•«oUj>ii je, they .ose good J amused, id the follies j accepted with .ums. He was wont and to en'arge on his own egotism was never offensive. He set .u. up as the ideal of a public man. and he kindly encouraged all who listened to him to aim at at- taining some day his own high standing in society. Wherever he appeared he was without a. rival, and ruled supreme and absolute. Be had, induct, passed through many vicissitudes and many transformations in his time. By moral force alone, without any ex- traneous aid, he maintained the lofty position which he acquired 12 or 14 years ago, and kept it to the day of his death. Baron Haussman may swagger at the Hotel de Ville, and sway the destinies of the depart- ment of the Seine but Mangin, the great Mangin— the renowned vendor of blacklead pencils—was the absolute master of the public thoroughf aJ e The flaneur, as he passes near the Place de la Made- leine. about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, the Place de la Bastille, or the Chateau d'Eau, will regret that those spots will no more behold that stately form arrayed in velvet tunic, fringed with gold, the cuirass burnished like a mirror, the sword, the gauntlets, and the glit- tering casque, with the winded serpent, surmounted by the full and flowing crest. Hia figure and countenance were martial. His moustache was of the true Imperial cut, the extremities well waxed, and sticking out on each side like i-kewera, and the tuft nearly covered the chin. As he took his stand in his open carriage, drawn by two bay horses in decent harness, his con- fidential assistant, habited in similar but less gaudy costume, behind him, with his right hand (the fore- finger of which displayed a massive gold ring) on his hip, and his look firm, serene, and thoughtful, a murmur used to run round among the multitude, who bowed to him as the very kingot charlatans. It was a glorious moment, and you saw that he felt it, when he rose silent and commanding, and accepted with a sort of disdainful humility the allegiance of the mass at his feet. MANGIN THROWS ASIDE HIS MODESTY. Whatever we know of Mangin is gathered chiefly from what he himself has told us. It is said that he had undergone various vicissitudes and transformations before donning the gorgeous robes or the glittering equipments, which will be long remembered. Like the dentist Duchesne—whose white cravat, black coat, caleche with one horse, and the inevitable barrel organ, the discordant sounds of wbich were doubtless meant to drown the agonising cries of the victim whose teeth he was operating upon, were so well known,— Mangin had followed the beaten track of the open- air artists, but without success. In his speeches he never faded to allude to his former career, and to his struggles when trying to overcome the prejudices of mankind, who never would see any difference between him and the vulgar herd that ran after dirtinction. Conscious of his own power, he relied upon it alone for quietly making his way in the world; but the more humble and modest be was, the more he was left among the mob of adventurers from whom he was ambitious to emerge. He at last resolved to make a bold push. He shuffled off his modesty as he would have shuffled off an old garment at the Temple bazaar; he proc'aimed himself the leader of a movement which should revolutionise the artistic world he trampled under foot false shame, repudiated all intervention be- tween him and the people, whose suffrages he did not so much court as demand as his right; and, strange to say. this arrogant claim was allowed. That there should be no mistake about himself, he announced to his astonished but assenting public that Verdigris, the organ-player, who always sat behind — an odd- looking fellow, with a low forehead, small turned-up nose, a small ho'e in the middle of his face by way of a mouth, and a wondrous length of chin—was behind him, not to prompt or perform any other function beyond grinding his instrument whenever he made him a sign, and for the proper execution of which Verdigris was responsible only to himself. MANGIN AND VERDIGRIS DRESS THEMSELVES. Mangin never arrived on the ground in official cos- tume. He was habited like any ordinary mortal in round hat and paletot and his open carriage with two horses, which he himself always drove, displayed none ofthegaudinefs of the charlatan. Verdigris always sat in the rear, dressed like his master; the only thing remarked was that he carried before him a square box ith an oilcloth covering. When he arrived on the ground—the Place de la Madeleine, the space in front of the New Opera, or the Chateau d'Eau on weekdays, and on Suudays the Place de la Bourse—he stood up, took from a small case his own portrait framed and glazed, placed before him a coffer filled with medals bearing his own likeness, and forthwith assumed the velvet tunic, with its gold fringes, the gauntlets, the cuirass, the sword, and casque. At a sign from his master, Verdigris also put on his official costume, which consisted of a gown of velvet and a casque, without plume or crest of any kind, and without aword, cuirass, or gauntlet. Another sign and Verdi- gris struck up; and the crowd that had already gathered at the sight of the well-known carriage are regaled with the creamy music of the Baccio. MANGIN PBXFABXS TO SPEAK. Then Mangin rose, calm and imposing, from his throne. He scrutinised the crowd thronging to his carriage wheels, looked fixedly at some individual, frowned, and suddenly lowered the visor of his helmet. This produced the effect intended—to excite the im- patience of the multitude who were burning to hear his opening speech. After a few minutes' more coquetry, and the toilette completed, he raised his finger, and the organ was filent; he rang a small bell, advanced to the front of the carriage, raised his hand, stroked his moustache and tuft, opened his mouth as if to speak, and all at once shut it again with an awful frown, and stepped back, as if his eye had alighted on some ha' eful object which deprived him of the power of speech. He knew well, however, the point beyond which he could not push the patience or good-humour of the puhlic, or refuse concessions. MANGIN TELLS HIS AUDIENCE OF THEIR IGNORANCE! It requires a good deal of courage with artists of this cl. sa to treat a theme so perilous as their own surpassing merit, for the theme had long become hackneyed. Yet see with what easy strength and majesty Mangin entered on the topic :— You ask me, gentlemen, who is this knight errant ? What mean these habiliments of former ages, these horses richly caparisoned, this gilded chariot, this music of drum and cymbal, this vast pink parasol beside me ? My answer is,— You are all blind and ignorant, and he who would succeed with you must captivate you with din and glitter. You ask me, sirs, in what my strength lies ? I answer that my strength lies in this my glittering casque, and in my sweeping crest. There was a time, indeed, when I left to mankind, whose good faith I was fool enough to believe in, to find out the lurplA88iog excelleJlce 01 my ware5-those DOW lamoua black- lead pencils; but bitter experience soon proved to me that mankind are absolutely devoid of taste and of common lenile I found that the mass. ere, I repeat, blind and ig- aorant: but I felt within myself the stirrings of genius, and that I was born to be the leading spirit of my time. I have you all now at my feet, and history will give one of its brightest pages to Mangin. MANGIN DISCOVERS A WAY TO FAME! Looking fixedly, as if some one addressed him, he Did :— What did you say, sir ? Mountebank I Well, then, so I am. am a mountebank,—it is my profession. We cannot please every one. One is not a Louis d'Or; and everybody as not the luck to come into the world a grocer! (A roar of laughter ) Do you want to know how I came to be a mountebank? Lend me your ears for a few minutes. Look at this watch (pulling a handsome gold one from his waist coat pocket, and pointing to the hour); formerly I appeared on the public places dressed as sprucely as a notary—neat and respectable, and not gaudy; but I was left alone no- body came near me, I sold not a single pencil. Any other than myself would have sunk under the disgrace of disap- pointment, but I was made of different stuff. One day. I well remember, while I was expatiating to the four winds on the excellence of my wares, Punch passed the people— stuoiri asses—as you all are, gentlemen, followed him m crowds and left me in solitary and penniless grandeur. A sudden thought struck me—" 1 have it," I cried, audso I had. The very next morning I made my appearance in public, habited like Punch, with variations to the present day. And now, gentlemen, you see me, and, what is better still, you buy from me. You laugh (looking fixedly at some one in theciowdj; is it possible for any human being with a head like the one you have, to laugh Beg pardon, sir, for my re- mark hut the fact is, I ask nothing from any of you, and, don't be afraid, I won't give you anything either. My name is Mangin I I sell my pencils, and I make them, un- aided by any one. I have been honoured with a first-class medal at the Great Exhibition of Timbuctoo. I am no idiot. My portrait as I now stand may be seen at the doer of every tobacco shop in Paris, and I tell my pencils at 20 centimes a piece. I now declare that if any inventor, manufacturer, trader, physician, or philanthropist show me better pencils than mine, I will give him I,OOOf -no, not to him, for I abbor betting—but to the poor of the 31st arrondisement. MANGIN DRAWS A PORTRAIT OF A LISTENER Mangiu then took one of his pencils, cut it, and tested its solidity by striking holes with the point in a thin board. He took a sheet of paper, placed it on a board, and looking at some person in the crowd as if he was drawing his portrait, in a few minutes exhibited the head of an ass, at which there was another immense roar of laughter. When I was modestly dressed like any of my hearers (he resumed), I was half-starved, for I did no business. I now have 200 depots in Paris. I breakfast at Maire's, in the Rue Virienne—capital [ fillet of beef slightly underdone, and such Abroad, and Chateau Margot at all my meals. As for my de- tamers, for great merit is always envied, they have long since grown green, while I get rosy and fresh; and I drink claret while they drink nothing but water, like geese as they are. HOW THE SALE WAS CONDUCTED. This was invariably the conclusion of his harangue, which seldom varied, but though repeated so often, teemed to be always welcome. It was accompanied by a play of feature, gesticulation, and inflexions of voice—from tenor to the deepest bass all of a sudden —which it is impossible to describe. He then pro- ceeded to business, opened his sculptured coffer, shook bunches of medal", uncovered a package of his photo- graphic visiting cards, and for the sum of one franc gave a medal, a card, and six pencils, while Verdi- gris's music erew fawt and furious as the purchasers crowded round him. When the clock struck three Maogin ahut up hi-, coffer, doffed his knight y robes and arms, once tuore appeared like a mere mortal, and øtelnly announcing that the sale was over for the day, left his carriage and repaired to his favourite eating-house, Verdigrit remained behind, and for some time was deaf to th, prayers of those who wanted to bay, but, jed pencils as it h's master should He used to make o provinces, and ex- a Poitiers, but with s were afraid of so In Paris, and in Paris *nd rewarded. It was insolent repartees were ^ated like a spoiled child. fH AND FUNERAL. .ded by a considerable number rfe was, according to his own ac- jar, but looked younger. He has /fame, his helmet, his cuirass, his ,ets. The eminence he obtained was Jii merits, and a great man's successor ,Ned with the ability to continue what J the founder has established.
