The Aberystwith Observer

THE SPIRIT OF THE BALLOT DEBATE. The subject of the Ballot came before the House of Commons on Tuesday on the motion of Mr. H. Berkeley for leave to bring in a bill. The hon. gentleman delivered a long speech, and kept the House in good liuinour but there was little disposition to hear anyone else, and a division was soon called for, the result of which showed A tailing off among the supporters of the Ballot to tfec extent of nearly a hundred. We extract the following -.— Mr. H. Berkeley (who on rising to address the House from the front Opposition bench was received with laughter from the Ministerial side) said that probably hon. gentlemen who cheered, because they fancied he had deserted them, felt in their own consciences that they deserved desertion. He was about to make a proposition which he had often made before in vain, and he expected to make it in vain again that night. Nevertheless it was his duty to persevere, and he had never felt that duty more imperative than now, when they had before them a so-called Reform Bill, without that protection to the elector which was doubly essen- tial in any measure extending the franchise to the poorer classes. After the severely contested general election of 1852, in which both the great parties who played at battledore and shuttlecock with the govern- ment of the State exerted themselves to the utmost to gain or keep possession of Downing-street, it was felt the corruption and electoral abuses which had been so extensively practised required that something should be attempted to be done. "HOW NOT TO DO IT" LEGISLATION. It was not, however, really sought to amend the system, but only to go through the form of doing so. A select committee was accordingly appointed, on which many distinguished members of that House sat. Among them was his hon. friend the member for Bir- mingham, who, however, afterwards left the committee because he found that it was determined to do nothing. Still they presented a report, and a Bill followed, called the Corrupt Practices Prevention Act, in which also was faithfully exemplified the great principle of how not to do it." This bill met with the approval of the House, more particularly of its legal members, and, being seen to be worthless, it was likewise passed with great satisfaction in another place. The experience of 1857, the first occasion on which the measure came into force, fully justified the character that the Times bad given of it. In 1859, again, whenever it was affected t. be used, it was followed by one universal yell of execration, it being proved to deserve the name of the Corrupt Practices Encouragement Act" rather than that of the Corrupt Practices Prevention Act. MR. BERKELEY'S BILL AND HIS OPPONENTS. He might fairly ask the House to pass the first read- ing of his Bill that night, and allow it the same chance as the Bills of those two hon. and learned gentlemen, the members for Nottingham and Suffolk. His measure had at its back some 230 members, the majority of those who kept the noble lord in power; and the Attorney-General, the Solicitor-General, and two members of the Cabinet whose votes he hoped to have that night, were also among the supporters of the ballot. He did not, however, expect that his Bill would be treated with the consideration to which it was entitled. The Bill was intended to give the electors protection at the polling booth which they so eminently required and to secure' purity of election, the absence of which was so foul a blot on the national escutcheon. When he look back at the names of those by whom he had been opposed upon this question he experienced mingled feelings of astonishment, satis- faction, and regret. He was astonished at the vast amount of talent which hadjbeen arrayed 'against him, and at the miserably feeble argument to which it had condescended. Among his opponents had been Lord Palmerston, Lord John Russell, Sir J. Graham, Sir G. Grey, Mr. S. H. Walpole, Mr. S. Estcourt, and Sir G. C. Lewis, all men of undoubted talent and great logical powers, and all practised debaters yet, having looked through their speeches, he declared on his con- science that he had not found one valid argument in them all. "APPLE-PIP" ARGUMENTS AGAINST IT. It was with both satisfaction and regret that he was obliged to add that he had risen from the perusal of their speeches under the painful impression that they were disingenuous, that the thoughts of these distin- guished speakers were apart from their words, and that they were opposed to the protection of the voter for some other reason than that which they alleged in that House. Their arguments reminded him of the attempt made by Sir F. Kelly, who was defending a poisoner, to persuade the Jury that the death of the victim had been caused by eating apples (a laugh), the pips of which had generated prussic acid in the system. Just that sort of apple-pip argument was used against the ballot, but those who had used it had the advantage of addressing not an unbiassed jury, but an assembly a great part of which was returned to that House by the influence of the aristocracy through the medium of the institution which they were defending. LORD PALMERSTON'S OPINION. The speeches of the aoble lord the member for Tiverton contained nothing but the weakest plati- tudes. He said that open voting was manly and English, and that secret voting was unmanly and un- English. How, then, could the ballot be un-English when it was used in all elections except Parliamentary and municipal ones ? It is employed at the Bank of England and in elections of county constables; and even the proof of some exceptions would not bear out the assertion that it was an un-English. The noble lord also stated that the elective franchise was a trust- a proposition which was entirely refuted in an able speech by Sir R. Bethell, but which the noble lord rather dictatorily than argumentatively established to his own