Ireland, generally, around the coasts,
3. Central, from the Solway Firth, southward, along the
coast, to the Bristol Channel, inclusive.
4, East Coast, from Northumberland to the Thames,
inclusiro.
5. South England, from the Thames, round by the coast,
to the Bristol Channel, including the Channel Islands.
Only seaports and places on the coast are included.
London lies between the East Coast and South England,
therefore partakes of their climate, but in a less degree,
proportional to situation further inland,