^OTTING OUT THE HOBBIES. Jome, spinners of long-stapled yarn For Parliamentary crochet, With chaff-loads, to St. Stephen's barn, Eh, rite, Messieurs, approchez Be it on spec, on sale, or view, Now trot out all your hobbies, Your thorough-breds and cock-tails too, Hacks, cart-horses, and cobbies. From dry statistics' barren waste, From facts and figures' ploughed-land, From the far-distant fit-Ids of taste, From high ideal Cloud-land Emnty the mare's nests, where your steeds Have left their eggs to addle, And, whatsoe'er your hobbies'breeds, Muster to "boot and saddle." Here limps the over-trained old hack All jocks have been astride of Who's had John Russell on his back, Whom Dizzy's tried a ride of. Poor old Reform Through wear and tear, In spite of sprain and spavin, you Have still, so Bright and GibMn swear, A gallop for the Avenue Alas is this the high-bred colt All England once was sweet on— So hard to hold, so strong to bolt, His pins so firm and fleet on: Engaged so deep, his friends scarce knew Which event to begin with,— The horse we backed till all was blue, The nag all stood to win with! Poor old hoss you may put up Bright, In his flame-coloured jacket,— Quotf Gibson's tip, "the prad's all right," (With his cash will he back it ?)— "Rest and be thankful," cries the friend Who tooled him once 'gainst Bobby; The toughest nags must have an end,— Take home that hard-used hobby See where, behind, the string advance! Hobbies out-running mention: There's Berkeley's Ballot, Kinglake's France, Cobden's Non-intervention: Fitzgerald's Bounce, and Whalley's Cry, Hennessy's Roman Candle, Dizzy's Caucasian Mystery: Lennox's Townley-Scandal: A weedy, washy, leggy lot, As ever paced the paddock No more like winners of a pot Than sprat's like Dublin haddock, Says Pam, with just a leetle wink Over his wary shoulder,— Old Confidence is safe, I think, Though he were ten years older Punch.
THE ENGLISH IN FRANCE. The Tribunal of Correctional Police has recently been engaged during four sittings in trying a widow named Tucker, awed 75. and her daughter named Duparc, aged 43. charged with having illegally taken po-se-sinn of money and securities to the value of more than 200,0001, the property of an Englishman named Dowton, who died some months since at Montmartre at the age of 75:- It appeared from the evidence that Dowton- had resided in France for more than 40 years, and that for a considerable portion of that time he had cohabited with the widow Tucker, whom most of his acquaint- ances supposed to be his wife, though some few were aware that she was not. When Dowton was on his death-bed he sent for his nephews from England, and informed them that he possessed property to the amount of nearly 300,000f., that he intended to leave 3,000f. a year to the widow Tucker, and a legacy of 30,000f. to her daughter, the prisoner Duparc. who had attended him in his last illness, her mother having been for some time too infirm to leave her bed. He had also made the same statement to several of his French friends. Before the will was made, however, he died, and when the seals were placed on his property, by judicial order, it was ascer- tained that the greater part of the securities had been abstracted. An inquiry was instituted, and it was found that the cash and securities left by the deceased had been taken by the accused Duparc, acting, as she said, under the. instructions of her mother, who, being bed- ridden, could not take any active part in their abstraction. The woman Duparc was accordingly arrested, and in her possession a sum of 10,500f. was found, being the proceeds of the sale of part of the missing secu. ities, the rest of which were afterwards seized in the hands of the agents dc change with whom she had deposited them. The accused Tucker, owing to her infirmities, was not present in court, but her daughter was, and in answer to questions put by the president, she admitted having taken the money and securities in obedience to the instructions of her mother, to whom she supposed they rightly belonged. After hearing the evidence, the tribunal declared the charge fully proved, and condemned both the accused to a year's imprisonment, and at the same time ordered that all the property should be given up to the rightful heirs.
THE RAILWAY SYSTEM IN INDIA. When railways may be said to have succeeded in gaining popularity in England, it was very much doubted whether a like success would attend their introduction into India, But the Government determined to try them, and to en- courage the projectors they guaranteed a minimum divi- dend of five per cent. In consequence they have extended through the length and the breadth of the country, and are still increasing. A writer in AU the Year Round of this week has some good remarks on those at present finished, and from these we select the following :— The carriages are divided into first, second and third class, as in England, and lately, I believe, a fourth class has been added to suit the lower still" of the lowest depths of native society. For, contrary to general ex- pectation and particular prophecy, the natives are the great patrons of the rail. They would never use the railway," said some old Indians. It would destroy their caste to mix, and caste-ification would be of course im- possible. The event proved what most residents in India have found from experience, that convenience and economy are more powerful than caste in the long run. Certain it is that the railway is found curiously consonant with both the habits and the exchequer of the Hindoos, and that caste takes its chance. The native is proverbially patient, or it may be merely dis- inclined to exertion and he hates paying a pice more than he is obliged to pay. The railway to him affords a maximum of comfort and a minimum of cheapness —he is its devoted patron. With his bundle, his brass drinking-vessel, and, maybe, his lahtee, or wooden staff, he will go all over the world—that is to say, his world —and the only anxiety that seems to attend him in hia new mode of travel is to be in time. Accordingly he always arrives at the station long before the period for starting, and—I here allude to him in his collective ca- pacity—forms an immense crowd waiting to be let in. INDIANS TAKING TICKETS. The doors opened, the rush is tremendous, and has to be repressed by main force, at the hands of the Euro- pean police and officials. An amount of punching and driving which in England would lead to scores of actions for assault and battery, and legions of letters to the Times, is absolutely necessary before the dense mass can be brought up to the pay place. Here they all howl at once, holding their proffered pice above their heads while they push for precedence. Those nearest to the money-taker evince a disposition to bargain in reference to the fare, for no Hindoo seemsto understand that a price may be fixed, and admit of no abatement. A little more official action here becomes necessary; and, one by one, the members of the mob are made to deposit their tickets, after which they are pushed, punched, or propelled towards the train. FILLING THE CARRIAGES. Then comes another rush for places. The third and fourth class carriages are soon filled, in the European sense of the term, but the occupation of the vehicles has only just begun. Nobody knows what a port- manteau will hold until its capacity is tested and the carriages appear to have a similarly expansive gift. Batch after batch crowd in, until the passengers are as closely packed as sardines, or negroes in the hold of a slaver making the Middle Passage. It can scarcely be considered the fault of the authorities that public in- convenience is thus provided for. The public will be incommoded they will not be comfortable; and if they like the sardine arrangement, why should the railway company object ? They shake down somehow, when the train is in motion, and form as agreeable a company as a crowd of human beings, half undressed, with brown or black skins, in a high state of perspiration, and copiously oiled, can well be, with the thermometer at a hundred and twenty degrees. THE WANTS OF AN ENGLISH TRAVELLER IN INDIA. It is wonderful what a number of miscellaneous arti- cles a sahib will generally carry with him, in addition to his recognised baggage, which admits of being ticketed and stowed away. A counterpane padded with wool, and of about the bulk of a feather-bed, is almost inevitable. A pillow or two may be safely anti- cipated. Several loose pair of boots, for contingencies, and a loose coat or two, also for contingencies, may be generally relied on. A case containing a revolver is a certain companion, and a little battery of rifles are common accompaniments, besides a bundle of hunting and other riding whips, walking sticks, and perchance a pet billiard queue, with the point carefully covered up. In the case of a lady passenger, the number of unconsidered trifles-which she will insist upon con- sidering—is perfectly bewildering, and beyond the ken of man. At one time there seemed to be a hope that our compatriots—owing to the publicity of the new mode of conveyance -were emancipating themselves from this slavery to impedimenta. But the accommo dation afforded by first-class carriages has been so ex- tended of late, that the chances ..re that our compatriots will become more luxurious than ever. Among the latest improvements are saloon carriages on the Ame- rican plan—f >r ladies, I believe, more especially— which are fitted up with real beds and every toilet convenience. THE STATION A CITY OF REFUGE. The mention of sutions reminds me of a very im- portant arrangement in reference to those in the North-West. All those of recent construction are now built with a double object. They are not only resting- placea for travellers by the train, but they are refuges •for all comers in case of emergency—an insurrection, in fact, the possibility of which at any period has been a standing idea in the Anglo-Indian mind ever since the terrible lesson of 1857. If troublous times should come again, there will be no need that our compatriots should betake themselves to chance shelter—to defence- less tenements unprovided with water, as they were so frequently driven to do in the great year of disaster. The railway stations are now adapted, by a wise fore- sight, for holding out for a considerable length of time, and every one is built over a wen-so that the great necessity of all will never be wanting.