satisfaction by the assertion, All the world knows it is a trust." This mode of reasoning reminded him of that adopted by Peter in the "Tale of a Tub," who, in order to prove to John Martin that a brown loaf was a shoulder of mutton, said, Look, gentlemen, to convince you what a lot of blind and obstinate puppies you are [Query himself and Sir R BetheJl 1], I will use but this plain argument :-this is good, natural mutton as came out of Leadenhall-market, and eternally confound you both if you venture to say otherwise." HOW ELECTORS ARE FETTERED. But suppose the elective franchise to be a trust, what were its conditions ? Its conditions were, that the elector should vote freely and indiscriminately, without fear of punishment or hope of reward. Was the elector aided in discharging that trust by those who could not ostensibly interfere with him, standing by the polling booth and watching how he votea? Let them point out to him any way in which open voting assisted the elector to discharge his trust. Look on the other side of the question, and see whether it did not completely mar the discharge of his trust. He maintained that it did. Through open voting, the elector, in many cases, dared not go to the poll to dis- charge his trust according to his conscience. The con- sciences of the electors were interfered with. They did not vote according to their consciences, but accord- ing to the demands of others. Tens of thousands of electors were deterred from going to the poll at all, because they could not vote so as to discharge the duty of their trust. Tens of thousands of electors re- fused to be on the register at all, simply from the dread of interference. It was all very well for the rich country squire to go the poll. What responsi- bility did he incur? None whatever. He discharged his duty according to his conscience, and nobody inter- fered with him. But look at the responsibility to the poor tenant-at-will or the small tradesman, You take my life when you do take the means whereby I live," and the means of those unfortunate men often hung on their votes. "PREVENTION BETTER THAN CURE." Mr. Lawson thought the House should exert itself to put an end to this evil. The House had the remedy in its own hands, by directing the votes ..to be taken in secret, by which they deprive men' of the means of getting value for their money. If they did this, the House would soon find the proof of the old axiom— "that prevention is better than cure." They had heard that the ballot had entirely failed in the colonies, but that had been ably refuted by the speech of the hon. gentleman the member for Ponfcefract. He i rr. Lawson) said that if the ballot were found effectual in the colonies, then the same remedy appli to the fam evils in this country, must produce the same effect. Not only had they a large majority of the electors of the country in favour of the ballot, but two- thirds of the members of that House had recorded their votes in its favour. He believed in his conscience that by the adoption of a measure such as that which was proposed, the House would wipe out one dark blot upon the institutions of this country, and would render them more than they were subjects of greater pride to themselves, and of admiration to surrounding nations. THE PREMIER ON POLITICAL TRUSTS. Lord Palmeston said I can assure the House that I shall treat it with more respect than to Go on refining, And think of convincing when they think of dining." (A laugh.) But, sir, I wish to assure my honourable friend opposite (Mr. Berkeley) that nothing which he has given us in his speech this evening has in any degree altered the opinions which I have always en- tertained upon the measure he proposes. My hon. friend has found fault with an assertion which I made, that the franchise was not a right, but a trust; and I, arguing that it was a trust and not a right, contended that every political trust ought to be exercised in public view. I say it would be a trust even in the case of universal suffrage, because, even then, the elector would be exercising the function as a trust for the benefit of all that portion of the population- women and children—whoso interests would be affected, but who would not be entitled to exercise any function in regard to the matter upon which he is going to vote. (Hear, hear.) Therefore it is that any political fran- chise which is vested in any person in this country is exercised in the sight of the public. A BALLOT-BOX MEMORIAL FOR MR. BERKELEY! I entertain the conviction, that if the bill of my hon. friend was c-riea, and the ballot established by law, you would demoralise the people of this country. You would turn your people into law-breakers or hypocrites —law-breakers, if they made known their votes it would be a breach of the law; and they would be hypocrites if they kept their votes secret. Besides, under the ballot many of those who had promised their votes would, ten to one, break their promises. We have been told in the course of the evening that in Australia the ballot does not prevent bribery and in- timidation-the two things against which we are told to vote with the hon. gentleman and it is remarkable that the advocates of the ballot, having for a long time grounded themselves on the example of the United States, have been obliged to quit the shores of the Atlantic and take refuge at the Antipodes. Well, sir, I won't keep the House any longer—I shall not intrude upon it by repeating the speech which I was in great hopes my hon. friend would read. (Laughter.) My hon. friend has pursued this course through evil report and through good report, though moderate success, and sometimes through less success, and no doubt it is a great honour to his perseverance and I only hope when the day shall come-and long may it be deferred—when a public memorial shall be erected to my hon. friend-that monument which he shall have so well deserved-may it be erected in the shape of a ballot-box.

