The Sun.
London, England, 1861-01-05 00:00:00

TIE ARIIII.

Orders have been issued by the military authorities at
Portsmouth to discontinue for the future all shot and shell
practice from the 6 and 8 inch guns of the auxiliary battery
at the east end of Stokes-bay. This order has been given
in consequence of a nearly spent shot having glanced off
the surface of the water from its true course, and struck
the Emerald, Southampton passenger steamer, a rather
sharp blow on the port quarter, doing it considerable da-
mage, but luckily striking no one board . The targets were
laid out in nearly a direct lino between the battery and
Ityde pier, and considerable traffic in sailing vessels and
steamboats was continually crossing the line of fire, so that
it was almost marvellous that accidents have not occurred
before. The greatest danger has arisen from the fragments
of exploded shell, of which no skill in gunnery could fore-
tell their ultimate destination.

A public mess dinner was given last night at the [Loyal
Marine quarters, Woolwich, by the officers of the division,
to take leave of Major-General Stransham, late com.
mandant, on his promotion and retirement from the com-
mand. The whale of the officers off duty were present, and a
number of congratulatory toasts were drunk in compliment
to their late and present commandants.

Colonel Campbell, who has succeeded to the command of
the division of Royal Marines at Woolwich, has issued an
order relieving the office clerks of his departments from
their official duties from Saturday evening until Monday
morning, the attendance at the office having been hitherto
exacted during the entire Sunday with the same punctuality
as ou other days of the week,

Bishop—Well, I believe Rot.
Mr. Griffin—Ha, I thought so, my lord; and so
be is a most wicked character. Come, my lord, by
the virtue of your solemn oath. had he sent his chil-
dren to the schools would he have been ever evicted,
or would those unfortunate creatures, whose cries
and lamentations still ring in our horrified ears,
and vibrate through our frames—would they, my
lord, be now outcasts had they sent their children
to these proselytising schools ? Come now.
Bishop—Well, I solemnly swear that I never di-
rectly or indirectly, interfered with the religion of
the tenants ; but my sole object was to stripe the
land, and to prevent the interference of Mr. Lavelle,
who was acting as landlord. (Fearful sensation.)
Mr. Griffin—Oh ! you never interfered, directly
or indirectly. What, then, means the establishment
of these schools at all ? What means so many Scrip-
ture readers, and lads of that kind ? What means
those constant visits amongst the tenantry, the
threats of eviction, the breaking of doors, the hid-

ing of parents ? Is all this "non-interference ?"
But you say, my lord, that your object was to
stripe the land ?

Bishop—Yes.
Here Mr. Griffin took what he called his printed
brief, and began to read out the names of the
evicted tenants whose land was already striped, but
he was interrupted.
Mr. Griffin—Well, my lord, you say it was all
for striping the land, but on looking over this
printed list (Mr. Lavelle's pamphlet), I find the
land of every single person is striped, but that of
two. How, then, could the object be to stripe the
land ?—No answer. _ _

Mr. Griffin—Really, this is something extraordi-
nary. Well, my lord, you see the Rev. Mr. Lavelle
here • I darn Amy you have pa pagieular affection
for

Bishop—Well, I have no great reason. (Laughter.)
Mr. Griffin—No • he has exposed to an indignant
world the vile workings of proselytism, and canting,
and soul-jobbing carried on in Partry. I believe I
am correct in stating that on his arrival in the parish
these cherished schools of yours were fall up of
children.

Bishop—Yes ; I believe there was a very large
number in attendance there. _ _ _

Mr, Griffin—Has that number decreased since ?
Bishop—Well, yes.
Mr. Griffin—Now, my lord, by the virtue of
your oath, has not this numerous attendance of the
young Papist children of your tenantry dwindled
down to the insignificant number of three—namely,
the master, the mistress, and the Tourmakeady
piggery-boy ? (Shouts of laughter.)—No answer.
Mr. Griffin—Come now, my lord, is not that a
fact that the master, the mistress, and the piggery-
boy make up the sum total of attendance this day
at those schools ?