A PAINFUL CASE. A peculiarly tragic occurrence formed the subject of a coroner's inquest at Birmingham on Saturday evening last. The following are the particulars :— A few days ago a young man, named Thomas Stevenson, an only son of highly respectable parents residing at Market Harborough, was carried in a help- less state to his lodgings in Birmingham. He was there attended by a girl named Sarah Morton, with whom he was keeping proper company with a view to making her his wife, and she anxiously inquired the cause of his bruised and disabled state. He said that he had fallen, and denied that he had been fighting or that any one had been ill-using him. A surgeon was called in, and the suffering man was found to be in such a dangerous state, that his removal to the General Hospital was considered necessary. His mother was then sent for, and to her broken-hearted inquiries he made the same answer as to his sweetheart. Neither she nor the medical staff at the hospital believed that he was telling the whole of the truth, as his condition indicated considerable personal violence but he re- peated his statement with such apparently truthful emphasis, that the matter was allowed to pass without any further question. He gradually became worse, and expired at the end of three days in the presence of his sweetheart, who was in constant attendance. A post-mortem examination was then made by Mr. Bracey, house-surgeon, and revealed a considerable laceration of the bladder, penetrating all the coats of the organ, and his opinion was that death had resulted from this injury, causing peritonitis, and that the in- jury itself was caused by a heavy blow or fall. The case was then investigated, and evidence was pro- cured that the deceased had received his injuries dur- ing a fight with a man named Shakespere, with whom he quarrelled in a publichouse at Oldbury, near Bir- mingham, in reference to a sixpenny bet. The fight took place out of doors, and during its progress both combatants fell over the embankment of a brook and were immersed in the water. The deceased fell violently on some bricks at the bottom of the stream. The men renewed the fight after coming out of the water, and were afterwards separated. The deceased was taken charge of by a neighbour, and stripped of his wet clothes and put to bed but next morning he was in such a suffering state, that he was taken in a cab to his lodgings in Birmingham. The j ury found that the deceased had died of a ca-ualty occurring during a fight, and exempted the other man from all imputation. The deceased was by trade a striker, and was employed at extensive car- riage works at Oldbury.
LATEST SCIENTIFIC NEWS. The following are the latest and most popular scientific facts which have appeared in the journals devoted to science :— FOLDING BOATS. A partial trial has been made during the past week at Portsmouth dockyard of a folding boat, intended by the inventor for use with troop or emigrant ships. It is flat-bottomed, with pointed ends, and will carry fifty people at a very light draught of water. In re- ceiving passengers from any ship under circumstances of abandonment at sea it would require to be heavily weighted in addition to its human freight, in order to render it safe. The principal merit of the invention appears to be the very small space twenty such boats would occupy when folded up and stowed away on board ship, and the large amount of boat accommoda- tion which would thus be available in the event of disaster. LOCOMOTION BY HYDRAULIC POWER. Mr. W. Symotfs proposes, for all the under ground railways, to have fixed steam-engines to pump water into hydraulic accumulators; this water-power to be conveyed in pipes along the line; at proper distances wheels must be placed, but instead of wire ropes, each set of wheels must be connected with an hydraulic engine. The train, while progressing, would turn the water on and off as required, and thus no power would be uselessly expended. By the same sort of power he proposes to work through certain wide streets lines of railways contained in tubular viaducts, with open latticed sides and bottoms so as not to obstruct the light and air; these tubular viaducts to be supported on iron arches, one pillar of these arches to be in a line with the kerbstones of the street pavement, and the other against the houses. PRESERVATION OF FRUIT BY COLD. A novel method of preserving fruit is practised in Indiana, U. S., which dispenses with the necessity for sugar, boiling, or cans, while the natural flavour 's retained. The plan is to store the fruit in a place where the temperature can be reduced and maintained below 40°Fah., and above 32° Fab., the freezing point. To those accustomed to build ice-houses this presents no formidable difficulty, and by surrounding any apart- ment with charcoal and sawdust, or other non-conduct- ing substance, and with the aid of ice on the one hand and a little furnace heat on the other, the preventative conditions of fermentation are easily secured. The moisture of the atmosphere is absorbed by the use of chloride of lime. These means and some attention to the action of light seem to be all that is necessary to preserve even the most delicately-flavoured fruits in their natural state. Apples and grapes keep perfectly, and even strawberries—the most difficult of fruits to preserve in full flavour-can, it is said, be kept from season to season. DISINFECTION OF AIR. Dr. Richardson states that iodine, placed in a small ) box with a perforated lid, is a good means of destroying i organic poison in rooms. During the late epidemic of smallpox in London he has seen the method used with benefit. Charcoal is also used in the hospitals of India, according to Dr. Murray Thomson, with beneficial effect. It is hung in bags from the rafters.