THE LORDS' COMMITTEE ON CHURCH RATES. The following report has been presented by the Select Committee of the House of Lords appointed to inquire into the present operation of the law and practice respeeting the assessment and the levy of church-rates 1. That it appears from the evidence that "by the common law-that is to say, by immemorial usage in this country, the parishioners are bound to repair the church, and to provide everything that is necessary for the decent performance of Divine service," and that for the attainment of these objects, recourse has, from very ancient times, been had to a system of parochial assess- ment, which assessment is still maintained in the great majority of parishes throughout the country. 2. That by the judgment of the House of Lords in the Braintree case, the law has been declared to be, that the church-rate is only assessable on the ratepayers by the vote of the majority of the vestry, and it appears in evidence that for the neglect to vote a rate there is no penalty at common law. 3. That, therefore, in some places no rate is made, and in some, though, made, it is not imtoreed against those who refuse to pay. 4. That where a church-rate has been refused, or has not been assessed, it has generally been attributable to one or other of the following causes viz., 1st. The abuse of the rate in its assessment for and application to improper objects, or in excessive charges. 2nd. The assessment of new parishes and districts having churches of their own to the rate of the mother church. 3rd. The unwillingness of churchwardens to propose a rate the collection of which might be rendered difficult or impossible by the uncertainty and inefficiency of the law. 4th. Local causes of irritation unconnected with the rate. 5th. The opinion entertained against church-rates by certain classes of Dissenters on reli- gious or political grounds. 5. That a great obstacle to the enforcement of a rate when made is, that a ratepayer summoned before the petty sessions for non-payment may then proceed to dispute the validity of the rate or his own liability (53rd George III., c. 127, s. 7); that thereupon the justices must forbear to give judgment, and the church- wardens can only proceed in the. Ecclesiastical Court. 6. That the entire abolition of the church-rate is opposed to the general feeling of members of the Church, is not universally called for by Dissenters of various denominations, and especially not by that large and influential body theWesleyan Methodists, and would, in the case of a great number of parishes, be attended with serious and prejudicial consequences, by restricting the existing means for the repair and maintenance of the parish church, by greatly increasing the labour and responsibility of the clergymen, and otherwise mate- rially impeding the ministrations of the Church in those parishes. 7. That, viewing the grounds of objection to the payment of church-rates, as well as the impediments which exist to their collection, it is expedient to alter the law in the following respects1. That, for the future, persons desirous of being exempted from contributing to the church-rate in any parish may give yearly notice to that effect to the churchwardens prior to the meeting of any vestry for the purpose of making a church-rate and that such persons shall "not be entitled to attend any such vestry, or to vote upon the making or application of such rate, or to act as churchwardens in any matter relating to the church, or to retain any scat appropriated to them in the church during the term of such exemption. 2. That the rate, when voted by the vestry, shall be levied upon all persons liable to it who have not given such notice. 3. That the items for which a rate may be made shall be definitely declared by law. 4. That the ratepayers in any new parish or district shall be rateable for the purposes of their own church .and for no other. 5. That there shall be the same powers for the recovery of church-rates as exist for the recovery of poor-rates and in case of objection to the validity of the rate an appeal shall lie to the General Quarter Sessions, and that the jurisdiction of the Ecclesiastical Courts in such matters shall cease. 8. That the principle of assessing the owner instead of the occupier to the church-rate, is well deserving the serious consideration of Parliament in any future legislation on this subject. And the Committee have directed the minutes of evidence taken before them, together with an appendix, to be laid before your Lordships.

EYES AND NO EYES. Tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything." There is an instructive children's story called Eyes and no Eyes." Tun boys take the same round within an hour of each other. One declares it was the dullest walk he ever had the other comes in full of interest- ing facts that he had noticed. One had learnt to use hi3 eyes; the other had not. It is astonishing how much zest is added to a tour, or even to a common walk, by even a slight acquaintance with the natural sciences. These are happily increasing daily in popular estimation, and of some of them no one who wishes to pass as a decently educated member of society can afford to be wholly ignorant. This story of the days of my youth (says a writer in the Leisure Hour) came into my mind during a journey on the Great Western Railway. What opportunities for geological observation are afforded to the traveller, even as he is rapidly whirled through successive for- mations on this line! Leaving the London clay at Slough, the line runs through chalk as far as Pang- bourne, whei-e it enters a tract of green sand. Between Swindon and Bath it is principally through oolites and coral rag; from Bath to Bristol through new red sandstone; and then, after crossing the alluvial de- posit which lines the Somersetshire coast of the Bristol channel, it finds its way down to Plymouth and Pen- zance through new red sandstone granite, and old red sandstone or Devonian, the stratum in which Hugh Miller won his laurels, and rom which he derived his sobriquet of Old Red.' Each of these different formations impresses a dis tinctive character more or less on the features of the landscape. The rounded and swelling downs of the Vale of the White Horse proclaim their chalky construction as clearly as the jutting eminences or tors of Dartmoor betray the presence of granite; and it is well known