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ARMORIAL BEARINGS. --

I. REJOICE, REJOICE, EACH…

EPITOME OF NEWS,

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SYMPATHY IN INDIA WITH THE…

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MURDER IN BIRMINGHAM.

COUNTY COURT FEES.

*..M' EPISCOPACY AND PRESBYTERIANISM.

WOMANHOOD SUFFRAGE.

"AND WHAT IS THE END OF IT…

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The Daily News also makes the following reflections upon the career of Fisk The murder of Mr. James Fisk, In New York, is the not inappropriate end of a career as strange as fiction itself has ventured to draw. No society in the world, except just that which at present exists in the United States, could have afforded a favouring scope for such a man. The absence of all the barriers of caste, the liberty allowed to every career, the almost limitless opportunities of money-making, and the lack of those distinctions of rank and dignity which would give even to selfish ambition some other object than mere money-making—these are the conditions which specially favoured the course of such a being as Fisk. Bold and un- scrupulous as a brigand, he had the cleverness and cunning of a police detective, and the boisterous animal spirits of a schoolboy. He was like no other famous adventurer in finance the world has known.. He was not liko Law or De Momy, because he was utterly unlettered and vulgar he was not like Hudson or Mirfis, for he took a buoyant and exuberant delight In the wild excitement of his gam- bling adventures, and the enterprises which would have made another man thoughtful and grave only rendered him more roystering and jovial. His energy and activity were positively irrepressible. These qualities could only find relief in incessant excitement and adventure of every kind. Coarse in manners and in tastes, full of strange oaths, reckless of speech, he had a rough, broad sort of humour which often was remarkably shrewd, pithy, and expressive. A man of undoubted ability, possessed of some- thing bearing a grotesque resemblance to genius, endowed certainly with a cool and calculating brain, he might easily have been taken by a stranger for a foolish buffoon or over- grown schoolboy. While he was gambling for millions, staking fortune after fortune on this or that cast of the financial dice he delighted in little vanities of which a waiting-maid would have been ashamed, and humours which sometimes brought with them suggestions of a lunatic asylum. He made him- self one of the sights of New York as he drove his open carriage with six or perhaps eight white horses slowly through the streets. He organized a regiment, and was proud to wear the uniform, and to be called Colonel; indeed, he turned out with his regiment duriDg the riot of last summer, and got wounded in the leg. He ran" a line of magni- ficent steamers from New York to Boston, and it used to gratify him to bedizen himself in the costume of a naval officer, and the more people laughed, the better he seemed to be pleased. He adorned with his own portrait or bust the palace-cars of the famous Erie line of railway. He became the proprietor of a huge theatre in an out-of-the-way part of the city, and he loved to play at Manager, and to sit nightly in the manager's box, in full evening costume, with diamonds glittering on his fat fingers and on the vast breastplate of snowy shirt which he displayed. His habits were—there is little scandal in saying it-openly and daringly profligate. He lost his life in consequence of a shameless quarrel and a law intrigue. He was probably under forty years of age when the bullet of his former associate put a premature stop to his career. He may be said to have lived and died like the Cavalier soldier in Scott's romance, "hoping nothing, believing nothing, and fearing nothing." A few years ago James Fisk was a travelling pedlar, as his father had been before him. He was born at Brattleborough, in Vermont, where the beautiful Connecticut river divides the broken and picturesque landscapes of the Green iloun- tain State from the yet finer scenery of New Hampshire. He hawked buttons and staylaces through the towns and vil- lages of New England, and was known fora voluble tongue, a pleasant, boyish, and rather handsome face, and a remarkable gift of making bargains. He pushed himself in the world, aud became a commercial traveller. At last, following his star he came to New Y'ork. He came there at a time when the two great powers, the two grand sources of influence and fields of adventure—the railways and the gold market—were be- ginning to tempt unscrupulous ambition. The rail- way corporations in the United States are the most powerful influence existing there so powerful that people talk of the necessity of some radical change in the conditions of their organisation, if the railway boards are not absolutely to govern the country. The fluctuations in the value of gold caused by the vicissitudes of the war, the impossibility of knowing with any certainty what might be the effect of this or that impending battle, had converted the Go'd Room of the Stock Exchange into a vast gambling hall, where men coolly played for sums tenfold as great as those which the most reckless gamesters of Baden- Baden will venture to stake. Into both these fields of enterprise the intrepid Fisk plunged forthwith. Fisk began to wallow in money. It does not appear that he cared much about the money when he had it. Many generous things are said to have been done by him. But he loved the excitement of getting the money, of winning it from other people, of spending it, and having his prodigal expenditure talked about. He had a faith worthy of Walpole himself in the power of bribery. He seems to have honestly believed) there was nothing any man or woman would not sell for a sufficient price. When he and his colleagues planned the famous Gold Conspiracy—one of the most daring and stupendous swindling enterprises on record-Fiak appears to have taken it for granted that he could buy the connivance of President Grant, and not to have believed, until the President's decisive action crushed his enterprise, that there could he official integrity above the temptation of money. The history of that enterprise is too well known to need recapitu- lation. Fisk bore the collapse, exposure, and danger with the same jovial effrontery which always cha- racterised him. He afterwards gave evidence before a Com- mittee of Congress, and explained his own share in the con- spiracy with a jaunty and good-humoured cynicism worthy of Robert Macaire. I knew," he coolly said, describing his own sensations when the tidings came that Government had resolved to interfere, that the time had come for every man to drag his corpse out the best way he could." Failure seemed to Fisk almost as capital a piece of pleasantry as success. The Gold Conspiracy over, Fisk schemed and swaggered, gambled and spent, just the same as before, always seeming to have limitless resources at his command. The carriage and the white horses were still as showy as ever the champagne flowed as freely; the diamonds t glittered not less brightly on the shirt-front of ) the amateur Manager. A weekly contemporary, speaking of Flak's career at the time of the Gold Conspiracy, asked whether there was anything that money could not enable a man to command in New York. There was one thing that no money and no apparent success could do for Mr. Fisk there-neither money nor success could open for him the doors of any decent house. It would have been as easy to procure for Bill Sykes an invitation to a small dinner party in Park-lane, as to induce any respectable merchant, banker, or journalist of New York to receive Mr. Fisk under his roof. Fisk was a social outlaw, and probably rather liked it, preferring his own congenial associates of both sexes to any manner of companionship which might have made him feel less at his ease. Of late his reign was obviously threatened with dis- aster. His position and his chances were bound up with those of Tammany, and in the fall of that noble institution he must have seen foreshadowed his own doom. But he was so young a man, so full of animal activity and mental energy and he nved in a country so inexhaustible in its fields of enterprise, that even had every one of his existing schemes collapsed beneath him, Fisk might have been ex- pected to come up fresh and smiling on the crest of some new enterprise. He narrowly escaped a violent death during the fury of the Gold Conspiracy, and only death could quell his restless and unscrupulous passion for excitement. Half his life he gave to money-making, half to pleasure, each pastime alike vulgar and lawless and the very manner of his end, and the low intrigues which led to it, have robbed death it- self of the dignity of a tragedy. It may be hoped that each succeeding day will tend to remove from American enter- prise the peculiar condition which allowed 01 such a career as that now closed by the bullet of an assassin—the career of a man who might have been a Catiline in Old R. >me, but was Colonel James Fisk in New York.

SINGULAR DEATH BY FIRE.

SCHOOLBOYS TO THE RESCUE!

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THE DREADFUL DEATH AT A MENAGERIE.

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MR. SPURGEON ON SUNDAY-SCHOOL…

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EMIGRATION FROM LIVERPOOL…