The Welshman

I TOPICS OF THE DAY. I   I THE VANES OR FANES. I ^8 ?' who Succeeded as eight Enl of {i080^* 1. itid, die4.Novel? a?er 12, 1771, and was ?oceed?d by h"« ? J? '.?othEarl. who as well a. his father represented ??"?? ? Parliament before th?c accession to the in Parliament before theit accession t W*1??* He died April 26, 1714, and 7" succeeded ft" te.t?Earl by his son John, who married first Sarah Ann?cs •ily?, J^,ter and heiress of Robert Child, Esq., of Osterley £ at dd!esex> the celebrated banker and his oldesi S?by her. Lady Sarah Sophia, by the will of her 8fandf u, Child inherited his large fortune, wMch by her %ar ,age to George Vmiera. afterwards E?rl of Jersey, she ?bttothat family. The EaM of Westmoreland, her Uthn :/1ied December t, 1841, and was succeeded as e)"?' E"1 by hia Bon John, a distinguished officer dunng the p! Uoh w??dweU known afterwards as Ambaseodor te BS BH a5id fienna.andstiU better f8 ? amatoue com PoseL 04 Patron of music. He died October 16, ?ISM. and Wa???d by his son Francis WHUam Henry, twelfth & S? Bar! of Westmoreland. The Fanes ha? for ?e tip, e lepil supporters of the Tory or Conservative Interest, t.tb?lle not been prominent in do?t!e POlities. '\t We must now turn to the oth?r branch of the Fanes, or ?V.n "??seended from John Fane, younger brother of the lure0r of the WestmMeIand family. John Fane had re- ce i. ved, as we have seen, some lands at Hotynde? Kent, lan? father, and by the will of his elder brother Henry ?"S in Great Peckham. He carded ?aa, daughter X? d Conelrea8 of Edward Hante, Esq., by whom he had three to lal, Henry, Richard, and Thomas (of Winchelsea). jj nr7 succeeded by virtue of the entail made by his uncle S?'y to the manor of Had!ow. after the execution of it 'lPh Vane, and he seems to have also obtained the rest unfortunate kinsman's property at Shipborne and ?.ewh?M. He engaged, like his relative of the westmore- 144b branch, in Wyat's insurreoiion, like him was sent to "?' Tower, and also pardoned by the Queen. The whole ?ily indeed were among the early and the most zealous r^testants. In the two first Parliaments of Elisabeth he ??Ra returned for Winchester, and became a leading member >;the House of Commons. He died June 11, 1581, leaving ??.oa and heir, Henry, of the age of twenty years. He 8I!» L- ?e camp at Tilbury on the occasion of the 8thb."?? invasion in, 1588, the county of Kent contributing *to ?? horse and 5,000 foot, a larger force than any ?'Oh'?? y except Middlesex. He had afterwards a command i'o 4 t e forces sent to France to the assistance of Henry of ^a» re» and died at Rouen, October 14, 1?96. Hia will O,td thai ?  father show that they were strongly imbued *'th h religious tone of the more earnest Protestants of that« ? appears by the inquisition taken after his *Wh l th*± he possessed besides the manors already enume?. *4 t jJ08e ? Goodins alias Fromonda, Crowbe?y alias Vr0w6rry» ?"? Camiston alias Cawstons. all in Kent, Which jescended to his eldest son and heir Henry, then of the J\e f ? seven. This Henry Fane, born in 15?, resumed th GOld form of the family name-Vane. He ?as knighted .,j,m in 1611, and afterwards traveled for three ?M< °' ""?'ered everal foreign !engua?ea. On his '•turn t England he was selected W the Parliament of 1614 'or carl? and from this time for many years was very in- 5,Qential l• n the counsels of J<?es and Charles. The former "?R an °'°? him soon after his entrance into Parliament coeer rer to the Prince, and the latter retained him on his ?ss—° '°" throne, and made him one of his Privy °°ncil ^the throne, and made him one of his Privy Ð.,nd 1625 He ? for Carlisle in the Parliaments of 1620  6and "? every succeeding Parliament during his ifei 'Or Thetford in Norfolk, the county of Kent, and (in »40 U. ?'?'