THE SHIP ON FIRE Mrs. Muter, the wife of an officer in the British army, has recently published her travels with her husband in various countries. After having been at the siege of Delhi, her husband and herself returned to England on board the Eastern Monarch, which arrived safely in the Channel, and they were about to land, at Torbay and take the train to London, but were persuaded to proceed further. The next day they were beating oil the Isle of Wight, and stood in close to the shore. The trunks were packed, and every- thing prepared for la ding the day following. Mrs. Muter went to rest earlier than usual, anticipating the fatigue and excitement of the landing, and about midnight heard the cables running out as the heavy anchor was let go, telling that the voyage was ended. She says :— Never, while I live and my senses remain, can I for- get my next awakening. Did I still drt-am, or was it indeed a reality ? The whole ship seemed scattered into fragments-I was hurled from my bed, and I stood in the darkness of death. Is it the sea that bursts in a dense volume into the cabin ? The decks seem to reel and quiver, to rise and fall. Now I thought it was perpendicular, then that the raging water was surging over its side up to the top. Stifled, I gasped for breath, the air was charged with sulphur, and the atmosphere such that it was death to remain. My mind became a moving panorama. The pictures are now indistinct, but, oh! how vividly my whole life passed on the shifting scenes, with one dreadful certainty that it was death that was now droppmg the curtain on my earthly stage. The most distinct feeling I remember of this moment of painful existence was that this was death. Still, the whole period of the trance was but a moment; then instinct took the place of shattered reason, and it is amazing how rightly it guides. I found my hand on the door, by a great effort I pushed it open, and a rush of fresh air cleared away from my brain much of the shock from which I was suffering. Immediately my husband was standing by my side, and amidst the stillness that followed I heard his voice as he called loudly to those on deck for the skylights to be raised. The cabin was in utter ruin, the tables shattered, the chairs broken, and the place strewed with fragments of glass. At my feet an awful chasm yawned. Far down I could see a bright glare that told the ship was on fire. The explosion had passed close by where we slept. torn up the decks, both this and that beneath, and blown away the after-companion ladder by which we gained the poop. Fragments of the brass balusters alone hung down, which my husband seizing, by a vigorous effort he gained the poop; then, stooping down, he grasped my upraised hands, and in a few minutes I was lifted to the top. I felt as if the weight of worlds was in my limbs, and that I was powerless to struggle against the mountain crushing me down. My mind was keenly active, though my body was powerless, and I knew that it required the greatest exertion to raise me to the deck; yet I could do nothing to assist myself, though imagination kept vividly before me the picture of the awful fiery chasm down which I should be precipitated if my husband failed in his effort. The change was something more than earthly when I stood on the deck, bieathing the pure air, and look- ing on the tranquil shore of England, quietly resting on this balmy morning in the moon's soft light. I was there before the ship recovered from the shock; but then arose the wildest screams, and a tumult burst forth as if Bedlam had broken loose. I heard Colonel M. give directions to a soldier who rushed up, and I saw him grasp the arm of a man who staggered as if he would fall, and place him on a seat. This was the pilot, who had left the deck but an hour before for his first sleep for nights, when he was blown from the cuddy-table, where a bed had been made for him, through the skylight up to the poop. Then he dis- appeared, and I was left in the dress I had escaped in from my bed. My mind was still full of a dreamy though vivid idea of the actual circumstances, but by degrees the full reality came before me. The sirp was loaded with saltpetre. What if another explosion should blow us into fragments! The dim coast was tniles away, the fire rapidly gaining and seven hundred human beings on board. "Can we all be saved?" I mentally exclaimed. "How dreadful the scene will be as it draws to its final close." The ladies, es- caping through the ports of their cabins, now began to reach the poop, and the ship was in indescribable commotion. To add to the alarm%a woman of un- sound mind ran upon the main gangway, uttering fearful cries. I turned towards her, and saw that in her arms she carried a child charred to a cinder. It is not yours," exclaimed a soldier near. She immediately placed the little corpse on the deck, and speeded down again for her own little boy. I looked on the water, and saw the tide rippling against the side as it flowed swiftly past. Away over the surface I could discern two or three small craft, and about half a mile off lay the black hull of a man- of-war steamer. My eyes were fixed on this vessel. With daylight I observed that the men on board were in rapid motion, and that boats were dropping into the water. Suddenly a light flashed over the sea, aflauie burst from her port, followed by the loud roar of a heavy gun; then another and another, which rambled in echoes along the slumbering shore, and awoke the inhabitants of Portsmouth. For the first time this sound came pleasantly on my ear, as that of the signal guns of distress, not of the cannon of the enemy, and it spoke in tontS of hope, as it broke on that coast always familiar with disasters and quick to rescue. At first the only boat, except those the sailors had taken, was the cockle-shell of a pilot schooner, which came alongside, and into which the ladies were di- rected to get The dense throng of soldiers opened, and left a lane for the wives of their officers. As we were handed into the boat, and as I descended in a soldier's greatcoat and barefooted, I saw the colonel commanding the troops addressing the men and giving his orders. I well recollect the words that rang in my ears as we pushed off. Remember, men, that you are British soldiers." When I stepped on the deck of the pilot schooner, I was attired in the quaint costume I have described, but an addition was made to it by the kindness of one of the invalids, who lent me a pair of ammunition boots. The clothes Colonel M. had collected for me were lying on the deck of the ship. I had no time to put them on, and no in- clination or power to carry them. When I looked back, the ship was in a sheet of flame, her ports, as large as those of a frigate, being lit up with a dazzling glare. Dense smoke arose from the hatchway near the forecastle, where now were grouped the whole throng of people. The little boats under the bowsprit looked like midges playing about the head of the great Indiaman. I could see figures springing wildly from the ship into the sea, where they were picked up by the boats that seemed to fear too close a contact. The progress of the fire was ap- palling. The fitful flames rising from the hatches had become roaring volcanoes, and the ocean danced and glowed in a golden light. Then the mizen caught the flame-the ropes of the ship seemed to bear innumer- able little balls of fire, and the rigging was illuminated as for a holiday. I turned my gaze towards Portsmouth, and could scarcely control my emotion on beholding a lugger under press of sale, bearing down. She ran swift and straight to the Eastern Monarch, and dropped anchor under the forecastle of the burning ship. In an in- credibly short time the forecastle was deserted, and a dense mass of soldiers crowded the deck of the lugger. The flames sprang quickly on the foremast, and leaped up over the forecastle, but its prey was gone. The masts shortly after fell hissing into the sea and the fire, which had consumed the deck, now sprang up from the cargo with greater violence, and the heat was felt for hundreds of yards around. One short hour only was required for the destruction of the finest and strongest of England's merchant ships, and for the disembarkation of the 700 souls who bad been quietly sleeping in what now seemed a volcano raging on the sea. All escaped save seven. As I looked out to sea from Portsmouth, a huge tower of vapour shot into the heavens from the burning ship. The long-dreaded explosion had come at last. The dangerous cargo had ignited, and burst with a force that would have blown the decks into fragments had decks still been there. [Colonel and Mrs. Muter lost all their luggage, clothes, valuables, and all, and found themselves in London in such a destitute condition, that waiters looked suspicious and re- fused them accommodation at the hotel.]
ROMANTIC MOVEMENT IN CORK. A project is now on foot in Cork in connection with the Danish war which possesses the most romantic surroundings (says a Cork paper) :— It is contemplated to organise nothing less than a brigade of Irish gentlemen, to take service under the King of Denmark in the present war; and the par- ticulars of the design recal the ancient days of knight errantry from their romantic and chivalrous charac- ter. The projector of the design is a gentleman well known in leading Cork circles, from his professional abilities, his social eminence, and his great success in the hunting-field—in fact, none other than the gentle- man to whom we lately referred as being the leading actor in a romantic occurrence in the county through which the local theatre was crammed on a particular night, and a song composed and sung on the occasion in celebration of the beauty of a lady, the heroine of the same incident. This gentleman has designed the present enterprise, and has taken not a few of the preliminary steps to carry it to completion. He has in the first place written to the King of Den- mark, offering him the services of 100 Irish gentlemen in the war, the corps to be called the Alexandra Cent Gardes, in honour of the future Queen of England, the King of Denmark's daughter. These 100 gentle- men are all to be men of station and respectability in the south of Ireland, and are to equip and mount themselves during whatever campaign they may be called upon to serve in. Their uniform will consist of the national colours, and on their casques they will exhibit the appropriate motto Right against Might." The designer of this romantic scheme has not stopped here. He has furthermore written to the Prince of Wales asking his sanction of the movement, and his permission to adopt the name mentioned for the corps and has, besides, forwarded the details of the design to the Times, in which, probably to-morrow or next day, his letter on the subject will appear. The only return for this offer to the King of Denmark sought for, is that his Majesty should send a frigate to this harbour to transport the corps to the seat of war. We have it on excellent authority that 64 gentle- men from the south of Ireland, all of independent means, have already agreed to take part in the enter- prise, and we have been furnished with a long list of the principal names, which, however, we refrain at present from publishing. Tbe romance of the story does not stop at the details we have given. It is pro- posed to give a hall in the Athenaeum the night before the brigade leaves and it is arranged that at 6 o'clock in the morning the horses of the "Cent Gardes" will be in waiting for them—that they will then mount and ride to Queenstown, where they will embark in the Danish frigate which it js believed his Majesty will send for them, and sail away for the theatre of war. The project is so far carried out that several gentlemen have already purchased horses for the campaign, and the uniform of the Gardes" has been determined on. We shall probably have more to tell our readers on the subject at a future day.