that certain plants manifest a decided preference for particular soils. The red sandstone, whether old or new, imparts a delightfully warm tinge to the prospect. The fields and cliffs in South Devon, as also about Worcester and Hereford, are of a rich deep red, which wonderfully heightens the effect of the luxuriant vege- tation. The very sand and waves of the sea (near Dawlish, for instance) partake of the same colour; and even the cows, authors of the far-famed and delicious Devonshire cream, seem to have felt its influence, for they are all dark red. None who have seen it can fail to have admired the same contrast in the precipices at Clifton, between which the Avon winds its way, the ruddy glow of the rock, and the rich green of the hanging woods, mutually setting each other off to the best advantage. The only thing wanting is the com- pletion of Brunei's half-finished suspension bridge, which would then almost rival his achievements at Saltash. Those two desolate-looking piers should no longer be left to provoke the taunt mentioned in Holy Writ, This man began to build, and was not able to finish." Strange that this lovely scenery should be inhabited by so ugly a race. As we thread the quaint, narrow, dirty streets of Bristol, we cannot help rertiarking the marvellously ill-favoured faces that throng them. The thing is notorious. A local tradition relates, that if a stranger ventured to marry a Bristol woman, he re- ceived the freedom of the city as the well-earned reward of his bravery. In the neighbouring city of Bath the people are almost as much above the average. The diversities of race in different parts of England are very noticeable, especially amongst the stationary peasant population. In East Kent, for example, there is a great preponderance of blue eyes; the same in Devonshire villages, with the addition of light hair and fair pink-and-white skin; while in Dorset- shire, they have hazel eyes and a clear dark com- plexion. We have spoken of the travelling geologist. But the philologist, the painter, the architect, the anti- quarian, the botanist, and the agriculturist, will each find differing sources of interest in the same journey.

A PICTURE OF THE TURKISH SULTAN. A little man in a dark coat, a dark red cap with a long black tassel on his head, and a pale unpleasing countenance, comes down the steps, with as little dig- nity as a shopman. Can that really be the Sultan ? Yes, it must be the Sultan, because the elderly person- ages by his side reply with an expression of deep reverence to some remarks of the little man, and the stout lady with the children steps hastily forward into his path, as if she would stop his further advance. He starts, makes a half step backward, and contracts his eyebrows most threateningly. Yet he listens to what she has to say, but listens with a gloomy, expression, and then casts an inquiring glance on his brother-in- law, the High' Admiral. He utters a few words of explanation, shruyging his shoulders, and then another word or two, which seem to say, "What do I know about your husband?"—motions the stout lady out of the way and walks on I was told, because within the last few years he has drank something stronger than champagne, and this has given him strength. Besides, he was to-day in a very good humour. But he gen- erally looks very gloomy." For the rest, Abdul Med- jid has the Turkish family features, oval countenance with somewhat prominent cheekbones, the nose broad at the nostrils and arched, the dark-brown, well-cut, but not large, eyes, and the finely-pencilled eye-brows. They struck me as finest when contracted with their threatening expression, and the countenance then ap- peared most significant. If they could contract with a grave earnestness, Abdul Medjid would be a man of high character. Naturally mild of disposition, a good son, good brother, unwilling, although a despot, to sign a death warrant, Abdul Medjid is not wanting in the softer feelings. That which he wants is real earnest- ness, real strength. So, at least, it seems to me. He does not throw himself seriously into anything, but lets all go as it may and will. "Allah Kerim! "-F,. Bremer, in Ecclectic Review.

PRINCE CHARLES OF ST. JAMES'S AND THE "GRANDE MADEMOISELLE." Dr. Doran, prevaily well-known by his interesting works, such. as MonailMBRetired from Business," has just issued a new one, entitlea "The Book of the Princes of Wales, Heirs to the Crown of England," which promises to achieve an equally high reputation. We extract the following epi- sode from its pagesJ/k Mademoiselle de Montpensier was antremely dashing, self-willed, well-favoured, audacious girl of nineteen, coquette to her finger-ends, and accomplished r?L al| the French arts which availed so little against Charles when the young Prince had gained more years, more courage, and a little more experience. When the Prince of Wales's anxious mother presented her son to Mademoiselle, the latter saw before her a tall well- formed lad of sixteen, with ruddy-brown cheeks, like a ribstone pippin, long, clustering, dark-brown hair, and eyes as brilliant as they were black. The young Queen of coquette, with all the right and might of her addi- tional years, studied her youthful and silent adorer. Henrietta left them alone to cultivate a closer ac- quaintance, but she had also-wonderful circumstance for a French mother— left her son without the means to attain such an end. She had forgotten to instruct him in her own tongue, at all events, sufficiently to enable him to express himself in it. Now," says the Grande Mademoiselle in her Memoirs, "what could I do with a young fellow who could not speak French ?" Charles looked, smiled, spoke English, and-worse than speaking no French at all--spoke broken French, which from an English throat is at once the most odious and ridiculous sound that ever was uttered. To Mademoiselle it was all as nothing; and "what could I reply," she asks, to a lover who had nothing to say ?" and then, contemplating that graceful head, the fresh beauty of youth gracing the dark blow, she remarks—"Could he only have spoken for himself, Heaven only knows what then might have happened." The following this superb coquette, however, had its particular attractions for the Prince of Wales and the dashing and imperious young lady received his homage as a matter of course never touched by it, but specu- lating the while on the