Bishop—Really, I don't know.
Mr. Griffin—You don't know ! Why, do you
mean, my lord, to imply that during your two years'
absence from Partry land you never made any in-
quiries about the progress of these schools ?
Bishop—Well, really, I don't know.
Mr. Griffin—l take it then as a fact that things
are as I say; and no wonder therefore that you
should cherish no feeling of special predilection for
my rev. client. But, my lord, you said you did not
interfere directly or indirectly with the religion of
your tenants—that you did not force them to send
their children to your schools—that word " force" is
rather strong, and sounds badly. But did you ever
impress your " earnest desire" on the parents that
the children should go to your schools ? And did
you impress this " earnest desire" upon them at
every opportunity ?
Bishop (warmly)—l did, and will continue to do
so. (Fearful sensation in court.)
Mr. Griffin—You, a landlord of tenants-at-will,
impress your "earnest desire" upon them that they
should send their little ones to these proselytising
schools.

Bishop—l did, and I will. (Renewed sensation.)
Mr. Griffin—Schools in which the Protestant
religion is taught to those children. Good heavens!
do I hear aright ? Are they not what are called
" Irish Church Mission Schools ?" And is it to these
schools that you would impressupon your tenantry
at every opportunity your " earnest desire" of send-
ing their unfortunate children ?
t, Bishop—Yes ; the Bible is read in them.
Mr. Griffin—Oh, my lord, this is fearful. Every
word of this will ring through the Times, and your
lordship has got into the Times already. Do you
perceive any real difference, my lord, between the
" earnest desire" of a landlord, such as your lord-
ship, " impressed" as it has been on his tenantry,
and the most positive command ?
Bishop—No, it is no command.
Mr. Griffin—Oh no, not in words. But, my lord,
I think, and evade it as you will, every right-minded
man breathing will pronounce it nothing less than
a most stringent command. How would you like
yourself, my lord, that one who had power of life
and death over you, would impress such an earnest
desire on you to bring up your children in the
abominations of Popery ? This is really fearful.
Above all when you bear in mind what agencies
carried out this earnest desire. But, my lord, as
you talk of the Bible, may I ask are you wellversed
in the writings of Chillingworth ? (Great merri-
ment.)
No answer.
Mr. Griffin—Does he not define the Protestant
religion to be the Bible ? (Continued laughter.)
Here the learned barrister interfered, as Chilling-
worth had nothing to do with the case.
Mr. Griffin—Your worship, sure I only wanted
to show, from his own admissions, that in these
schools were the young Papists of Partry crammed
down with the Protestant religion, which the illus-
trious divine has defined in one word to be nothing
more nor less than the Bible. (Roars of laughter.)
Well, sir, as I'll not be allowed to invoke Chilling-
worth, of course there can be no, objection to St.
Paul. (Taking up the Bible ; again roars of laugh-
ter.) Here now, my lord, in St. Paul to Timothy,
First Epistle, c. iii., and again to Titus—(great
laughter)—we find a description of what a good
bishop ought to be. I now beg to read the pas-
' sages, and to apply the marks to your lordship,
with all due respect of course. (Objected to amid
peals of laughter.) Well, my lord, at any rate, St.
Paul, if he lived, would not be turning the people
out in the snow—people that owed no rent, and
merely asked leave to live, but would not gratify
that earnest desire of your lordship, and bring up
their children in your faith, according to the dog-
mas of the infallible Dish. Church Mission Society.
This closed his lordship's examination, which

After a few words in reference to the period of
Mr. Lavelle's giving up the house to Lally, the case
closed. Decrees were, of course, obtained against
the unfortunate creatures. The case nilled as
against Mr. Lavelle.

DISGRACEFUL GAME LAW PROSE-

CETTION.

At the Cirencester Petty Sessions, a few days
since—the magistrates present being the Rev.
Henry Cripps (chairman), and Messrs. Cripps,
Morris, and Hartland—Thomas Hall, a simple-
looking countryman, who appeared bordering on
starvation, and whose clothes hung about him in
rags, was brought up in custody, charged with
being in pursuit of game in the preserves of Earl
Bathurst.

The information was laid by King, the head
gamekeeper to Lord Bathurst, and he called a wit-
ness, who deposed that he met the prisoner at 12

o'clock at night, and went with him- through the
woods in search of pheasants. Saw him shoot at
a bird which was roosting in a tree. He struck it

but did not kill it. He flied several shots at it but
with the same result.