HOW MURDER IS TRACKED IN AUSTRALIA. We know that England carries her laws to her colonies and endeavours there to carry them out with the same vigi- lance as in the mother country of her success we hear only occasionally, but when we do we generally find that the tracking of the guilty has been effected under difficulties. In Judge Therry's recent work, Thirty Years'Residence in New South Wales," we find the following successful results of trials by circumstantial evidence and the admission of the guilt by the murderers :— FIRST CASE. In March, 1846, William Shea was tried before me at the Maitland Circuit Court for the murder of Andrew Menzies. These men were partners in a farm near Maitland. The harvest of the year was prospe- rous, and promised considerable profit to both. Shea, prompted by avarice to become possessed of the whole of the property on the farm, perpetrated the murder of his partner, under circumstances of great cunning and atrocity. He spread a rumour that Menzies had left the farm, gone to England, and 'that he (Shea) had previously become purchaser of his share; in support of which statement he exhibited at the trial a forged instrument of sale. The story was too improbable to be credited, and the neighbours were determined to make a search for the body of Menzies, suspecting that this industrious old Scotch farmer, who had expressed no previous intention to his neighbours that he was leaving, had unfairly been made away with. For this purpose they formed a party, led by the intelligent police magistrate of the district. Mr. Day employed a few native blacks to join them in the search. The instinctive quickness with which the aborigines trace and discover crime has been in many instances tested by singular success. And here I give the account of the search as I took it down at the trial from the lips of the principal witness :— As Menzies had not been seen since he was in Shea's company at work in the tobacco paddock, late in the evening of the day on which he was last seen alive, we commenced the search in this paddock. We had not proceeded far when, at a stump-hole (a hole made by rooting out the stump of a large tree), one of the blacks suddenly stopped, and drew attention to the stump- hole, as there were marks of the soil having been re- cently disturbed and dug up there. Black ants were coming up and down out of the hole. One of the blocks called Mr. Day's attention to the circumstance, and ex- claimed, Something here On moving the soil beneath the stump-hole, the body of Menzies wasfound. The head had been pushed under a portion of the stump that had not been quite removed. The body at the time was in an advanced stage of decomposition; but from his grey hairs, which grew to an unusual length over the forehead, the clothes found upon the body—the same worn by Menzies on the evening he was last seen—and other marks, the identity was com- pletely established. But now oomes the most curious fact of coincidence with one proved on the trial of the case I shall next mention. At the trial of Shea it was proved that a tomahawk was found in his hut, and exhibited in Court, the handle of which was soiled with bl»od, though it had been recently scraped to elude detec- tion. In the eye of the tomahawk, however, or part where the wood enters the iron, there was a single grey hair, which, on comparison, was found to cor- respond with the hair of Menzies. Shea subsequently admitted his guilt to the clergyman who attended him to the scaffold. SECOND CASE. Just eighteen months afterwards, in the same circuit town of Maitland, John Purcell was tried before me for the murder of J oseph Palfrey, at a place called the Rivulet, in the district of Cassalis. The crime in this instance was instigated by jealousy and revenge. Purcell's wife had abandoned her husband and children, and cohabited with Palfrey. The cir- cumstances connected with the deed were extraor- dinary, but I confine myself to that part of the trial applicable to the purpose for which I cite it—the striking coincidences as to the finding of the body, and the resemblance of the hair found in the eye of a tomahawk—which in both cases materially aided in proof of the identity of the murdered man. The dis- covery of the body took place thus: — Mr. Brady, a settler, while Purcell was in custody, finding the place deserted, visited the neighbourhood of Purcell's hut with some sheep, to establish a station there. On going to a water-hole about one hundred yards from the hut lately occupied by Purcell, his attention was attracted to a spot scratched apparently by a dog's paw. He noticed large flies settling on the spot; these flies, on being disturbed, returned and lodged there again. Brady then drew the ramrod from his gun, and thrust it into the hole where he noticed flies going up and down. By the smell at the end of the ramrod, be ascertained there was putrid flesh below. The result was the finding the body of Palfrey, sewn up in a bag, about three feet down. Besides the coincidence in these two cases as to the finding of the bodies, there was the further one that in the hut of Purcell was found, concealed under the mattress of his bed, a tomahawk. On its being ex- hibited in Purcell's presence, he evinced much uneasi- ness, and said to a person present, "I had some hopes until the tomahawk was found, but I have none now." In the eye of this tomahawk a few liairs of auburn- brown appeared in precisely the corresponding part of the weapon where the grey hair of Menzies was found. These hairs corresponded exactly in colour to the hair of Palfrey. The jury recommenaed Purcell to mercy, in which recommendation I fully concurred; u:id his sentence was commuted from death to labour on the roads, for a period prescribed by a local ordinance in like instances. The motive that prompted the deed in these two cases was widely different. Shea was guilty of de- liberate murder, from a motive of avarice; Purcell's case was one of less aggravated guilt. The facts in proof on his trial led to the conclusion that he killed Palfrey with the tomahawk as he lay asleep at night, when both men were alone together in Purcell's hut; but the evidence at the trial disclosed that the provocation was gross.
THE DWELLING-PLACES OF AGRI- CULTURAL LABOURERS. I beg again to ask your indulgence while I attempt, in a few word! to justify your remarks on the labourers' homes in the agricultural districts (writes Mr. Samuel Clarke, Sanitary Inspector, Norwich, and then proceeds as fol- lows) :— Since my last letter I have been appealed to to fur- nish names and places. To this I have objected, for many reasons but at the same time I shall not shrink from giving the fullest details should I ever be called before a Parliamentary committee. It seems to be assumed by some that my remarks exclusively apply to "open parishes." I desire, there. fore, publicly to state that the evil abounds in both open and close parishes, and, with your permission, I would direct attention to the following cases, as taken from my notes of observation on the estates of a lord, a baronet, an M.P., an ex-M.P., and one who sought the honour of being an M.P., a wealthy squire, and an instance, also. from an open parish. 1. The first is a cottage with one very small ill- ventilated sleeping-room occupied by eight persons, while the man's mother, who lives with him, and is totally blind, sleeps in the pantry. 2. An old clay hut with two chambers. One room is occupied by a man and his wife, the other by his son aged 18, son 22, daughter 34, and her illegitimate child. 3. A cottage with two bedrooms; one of them is a small lean-to built over a washhouse. There are two beds in this small room, in one of which sleep the two sons, aged 19 and 21, and in the other sleep the daughter and her husband, who at the time of my visit had been married only a week. 4. A cottage with two bedrooms, occupied by a man, his wife, and seven children. The parents sleep in one room, and all the children, including boys and girls of the following ages, in the other:—A girl aged 5, girl 10, boy 13, boy 14, girl 16, boy 19, girl 20. Size of the room only 7ft. wida and 17ft. long. The rooms are, moreover, both close and badly ventilated. This large family have no privy accommodation whatever. 5. A cottage with only one bedroom, occupied by a man and his wife, daughter 4, daughter 6, son 8, daughter 10, daughter 12, son 14, and daughter 16. This room is said to be suffocating in warm weather. The eldest daughter, only 16, is in the family-way. They say they want another bedroom badly, but this is the best house they can get; the one they have just left is even smaller. This large family have no privy whatever. 6. A clay hovel, cracked and tumbling about in all directions inside and out. There are but two rooms, both on the same level, and necessarily dirty, from the crumbling of the walls and ceiling. In the small, ill- ventilated place used for sleeping stand two old, broken, stump bedsteads, side by side, and covered only with rags, one of the bedsteads being appropriated by the mother, who is a widow, and a daughter aged 20 while a daughter aged 12, a daughter aged 14, and a son aged 16, sleep together on the other. 7. A wretched old hovel, consisting of two low rooms. The sleeping-room is very small, lift, by 10ft. 4in., occupied by a man and his wife and three daughters, aged 20, 16, and 13. 8. An old hovel, with two low rooms, occupied by a man, his wife, and five children, of the following ages Son 18, daughter 14, daughter 7, daughter 5, and son 2. Size of the sleeping-room only 10ft. 5in. by 9ft. 6in. The eldest son sleeps in the so-called kitchen of the three smallest children, one is diseased, one is idiotic, and the third is speechless and paralysed. The man having left his own parish for three years, upon his return was unable again to obtain any regular employment. As a sanitary officer, I can speak of the ravages of desolating fever originating from neglect of sanitary arrangements, and have had a painful experience of the gloom and sorrow that overhang a fever-stricken parish. I have also had ample opportunity of witnessing the interior arrangements of the homes of the agricul- tural labourers, and should feel myself guilty of gross inhumanity did I not seek to give my humble aid in the endeavour to secure for them a dwelling where something like decency can be observed.