possibility of her winning the hand of the young Louis XIV., or of the Emperor of Germany. The silent yet assiduous Prince had formid- able rivals in the potentates whom the Montpensier chose to place on the list of men whom she might condescend to marry. Meanwhile, Charles was first in her train at cveryfele, nearest to her at every play, always prompt, plumed hat in hand, to escort her to or from her ponderous carriage, and altogether, serving an apprenticeship in the courts of love which stood him well when his hand, a "prentice hand" no longer, touched the responding fingers of the Lucys, the Barbaras, the Eleanors, and of other nymphs a score, who listened to him after youth had vanished from his brow, and when a. sar- castic expression ever played around a mouth which, even in his salad days, was the worst feature in his face. But Henrietta Maria desired to see her son a thriving lover, and not the mere lacquey cavalier of -the laughing beauty of the French court. She assumed, or was induced to believe, that the lady was willing, but that the swain was indifferent, and her woman's wit resolved upon a course that was to render the said swain subdued in completeness of love to the fairest of I nymphs out of Arcadia. Some grand festival was about to be celebrated at court; some occasion when beauty put on a panoply of charms which should be irresistible. At this toilet for conquest, Henrietta Maria had ar- ranged that she herself would array the young French beauty, and that the younger Prince of Wales should be present to witness the unusual spectacle, under colour of an assistant at the ceremony. And as the Queen of England decked the French coquette, Charles stood by, candle in hand, moving as he was bidden, from right to left and left to right, now extending a hand to adjust the brilliant chain on Dian's snowy shoulders, now receding a foot or two to view a craftily- designed effect, and give his required opinion as to the taste from which it sprung. In short, the diamond was played before him till, dazzled by every separate ray, he became, as it was supposed, blinded by the con- centrated splendour when Mademoiselle turned from, the toilftetbrone, a little more dressed and not much less Veb7utiful than Anadybmene herself. The stricken squire attacked himself nearer than ever to tend this well-graced beauty, happy in his service, and seem- "W n°t thinking of her heart. i occasion, Anne of Austria tried her slalrul nana on the tiring of the nymph for a court-ball at which the latter appeared, as Madame de Motteville assures us, as if all the beauties and riches of nature 7, !?e.en e jausted to contribute to the adornment of this fair creature.' A chorus of adorers acknowledged the powers of face and form and adornments adorned by her, as she entered the ball-room. The young King ceded to her his throne, and with the Prince of Wales, sat on the steps of the dais at her feet. She felt an empress, and does not fail in her Memoirs to avow that fact. She gloried in having the great ones of the earth below her footstool, where several of the blood-royal had taken their places. She felt as an empress and she says, From the throne to which my high'birth fully entitled me, I could not help looking down upon the Prince of Wales with my heart as well as my eyes, for my mind was filled with the idea of espousing the Emperor." She had been told that the Germans longed for her, that the Queen of France would aid her to that 1 greatness, "and under those circumstances," asks the Grande Mademoiselle, "how could I do otherwise than regard Prince Charles as an object of pity?" The Prince, and his acute mother also, became sensible of the altered feeling which took the form of compassion; but the former consoled himself with spirit. the altered feeling which took the form of compassion; but the former consoled himself with spirit. As time wore on, and the ambition of Mademoiselle was jam to lower itself, and she became conscious that her interested relations were not likely to aid in disin- heriting themselves by assisting her to a marriage with any individual, she in her turn began to woo the .Prince. At a court-ball, m the spring of 1647, she condescended to ask him to lead out Mademoiselle de Guise to dance. Charles perhaps would have obeyed, or mi«ht have been gallant enough to have taken out the" Grande Mademoiselle herself, but his Royal mother interfered and to pique the lady to whom she herself had stooped in order to win her dowry for the Prince of Wales, she requested him to take the hand of Mademoiselle de Guerche. Charles obeyed, and moreover, of his own movement, subsequently led out Mademoiselle de Cbattillon, for whom he manifested that night so much regard that, what with the ardour of its exhibition, and the fact that the Prince of Wales did not ask Mademoiselle the whole evening even to dance the courante, the Montpensier overwhelmed Prince Rupert with the clamour of her grievances, and swept from the ball-room, an irresistible beauty in an uncontrollable passion. Mademoiselle threatened to bury herself in a convent: she took to reading good books donned uncouth attire; neglected her person, and then shook this all off when the Prince of Wales came next year from St. Germains to Fontainebleau, where every one found him improved in manners and appearance, the hereditary hesitation of speech being less remarkable, as Madame de Chattillon found, to whom the improving lad made love with the perfection worthy of a French abbe. But all the various moods of the Grande Made- moiselle were assumed in vain, and none of her imaginary lovers were ever attached to her car. M. de St. Aulaire, in his Historie de la Fronde," asserts that, when Charles returned to France after the battle of Worcester, he wooed the Montpensier with the most passionate gallantry, offering to turn Romanist if she would agree to become his wife. The Prince, at all events, was lucky in obtaining what he is said thus to have sought. Charles was too well suited with Catherine of Braganza. What would have been his life with a woman who loved and fought with the sentimental energy of a dragoon ? who repeated obscene phrases uttered in her hearing by courtiers, with all the wicked pertness of the abandoned Ver-Vert? who won a triumph against Mazarin by turning the King's cannon on the city of Paris, and who made epigrams on the victims in the days of the Fronde ?