Prisoner, on being called on for his defence, said
he was-in btu ii... i.r.--vvt-cugu on the night in

question, that the last witness Jame and knocked
him up, and asked him to go with him and shoot a
pheasant, adding that he was very " hard up," and
that ho had shot a hare the evening before, and sold
it for 2s. 6d. in Cirencester, and if prisoner would
come and shoot him a pheasant, he would be very
glad. Witness was a stranger to him, and he had
never seen him before. He (prisoner) had no gun,'
but the witness produced a gun and loaded it and
as they were going along the witness pointed to a
pheasant in one of the trees and asked him to shoot
it. He shot, but did not hit it, and the witness
loaded the gun three or four times for him (pri-
soner) to fire, but he killed nothing. He should
not have thought of going out if the witness had not
called him up and brought the gun and loaded it
for him.
The Chairman said the bench considered the
case proved. The prisoner admitted that he shot
at the pheasants. He had been convicted for
poaching in 1858, and the sentence now was
that he be committed to prison for three months,
and at the expiration of that time find sureties for
Ihis good behaviour for a further period of six
months.

The prisoner was again charged with a similar
offence in shooting a rabbit in Lord Bathurst's
preserves.
King, the gamekeeper, deposed that on Sunday
afternoon he saw the prisoner and another man
going along one of the drives. They appeared as
though they were looking for game, but they NN ere
too far off for him to see whether they had a gun
or not;

Mr. Morris inquired how it was the other man
was not included in the charge.
King replied that the other man was his witness.
The same witness was called again in corro-
boration.

He stated that he went along with the prisoner
by. the side of the hedge and pointed him out a
rabbit ; the prisoner allot at it and killed it, and
afterwards put it in his pocket and went away
with it. _ _

Prisoner, in his defence, declared that ho only
went out at the particular request of the man who
now appeared against him as a witness ; that the
witness pointed out the rabbit, which he shot, and
that the witness himself put it into his pocket and
carried it away. He (prisoner) never touched it
at all.

The magistrates were consulting on the ease, when
Mr. William Boodle, who happened to be in
court on another case, asked to be allowed to say a
few words. He did not speak as en attorney, but
as an Englishman, and he thought any man with
English feeling must feel indignant at the manner
in which this poor starving wretch had been
trapped into crime. This witness had been brought
from a distant part of the country to tempt this
poor man ; he had basely lent himself to the pur-
pose ; he had called the poor fellow out of bed,
begged as a favour that he would go with him,
had himself produced the gun and ammunition,
and was in fact the prime instigator of the offence
with which the prisoner was charged. Ho (Mr.
Boodle) had heped that the system pursued. by
Jonathan Wild, of first making men thieves and
then taking blood-money for their apprehension,
had been extinct in this country since that worthy
was executed. But he was sorry to find it was not so.
Mr. Boodle then asked the witness if he had a
license, and witness said " No." He then asked
him for his address ; but Mr. Bevir, the magistrates'
clerk, told him not to answer the question.
Mr. Boodle said what he had got out was quite
enough. The witness admitted having shot a hare,
and being present when the prisoner shot the
pheasant and the rabbit, and for each of these acts,
not having a license, he was liable to a penalty of
£2O. He (Mr. Boodle) would turn common infor-
mer to enforce these penalties if nobody else would.
Mr. Boodle then formally applied for an infor-
mation against the witness.
The witness refused to give his address, but ad-
mitted that he had been brought up from a distant
part of the country for the express purpose of catch-
ing men as he had caught the prisoner.
An officer of Inland Revenue, who happened to
be present, backed Mr. Boodle's application, and
said he should certainly bring the matter under
the notice of the commissioners.
Mr. Boodle said ho would lay the information
himself, and the revenue officer might have the
whole of the penalties, or they might be given to
objects of charity, or laid out for the benefit of the
poor victim of this man's base conduct.
After what had passed, the magistrates refused to
convict in the second case, and so great was the
excitement against the witness by the parties in
• court that he had to he taken under the protection
of the police, and let out through a side door.
L Mr. Boodle paid be had never witnessed ouch dis-

Mr. Hine, the summoning officer, said he had two
other notices to forward to the coroner, the one
being that of a man between 30 and 40 years of
age, who was on the previous day found dead in a
lodging-house in Queen-street, Lincoln's-inn-fields,
while sitting in the kitchen with his arms resting
on the table. The second case was that of a poor
man who fell suddenly dead in a public-house in
Moor-street, Soho.
The proceedings then closed.