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF TRAINING. The following pithy remarks on forced training which are to be found in the Cornhill Magazine of this month, are so valuable,fthat we reprint them as under It is of paramount importance that we should bear in mind what are the whole results of training. That in one special direction great vigour is achieved, is true; and we, admiring this result, are too apt to generalise from it, and infer that in all directions the success has been equaL But it is not so. The mus- cular system has been forced into undue development, and this development has been at the expense of the general vitality. All forcing is inj urious, except for the special object which is sought. The fighter has his muscular system in splendid condition; but his other systems are robbed to enrich that one; just as the ner- vous system of the student is in a state of intense activity at the expense of Bis muscles or glands. Nay, -and the fact is worth emphasis,—the powerful athlete is less able than the feeble student to stand the wear and tear of life. It was noted in Rome that the athletes were short- lived, liable, as Sinclair admits, to rupture of blood- vessels, to apoplexy, and lethargic complaints," and it has since been observed that not only do prize- fighters rapidly become aged and very rarely live long, but even the famous oarsmen of the universities show a surprising mortality. It has been urged that the athletes and fighters are carried off by dissipation. Without claiming for such men any peculiar modera- tion, we must still claim for them that they are not more dissolute than their companions, who ought to succumb more easily to excesses if the popular notions about strength were accurate. But the truth is that the strength of a prize-fighter is to a great extent an abnormal condition, produced at the expense of the general system. The amount of vital energy which should be distributed among several organs has been so unequally apportioned, that some are starved while others are overfed. It was known of old that for cer- tain functions the athletes were almost totally inca- pacitated. That they have always been unfit for in- tellectual and moral activities is equally notorious. A man may have inherited a powerful brain with a powerful muscular system. The union is rare, but there is no physiological reason against it there is, however, no possibility of even this man's preserving his intellectual vigour during a course of over-stimula- tion of his muscles, all excess in one direction being compensated by a deficiency in the other. For perfect health both should be kept active, never stimulated to excess. In the case of training, where, as we said, the object is to work up the muscular system to its highest pitch, the man may be magnificent to look upon and formidable to contend against, but he has been unfitted for the work of life, and is doomed to wither early. The training system is a forcing system; were it continued long, it would kill; even for a brief space it is injurious. It is an exceptional process for an ex- ceptional result, not the normal process for a. healthy organism.
A CURIOUS PHOTOGRAPHIC CASE. An action was brought on Thursday in last week at the Salford Court of Record, before Mr. Kay, to recover the value (221.) of two portraits, coloured photographs of the defendant, taken by the plaintiff. The plaintiff is the well- known photographer in Manchester. In 1861 a young and attractive-looking English- woman called upon him to have her portrait taken, giving the name of the Countess Peneflores. She was exceedingly anxious about the portraits, and called several times during their progress to suggest alterations, &c. When the pictures were finished they were sent by her orders to Messrs. Bolongaro to be framed, and were, according to Mr. Eastham, to be called for there by the defendant. When the portraits had remained at Messrs. Bolongaro's for several weeks, no one calling, they were returned to Mr. Eastham, who, failing to find the countess, let the matter rest till December last, when a lady with a young child called upon him for the portrait of the latter. The portraits that had been taken three years before were hanging in Mr. Eastham's studio, and the lady, looking at them, said in a low voice to her maid, who was with her, "Do you know that ? It is very like; the dog appears to know it." Mr. Eastham happened to overhear this remark, and his attention being called to the lady, he saw in her the quondam Countess de Peneflores, and the original of the portraits. He asked her if it was not so, and this she strenuously denied. Mr. Easthammade inquiries concerning her, and learnt that she had passed under a variety of names (Emma Normanby, among the rest), and was now living near Cheadle, under the name of the Countess Trenifiadi. The portraits were sent to the address of the lady pass- ing under the latter name, who repudiated them. The defence set up was that there were two ladies, Emma Normanby and Countess Peneflores being one, and who had personated the present defendant on several occasions. A photograph of the Countess Trt-nitiadi was exhibited, which it was alleged was that of a very different person from Emma Normanby; but the jury found that they were one and the same person and found a verdict for the plaintiff.
MR. GRAVES NOT LIKING HIS WIFE! In the Court of Probate and Divorce, a somewhat peculiar case (Graves v. Graves) has been heard; and was the petition of Dania Mary Graves for a dissolution of marriage on ac- count of her husband's adultery and desertion of her Her maiden name was Howlin, and on the 29th of May, 1860, she was married, at Dublin, to the respon- dent, John Bellew Graves, a gentleman of independent property. After the wedding the parties came to England and lived together till the 21st of August. At that time they were residing at Tenby and the petitioner said she went away because her husband had been constantly telling her that he wished her to return to her family. The night before the separation he had insulted her before her friends, and she thought that he had done it for the purpose of driving her away. Having a fortune of her own, she had paid all the expenses while she was with him. At the beginning of October she saw him at an hotel at Ferryside, a station on the South Western Railway, and asked him to allow her to remain with him. He told her that that could not be, and she returned to her old lodgings at Teaby, where she stayed for some little time. A number of letters passed, but no reconciliation was effected, and the petitioner at length returned to Ireland. Several other attempts were made, both by her and by her friends, to come to a better under- standing with him, but they all failed, the respondent flatly refusing to have her back. It must be added, that during the matrimonial cohabitation of nearly three months the respondent had never made any I attempt to complete his marriage. He had since left the country. The explanation of his strange conduct which he gave to a friend was that he had been years ago attached to Mias Howlin, that the engagement had been broken off, and that it was only the persuasion of his friends that had induced him, much against his will, to renew it. He had also written the following letter to his brother-in-law Landyfilog, October 15, 1860. To James Howlin. You wish me to state my reasons for having, or rather de- siring, that my wife should leave me, and that we should live separately. They are simply that I from my heart dis- like my wife, and this feeling existed before our marriage, but in a less exaggerated form. I believe her to be a good and virtuous woman, and to a man who loved her she would make a good and devoted wife. She has done all in her power to please me, but of no avail. I feel miserable in her society; consequently, she must feel equally so in mine, and I think it better we should, as many do, live separately. That, on the other hand, my wife knowing my feelings, can come to my house at Glenmorlais, if she chooses to live on the same terms we have always done since the day of our marriage. I will answer any letters James Howlin may think proper to address to me on this subject. J. B. G. A young woman named Williams, whom the re- spondent had seduced in 1856, and whom he had engaged as a servant after his marriage, deposed that she had borne children to him on the 17th May, 1860, and on the 23rd of May, 1863.. For the first he allowed her 5s. per week, and for the second 2s. 6d. After this a decree nisi, with costs, was granted.
NOBLE CHAFF. The Earl of Derby, in his speech on the Address, playfully compared Earl Russell to Bottom, the weaver. A peer who is accustomed to spin yarns, might as well have said nothing about weavers. If one noble lord calls another by a name which is an euphemism for an ass, no wonder that the other should retort in terms of corresponding courtesy. Accordingly we find the Foreign Secretary giving the noble lord, the leader of the Opposition in the House of Lords, a reply equivalent to "You're another," and something more. As thus:— But I will now proceed to the comments which the noble earl has made upon my conduct. He began with a good deal of wit and with a good many facts. But while his wit was excellent in itself—indeed, there could be none better, seeing that it was all taken from Shakspeare—the facts of the liable earl, which were his own, had no more foundation thfl" the story of Bottom, the weaver, himself. The dream of Bottom, the weaver, of course the mis- reported Minister said. My dream shall be called Bottom's dream, because it hath no bottom." Sú, neither, says the noble Earl Russell, had the facts of the noble Earl of Derby. And then, quoting Sheri- dan, the former noble earl said that the latter borrowed his wit from his memory, and his facts from his imagination"—in other words, spoke the thing that was not. And so began the Parliamentary new year in their Lordships' House with the compli- ments of the Session.—Punch.