WHAT THE" TIMES", THINKS OF THE BALLOT BOX. We are simply of opinion that the box is a delusion; that ninety-nine voters out of a hundred would go about, like the Italians, giving their plebiscite, with their tickets in their hats, or at least, proclaiming their votes to all the world. Englishmen regard the franchise in all sorts of ways-some as a trust, some as a right; to be exercised either by some light, or preference, or motive of their own, or with deference to a superior, or with fidelity to a party. Whatever their reason is, they are not ashamed of it, and so open- hearted are they that they are sure to talk as they vote. Mr. H. Berkeley considers that he has found in our election intelligence a paragraph establish- ing the fact of the agricultural screw having been put on the tenant-farmers at a particular election. No doubt, the screw is often put on, but the screw and the Ballot are quite as compatible as the screw and the paddle. The Ballot is shortly to be taken in Savoy on the question of annexation. Does Mr. H. 'Berkeley suppose that the Imperial screw will not also be applied ? The Ballot is perfectly compatible with every other electoral agent—with the 51. -note, the tankard, the steward, the priest, the mob, and every other orgaii of influence or opinion. For whatever reason a man votes, he cannot keep the secret. There is nothing so thoroughly established on the Election Committees as that they who have most reason to keep their own secret, the receivers of bribes, make no secret of it at all. Mr. H. Berkeley, who, by the bye, takes liberties in quotation, cites our challenge,—" Does any- body know anybody who wants the Ballot for himself?" and calls it imbecile. When he has answered the chal- lenge by producing the electors who wish to conceal their own votes he will be in a condition to call us what names he pleases.

MEMOIR OF M. JULLIEN. The mental aberration of M. Jullien did not last very long, nor was he destined to survive more than a few hours the partial restoration of his faculties. On Tues- day, the 13th inst., he became sensible, and on Wed- nesday at 7 p m. he expired, at the age of 50. In M. Jullien the British public have lost one who served them with ever-increasing zeal during a more length- ened period than is ordinarily given to entertainers of the class to which he belonged, and of which he was the undisputed chief. His career, though one of seem- ingly unchequered success since he first superintended the concerts which were wont to enliven the dullest part of the winter in this metropolis, was by no means one of unchequered prosperity. He was alternately rising and falling, not in popularity, but in ways and means. When it is remembered that M. Jullien, previous to his arrival in England, had already gone through a career of no small activity and continually shifting fortunes, it must be owned that he played his part in the world with a vigour not easily repulsed. What he did for the art of music in this country, by his frequent performances or Mozart, Beethoven, Men- delssohn, and other great masters, and by the constant engagement of eminent performers, will probably help to preserve his memory even more than his unrivalled energy, his unprecedented zeal and liberality, as a public entertainer. To M. Jullien however, moreover, is attributable in a large measure the immense im- provement which our orchestras have made during the last 20 years, he having been the means not only of bringing over some of the greatest foreign instru- mentalists, but of discovering and nurturing the promise of many English performers, who through the publicity he placed at their disposal, no less than through their own industry and ability, have attained acknowledged eminence. What he was as a conductor, a composer, and an egitrelgg-eneur-together with those peculiarities, physical as well as moral, which gave him so marked an ascendancy, and enabled him to stand alone in his particular sphere—will, in all likelihood, be forgotten when the present generation has passed away; but, as one who essentially promoted the advance of a beautiful art, M. Jullien is entitled to a niche in the Temple of Fame which the most hyper- critical would be cautious to refuse him. Mr. Jullien's last words related to a hymn which he had not long since composed, and called a Napoleo- nienne, from its being in honour of the Emperor of the French. Let it be sent," he said, "to His Majesty. It will, perhaps, procure bread for my poor wife." M. Jullien has left a widow and two adopted children, one of whom, a fine young man of two-and-twenty, engaged himself some months back in a French lancer regiment, in order not to be a burden on M. Jullien in his misfortunes. The other, a girl, lives with Mme. Jullien, and is, like the widow, totally unprovided for.