THE FRmNCH PRESS AND THE QUEEN'S SPEECH. Very sarcistic and disparaging observations are made by the French press both upon the Queen's speech and the attitude of Ministers, the journals especially inspired by the French Government taking the lead. The Pays says:— The Queen's speech throws no light upon any pend- ing question; it in no way whatever describes the general situation of Europe. What it says of the affair of the Duchies is so vague that nobody can make anything of it; notody can tell from it what is to be hoped, what is to be feared, what is desirable, or what is not desirable—in a word, the speech is an ad- mirable illustration of the axiom that words were given to man in order that he might conceal his thoughts. La France makes these observations :— The Foreign Office has interfered right and left in the Dano-German conflict. It has encouraged Denmark; it has written note after note to the German Powers, to prevent them from attacking Schleswig; it has pro- tested, conj ured, threatened. And now, after all, Lord Russell declares himself freed from any engagement towards Denmark and Lord Palmerston lays hold of the declarations lately made by Austria and Prussia to show that these Powers are in reality friends of Denmark, and have no thought of breaking up the Danish monarchy. What can be thought of a Power which accepts with submission and almost with grati- tude, conduct against which it but the other day pro- tested with all its might ? The Opinion Nationale attributes the dead lock of English policy to the family alliances of the Queen, and quotes from the International of London a paragraph attributing to her Majesty the expression that she would rather abdicate than allow a single ship to sail against Germany. It then says Denmark may be indignant, but what can she do ? We ask whether France will remain as quiescent as England? We say it without the least feeling of miserable jealousy or rancour towards our neighbours on the other side of the Channel, but we cannot help uying that this great British nation, which those even who do not like her have beenin the habit of respecting, is on the point of falling very low and to what is this lamentable decadence to be attributed, if not to that decrepit aristocracy by which it has the weakness to allow itself to be governed, and to that coterie of super- annuated statesmen which mistakes senile cunning for able policy ? The Patrie writes as follows :— The ministry has given no intimation as to the atti- tude England will take towards Denmark and Ger- many. The Royal speech recapitulates the stipulation of the treaty of 1852, enumerates the Powers which adhered to that treaty, and hints, rather than asserts, that in the eyes of England the treaty is obligatory. But, to enforce its provisions, will negotiations alone be employed ? or, if they fail, will there be an appeal to arms ? Is this appeal to arms one of the dangers of which the English Government warns other Powers. These are secrets which the ambiguous wording of the speech does not disclose. The Presse has the following;- Queen Victoria's speech, from its insipidity, justifies that rule of conduct traced out by the Presse relative to England. "Nothing against her; nothing with her; everything without her." Denmark must have reck- oned on the support of England. What assurance does she receive from the mouth of the Queen ? Eng- does she receive from the mouth of the Queen ? Eng- land promises Denmark to "continue her efforts in the interest of peace." That is the assurance made to Denmark by England and the support which the latter country affords when the Danes, besieged by the Austrian and Prussian armies, are attacked without pity and insulted without dignity. Is it not a derision to promise to "continue efforts in the interest of peace" when war has already broken out ? The Debats thus writes upon this subject:— It would be vain to seek in the Queen's speech for any precise clue to the policy which England intends to follow in the Dano-Germanic question. If all that was to be done was to ascertain what the English cabi- net desires, we are very amply informed on that point, as the Queen makes the integrity of Denmark a dogma in the political faith of England. But if the question is asked—what sacrifices England intends to make for defending what she considers to be just and useful to her interests, a perplexity arises. The Queen declares that England had done everything, and will continue to do all in her power to maintain the peace of Europe, and smother in its germ the conflagration which is breaking out on the banks of the Eider. From that declaration it is certain that England will do every- thing she can; but whether she will make war or not is another thing. The Constitutionnel says :— The Queen's speech is principally devoted to the affairs of the Duchies, which is a fresh proof of the interest felt in that question on the other side of the Channel. We must, however, say that, notwithstand- ing all the development that the opening speech gives to the explanation of the Danish conflict, little or no information is derived from it. The difference which exists between Denmark and Germany bears, as has frequently been observed, on two points—the succes- sion and the constitutional question. As regards the latter, it is passed over in silence in the Royal speech; and as to the former, the document only mentions the clauses of the protocol of London and the names of the Powers who signed it. The ministerial papers had predicted that the speech would be colourless public opinion therefore waited impatiently for the ministerial explanations which, said the organs of Lord Palmer- ston and Earl Russell, would be as clear as possible. But, after an attentive perusal of the debates, we must say that the policy of the ministry still remains en- veloped in the same obscurity.
THE INVASION OF SCHLESWIG. The earliest news, except the telegrams, from the seat of war in Schleswig has come from the correspondent of the Times, and from his account we select the following:— The war began this morning (Feb. 1), as the tele- graph will have informed you. On this, the right of the line, the Prussians crossed at Levensau, two miles from Kiel. Just arrived here, I have but a few moments to send you a line. As soon as possible a more detailed letter will follow this hasty scrawl. The contemplated movement was kept very secret, and surprised everybody—probably the Danes themselves as much as any one for just outside this town they had begun cutting trenches across the road, but had not accomplished a fourth part of their intention. Some Danish vessels in Eckernforde creek fired on the columns as they passed along a causeway, but the Prussian artillery replied, and the ships soon drew off and were outside before I reached the place. As far as I have yet ascertained, the advance was accomplished with scarcely even a skirmish on this part of the line. Details, however, it is as yet im- possible to obtain with any accuracy. What I can speak to as of my own knowledge is, that soon after noon on the road between Kiel and this some artillery was audible, but it lasted only for a short time, and as we passed the curved causeway which immediately precedes the straight bit of road leading into Eckern- forde we came upon the holes made by the heavy shot, which had plunged into the rising ground immedtately on our left. At the frontier, Levensau, there is a bridge over the Eider with poste marking the division between Holstein and Schleswig. Here the Danish sentries had been driven in at 5 this morning, firing two or three harmless shots. The road from Kiel for fully two-thirds of the way to Eckernforde was one line of baggage waggons, commissariat carts, ammunition, and artillery, with infantry escorting. A person who witnessed the passage of the frontier informed me that each succeeding battalion or squadron crossed it with shouts of "Hurrah for Schleswig-Holstein!" and I observed this to be the case with those troops which passed it at the same time with myself. Thanks to a smart driver and to the great civility and good nature of the Prussians, both officers and men, we were enabled to get along the road at a more rapid pace than the column moving in the same direction. There is a slight coating of snow rpon the ground, barely concealing the earth of the fields, but trodden and frozen into ice upon the road, and extremely slippery, making it most difficult for horses to keep their feet unless roughed, and this, as far as I could see, none of the army horses were. The Schleswig-Holstein tricolour, which has resumed its place in company with the German red-black-gold banner in the streets of Kiel, pursued us along the road, and greeted us the very instant we entered Schleswig. Just over the bridge stands the house of a Dane, a sluice-keeper, who was known to have delivered over a Holstein deserter from the Danish ranks. We learned there that the Prussians had taken him to serve as a guide. The troops were in tjie very highest spirits, cheering and singing Schleswig-Holstein airs and their own national one of "Ich bin Preusae," — • —' S< i and manifesting their good humour by ready salutes t. civilians who had flocked out from Kiel, arid whom one overtook, for the most part on foot, all along the road. I must say that, judging from my-observations on to- day's march, I doubt whether the Prussian army clearly understands that it is sent'hither by M. von Bismark, not only to take Schleswig from the Danes, but also to preserve it for and restore it to them. It strikes me that the Schleswig-Holstein cause, or idea, or what- ever it may be called, has taken considerable hold of the Prussian soldiery. But of this more hereafter. What I may say for the present is, that there seems r- prodigious disposition amoh'g them to fraternise with the Schleswigers. They are now going about the streets arm-in-arm with them, and groups are assem- bling with banners, for there is shortly to be the pro- clamation in the market-place of Frederick VIII., Duke of Schleswig-Holstein. He has already been proclaimed in various other places—probably in every one from which the Danes have retired. The sky is bright, clear, and cold, and there is every appearance of a duration of the very sharp frost which has petrified I the ground, fringed the eaves all along the road with long un-dripping icicles, and haa converted the waters of the bay, to some distance from. the shore, into a sheet of ice. The sheet, however, is thin, and I can discern no ice floating in the bay. The frost may last all through February, and greatly increase in intensity. On the other hand, a shift of the wind, such as would bring thaw and rains, such as we had a few days ago, would be in no way surprising at this period of the winter. Should this occur, I need not tell you that it will be a great gain to the Danes. If, on the other hand, the frost holds, thus destroying those natural defences of inundations and other waters to pass which constitutes so important a part of the j strength of the Dannewerk, it would not be surprising f if the Danes retired to the island of Alsen, whenoe they would menace the flank of the advancing Ger- mans, and might, at a future day, advance and try to retake the Dannewerk, which offers no strong posi- tions for defence on that side.
To the above we may attach an extract from the corre spondence in the Morning Star:— Treading closely on the heels of the Prussians, we neared the spot where the combat had taken place, and reached it before sunset. The situation is ex- tremely picturesque. The bay where the Danish vessels had been in the morning, the town of Eckern- forde in the distance, and the wood and qdge of hills by which the road from Kiel passes, form a scene worthy of a painter's skill; and a romantic interest was given it on this occasion by the presence of a com- pany of Prussians, resting after their march on a bank near the place of encounter, of which, however, no other trace was to be seen. We were politely saluted by these troops and their officer, and heard the history of the day's fightagain from their mouths, the accounts differing only in trifling details from what we had already been told. We were now within an hour's walk of the Prussian position in the town of Eckernforde, and immediately pushed on, reaching it at nightfall. Streets with the Schleswig-Holstein flag fluttering over every house, an illumination of candles at every window, and crowds of men and boys running through the streets singing the Schleswig-Holstein national song, soon told us how the Prussians bad been received. The people seem mad with joy at having got rid of the Danes; the whole town is in the streets, holding a sort of jubilee; and at this moment I can hardly write for the shouting and singing of the crowd outside the window.
AMUSING ANECDOTES of a BRIGAND. The correspondent of the London Morning Post says that there are among the prisoners in the gaols at Rome no fewer than 40 Neapolitans, untried, although not uncondemned and at the head of these is Pilone, the famous Calabrese bandit, who boasted of having had 300 men under his orders, and very proud he seemed to be of his achievements. Some of the anecdotes of Pilone's exploits would gladden the heart of Victor Hugo or Dumas, and make the fortune of the Porte St. Martin. The following are some of the ? anecdotes related of him by the before-mentioned corre- spondent :— It may interest young ladies who dream of brigands in sugar-loaf hats and pictureesque costume to know that Pilone is a tall, well-made man, about 40 years of age, or it may be a little younger and that, in all the transactions in which he has taken part, he has shown an admirable courage, coolness, and address. His audacity is matchless. At the time when thousands of scudi were offered for him, dead or alive, he went into Naples, leaving his band at the foot of Vesuvius, and took a box at the San Carlo, and between the acts he got into conversation with the captain of the guard, who informed him that he was under orders next morning to command the corps which was to go in search of Pilone. On leaving the theatre, when the guard was dismissed, Pilone invited the officer to join him at a cafe on the Toad to Vesuvius. After a short t time passed together, Pilone took his leave, and ex- changed cards with the captain, whose astonishment < may be imagined when he saw, written in large letters, the name of the dreaded bandit. 5 His adventure with the director of the bank, Signor | Avitabile, made a great sensation at the time. This 1 important functionary was accustomed to drive daily ■ by the sea-side. In broad daylight, one afternoon, £ while crowds were in the streets, Pilone entered the town with one of his most trustworthy followers. I Suddenly the lieutenant called to the coachman to | stop, and jumped on the box. In a moment Pilone let down the steps, and was seated by M. Avitabile. The coachman, under the threat of having his brains blown out, drove on towards Vesuvius. In vain the 1 poor director endeavoured to let down the windows I to call for assistance he was held tigh fc in Pilone's | iron grasp. Arrived at the mountain, they were met •! by a detachment of the band, the director placed on a ? horse, and in the face of the whole population carried off to the mountains. A large ransom was demanded, one half of which being paid, Avitabile was permitted to return to his home but here comes the pith of the story. Pilone, seeing a statement in the papers that he had received the full amount of the ransom, which had been repaid by the Government, sent a statement of the exact sum he had received to the papers, and the director stood charged with having pocketed the difference. Another anecdote before we leave this interesting hero of the highway. On one occasion the Govern- ment made arrangements which it was thought could not fail to seize Pilone, at a time when he was known to visit Pompeii daily to meet a young lady to whom he was deeply attached. As he was leaving the trysting-place, suddenly a corps of gendarmes ap- peared, but, before they could fire, Pilone, armed with a rifle and a brace of revolvers, shot two of them, leaped over a low wall, and was off like a deer; but, alas, he ran into another detachment which had been sent round to meet him. There he was greeted with a volley which missed him, for he seemed to bear a charmed life here, two more of his enemies fell, and, leaping over every obstacle, he made for the sea, cutting away at his dress as he pro* j ceeded, so that when he arrived at the shore he was in ] a fit state for a bath. In he jumped, and, being a strong swimmer, he dived under the waves when the volleys of musketry rang around him. Only one shot hit him in the ankle, b at was not sufficient to impede his progress. After a little time he was picked up by a fishing boat, and at nightfall was again at the head of his band.
PIRACY THEN AND NOW! In a leader of the Times on the late trial for murder and piracy on the high seas, we find the following interesting observations Mr. Froude in the latest volume of his "History of England" has dedicated an entire chapter to the development of a proposition which will probably take the present generation by surprise. He tells us, and tells us truly, that the maritime supremacy of England originated in successful piracy. The age in which these customs prevailed was not a remote age, like that of the sea kings of the North. It was the age of Queen Elizabeth and Shakspeare, and yet in those days the gentlemen of our maritime counties, men of good 'lineage and respectable education, thought it no shame to fit out ships for the express purpose of robbing other ships. Strange to say, there was a religious impulse in the matter. The common prey of these adventurers was the Spaniard, and the Spaniard was an object of abhorrence and dread as the champion of Papal fanaticism. So the Protestant gentlemen of England made war upon the great adversary, and plundered his treasure ships with the comfortabfe conviction that they were making righteous as well as handsome profits, until in the end their adventures produced that intrepid and skilful race of seamen who afterwards defeated the Armada, and founded the maritime power-of Britain. The risk from piracy is hardly reckoned among the perils of the deep, and even such crews as that of the Flowery Land are for the most part found to be faith- ful and trustworthy under more than ordinary tempta- tions. They are often ill-fed and ill-used. The very men whose numbers give them overpowering strength submit to maltreatment without resistance or retalia- tion, .and if the annals of crime were curiously searched, the cases of cruelty and oppression on the part of the officers would be found far more numerous than the examples of dishonesty or violence on the part of the men. There was once a time when no vessel could put to sea without as much risk from pirates as would now be incurred from an enemy during a maritime war. Certain waters and certain harbours were known to be perilous, and were passed with as much caution as the most dangerous shoals. But all this is now changed, and changed not by the operations of a vigilant police, but by the progress of habit and opinion. In Euro- pean waters there is probably no such character as the genuine old flirate now existing, though the seas are covered with vessels carrying infinitely greater richea than were ever known in times past.
LOVETAND SUICIDE! The town of Evreux, France, has just been the scene of a tragical event which has caused great excitement among the population. Early in the morning of a day last week, the bodies of a man and young woman were found lying close to- gether on a piece of waste ground near the gas works. The young woman's head was nearly severed from the body, and the man had evidently shot himself with a pistol, which, as well as a razor, lay beside him. The deceased was soon identified as a maid-servant named Drouin, lately living with a family at Evreux, and a labourer named Merkel, residing in a neighbouring village. The circumstances which led to this double crime are as follows :— Merkel was a native of Bohemia, and had served in the Austrian army in 1859, when he was taken prisoner and sent to France. He was so well pleased with his position as farm-servant at Boisset-les-Prevanches, that when peace was con- cluded he refused to return home. Some few weeks since he made offers of marriage to the young woman, and was accepted both by herself arid her parents, but when he applied to the Austrian Embassy to obtain the certificates required by the French laws, he was apprised that by staying in France he had become a deserter, and that no certifi- cates could be given him till he had surrendered and stood his trial by court-martial. As soon as.the girl's parents were informed of tbis,they told Merkel that, aa marriage was impossible under the circumstances, he must cease visiting their dfcuglfter. The decision ap- pears to have driven him mad, for he immediately adopted the fatal resolution of destroying both her and himself.