THE LAW OF BREACH OF PROMISE. On the Norfolk Circuit the case of Kitteridge v. Crow has been tried, and was as follows The plaintiff's father was a farmer, bricklayer, and public-house keeper at Ashdon, in Essex, the latter business being carried on by his wife, with whom their daughter Emily, the plaintiff, lived. The defendant, a young man of 27 at the time the action was brought, was described as having good prospects, though while pay- ing his addresses to the plaintiff he was foreman to his uncle, a master builder. The plaintiff was 80 years of age, and in November, 1858, had a child, of whom it was alleged the defendant was the father. As soon as the plaintiff's mother ascertained that her daughter was in the familv-way she called on the defendant, and gave the following account of her interview with him on that occasion I told him that Emily was in the family-way, and that I intended to know what lie meant to do. He said he could not help It. She got into trouble and she must get out of it he was ill then and could do nothing." I said, You must do some- thin"1 or I will give you all the law will allow." He was offended, and did not visit again after that. My daughter has not been to church since she used to go regularly before. On being cross-examined she denied that her daughtf r kept company with other young men, or that she had ever had a child before. Site couldn't think it and she wouldn't think It. 111 will have a wide mouth. The plaintift's sister was also called, and swore that the defendant had told her he should stick to his text, and that Emily should be his wife,before the sheep ate the turnip's off his father's land." This was said shortly after it was discovered that the plaintiff was in the family-way.. Mr. Koane addressed the jury for the, defendant, and in the course of his speech reâd. the following, which he said was the only love letter which. had passed between the parties i ■ To Mr. Thomas Crow, builder, Ashdon, Essex. "Take notice that I intend, untter advice, not to prosecute the summons Ihave issued against'you for the maintenance of your child, to be heard ohSaturday next; and that 1 intend to commence an action against you for breach of pro- mise ofinarrioge, "EMILY KITTERIDGE." He asked the jury, if they should think there had been anything like a promise, to give "contemptuous" damages. The Lord Chief .Baron, in summing, up, observed that he did not at all concur with the notion that this description of action ought not to continue to form part of the law of this country. Cases might, frequently occur where, the prospects of a woman being fatally blighted, her only compensation would be the damages obtained in su'ch' an action. However, it was Sot foy him or for the jury to approve or disapprove the law* With regard to the absence of letters, which had beer* relied upon on the part of the defendant, the jury would consider the rank of life of the parties in the present case, and the opportunities they seemed to have had for personal communication. A well-known French sentimentalist was said to have left his mis- tress in order that he might have the pleasure of writing to her. The parties here would probably be satisfied with meeting each other. The question for the jury was,—Did the evidence show an understanding and engagement between these people that they were, to marry ? If such engagement could be inferred by them, then the question would be as to the amount of damages. They would on this point consider the conduct of the defendant, the heartlessness of his answer to the mother, and the line of defence persisted in at the triaLin imputing to the plaintiff that she had been intimate,with other men, of the truth of which imputation there was not a shadow of evidence, and whether these- considerations would not enhance the sum they mi ri ,i,t think it right to award. Verdict for the plaintiff,-Damages 150l.

RENEWED REIGN OF TERROR AT r NAPLES. Were it not for the feeling that a revolution of some kind must ultimately bring succour and relief to the oppressed;, the recent intelligence from Naples might well carry despair to every heart. Indeed, the state of that unfortunate country seems now to have arrived at its very worst, if we may judge from the following, which we extract fronJ the Times:- It is the fate of tyranny to move blind and spellbound to destruction. Cruelty begets terror, and terror in turn impels to cruelty, until at last the madness of op- pression reaches such a height that human nature can no longer endure it. There is a point of suffering at which the most slavish learn a lesson of manliness. Even slIP- posing a community isolated from every other, and eXJ posed without sympathy or assistance from its neigh- bours _to the extreme of wrong, we may be sure that- there is a point which the ruler cannot pass, and thsi either a revolution of the streets, as in France, or a revolution of the palace, as in ancient Rome and modern Russia, will bring relief to the oppressed. Still fairer are the hopes of a people whose evil case IS known, and is the subject of astonishment and indigsa" tion over all the world. In the present age it is imposH sible that even the most despotic Sovereigns can coil, tinue for ever to abuse their authority. In spite Of pi e all precautions, foreign ideas and foreign emissaries enter, and the ill-governed population are encouraged to a resistance before which in the end even the boldest King or Minister must quail. The young King of Naples is surpassing his father' in bigotry and. cruelty. The unhappy have been relieved, from Tiberius only to' find Caligula. As the freedom of Central Italy has. been assured, .the terror and violence of the Neapolitan Government: have reached such a point that it is difficult to believe in the perfect sanity of the King and his agents. In RomÐ the Papal Government has committed many excesses, but Cardinal Antonelli is a mild and philosophic ruler in comparison with the Neapolitan Ministers. In every letter the capital is described as subjected to a perfect reign of terror. In the heated imagination of the King the voting of the people of Central Italy is to be the signal for a rising in the Two Sicilies. The advance of the Piedmontese troops into Tuscany and the Romagna. will, according to the Neapolitan politicians, be followed by an outbreak of all the Revolutionists in the Stateg of the Church and in Central Italy. The only meanØ of averting the catastrophe is to get rid of every lead- ing Revolutionist, and, as in the mijid of His MajesS/ Revolutionist" and Liberal are convertible the most extraordinary measures are being taken in the chief cities of the kingdom. The state of the capita has been fully described in the late correspondence from Naples. It is nearly four years since the excesses of the Government determined the English and French ereigns to withdraw their representatives, but this step' being followed by no active measures, has been totall/ disregarded by the Court of Naples. The tives of the two countries are now the powerless spectf" tors of crimes far greater than those which moved the anger of Napoleon and of Lord Palmerston's Govern- ment in 1856. Their advice is not asked, and it ill coldly received when they volunteer it. The proceed' ings of the police are scarcely cohered by the deceit veil of secrecy; either the extremity of alarm or | cynical contempt for public opinion causes them tO disregard all appearances and to outrage every human right in the face of day. As is well known, the Neap?' litan Government has been long intent on getting rid of every man of station or culture who is supposed to be infected with liberal opinions. It seems to come to the conclusion that its own existence is incort1' patible with any degree of thought or aspiration in thø people. Every man of education who does not forJ}J part of the machine of State is suspected of disaffectioIJ, and it may be said to lie on him to prove his loyalty bY some servile act or some display of open partisanship with the ruling powers. For some time past the process of weeding out All independent-minded men has been going on, and by threats or actual expulsion a number of the most eminent citizens of Naples have been banished fro#1 their country. Within the last few weeks, however* this process has increased in intensity. Men suddenly arrested, and, without the proof of any crimc* even without an accusation, they are hurried to prisollf or on board ship to be sent out of the country. Not here and there, not merely some busy correspondent of the Tuscan or Piedmontese Liberals, not merely some incautious talker at a cafe, but men of quiet lives and reserved character, men of professional 'eminence, averse from violent changes; and only anxious for son-le abatement of the cruelty and ferocity of the Govern- ment, are suddenly seized and hurried away, often without permission to communicate with their families. The deportations are sometimes made, in mass. A special correspondent writes that a few days' since fourteen persons were seized to be sent f out, of tho country, and in seven cases the sentence was actually executed. Among them were men of thehighest,rank, and the only explanation which the police deigned to give was that their residence in Naples was incom- patible with public tranquillity. But banishment is not the worst fate, which can befall a Neapolitan Liberal. In Paris or London he lives a free man, he may hope to be presently joined by his wife and children, and he looks forward to the day when the present tyranny will be overthrown, or the ruler taught moderation by misfortune or the re- monstrances of his neighbours. To the victim who is immured in one of the dungeons of the police no such consolations come. He must undergo the extremity of misery, oppressed by dirt, foul smells, villmous food, the insolence of gaolers, the society of the most infamous, and, if report speaks true, even the torture of the lash. His health may be ruined, and deliverance may come too late to restore him to his former self. This punishment is now inflicted on men against whom there is nothing more than a shadow of suspicion. Happy the man who only remains in these infected cells for a few days, or until his banishment has been decided upon! The terror at present prevailing in Naples is said to surpass anything even in the gloomy annals of the late reign. ° No one can doubt that these monstrous crimes are sure to produce the very consequences they ai-e.intei.ded to avert. iter all, the Neapolitans are Italians, and though, perhaps, not so gifted intellectually as tieir northern countrymen, they have quick feelings, and, when roused, a fair amount of energy. If Machiavel had been the adviser of the young King, he would assuredly have advised him to make common cause with the Sardinian Monarch, and establish his power in Southern Italy by the same course which has made his rival the head of a great kingdom in the north. 1 attempting to shut out the influencss which now reigxi at Florence and Bologna must ie evident to every mind not trained by the priests, courtIers, and the most ignorant of women. The Khg": of Naples might, without parting with a shred of hs power, without even giving a constitution, have made himself a popular King, and held a balance between Sardinia and the Papacy. Ihe merest concessions t» natural justice, the abandonment of a system shocking to the most retrograde politicians in Europe, the restraining of a police against whose doings even Austria has protested, might have assured King Francis the opening of a prosperous and powerful reign. But a blindness which may be called judicial shuts out the path of honour and success. It would be a libel on humanity to suppose that his Govern- ment can remain unchanged. The day of retribution is probably at hand, and anoth r Royal fugitive may soon give that warning to Kings which has been so often repeated in our times.

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