°ent) for Wilton in Wiltshire. He was ?'"ent  diplomatist, but in other respects a mere self- *?iot )aborious man of business, without the slightest J^eMion ? f °haracter. But he was an ambitious man, and he a ,ee M%  have desired to emulate the kindred Westmore- "? braT v, by founding in his own family a peerage. The ??t est?.e? oftheNentlesEarlsofWestmoreland in the "th w "ortb ?.???heeQ forfeited for their rebellion in the of pr rbet*. were at this time in the hands of the tltza ()0on, to whom they had been granted by the to 413 rustees for the purpose of sale; and probably it ?".8th? °' the Fanes having obtained by marriage some 14 tee is estates of the Abergavenny branch of the e" i 1"8 at led Sir Henry Vane to Hadlow to turn his •Went to ?? NevHte estates in the bishopric of Durham. ?cco "?gly he purchased during the reigns of James 1. the treat lot s ip and manor of Raby Castle in that county, lih a  6eems to have continued his purchases over several y?. ?'inl825 becoming the purchoser of the honour of D.4rillrd Castle in the same county, and acquiring altogether 4 large estate in that district, of which he made Raby Stle the chief seat. He also purchased about the year Is^o ??thcr state in Kent, viz., the mansion of Fairlawn the lands belonging to it in Wrotham, & a subsoquent ?eri? he dispesed of the lamily estate of Hadlow, & Fairlawn ?60. ?s the centre of the Kentish estate of the Vanes, in- t?a? te manors of Shipborne, &c. In 1631 Sir Henry ? ?<s a.??'"?? Ambassador Extraordinary to Denmark, and a ^ar capacity to confirm a peace and alliance with ?Ueta j? Adolphus of Sweden, and concluded both missions '?cp?""?y. He returned home in 1632, and the next year fcave 44 ,e ?°cely entertainment at Raby Castle to King ?ar)p then on his way to Scotland to be crowned. He ?Rain ???rtained him at the same plaoe in 1639 in the ex- Ped?; a ainat the Scots, iu which Sir Henry also held the to?'? of a regiment. In this year he was made Comp> tr°He ^e Household, and year he was made Comp ? ?ler?f the Household, and some months afterwards Pritic,'?lSeeretaryofStato. He experienced in this last 5Ce opposition from Wentworth, who managed greatest opposition from Wentworth, who managed delay the appointment for some months. But the Qiiee 8 influence secured it at last for Vane, who received 1 4 fuert er affront from Wentworth in the January following Nu fh7Jatter oa being created Earl of Strafford chose also ? ? '?tiqnal barony that of Raby of Raby, Durham, a "tie ??Sir Henry VaQe had doubtless anticipated for  ?? ^'Irj to grow cooler in those courtier-like feelI'13 aich he had been hitherto actuated, and during ein arliamert he gradaally allowed his eldest son ry to n arr^ °*?? to the popular party, to whom his t e rle ce business habits n.ade him a welcome recruit, die ?*? ? ? '? close of the year 1641 marked his displeasure I, 'till -? him from the office of Secretary of State which h. '?'? ? "?aUy held, and giving it to the Viscount Falk- 1?. -???s?tintheLong Parliament following in the ?-?"of son, but being otherwise a nonentity. On tv)/r ^Daber i1 ??' the Parliament in its propositions for t to r'vote0 reco mend to the King the creation of Sir etaieerony. He was among the members who twitted t?h'' seats in the House after Pride's Purge and h" '?ab t e e,t Is eat of the Commonwealth, sitting on com- itteee Ita in no leading part in the public affairs. e i e 4t his seat of Raby Castle in the latter part of the £ l654 w f vd married Frances, daughter of Thos.Darcy, eq Of 0 'hunt-Darcy in Essex, and had by her three '0" "bl? gre,, to maturity, the eldest of them being the fa °Ua Sir Henry or Harry Vane. The second son, Q,O0r, g,k" kui ghted at Whitehall, November 22, 1640, !ad hisc eat*at Long-N-ewton in Durham. He espoused the ut°yaliHf n1 eln the Civil War, and in July, 1645, sur- bthH i'y ?abv ???? ? held in his father's name for ^aim^ • whioh was held in his father's name for t4, 1, 'Ltlia r" erit, He obtained the estate of Rogerley in -,Ud' ,ith 1,1. ?'?' daughter of Sir Lionel Maddison, Ms led in 1679. We find his name, as well as those of hi, t ather a,ad brother ?i'l sometimes spelt Fane" His ???°°n  R?-Henry Vane, Prebendary of Dur- ere 'ttgtAlads013, the ReIv Hilel nry Vane, Prebendary of Dar. created a bar?net in 1785, and married Frances, er of j ° Tempest, and sister and at length heiress te,eestof Winyard and Old Durham, and their ??t)'?? .Sh-M eory Vane, Baronet, on succeeding to his *<ldi»?al Uact.' assumed the name of Tempest in ?- ? to t  ? ? Vane. In 1807 he was elected member ?J ? coun, at of Vane In 1807 he was elected member *8ai co t ? °« Durham in the independent interest a Do» coalition, and in 1812 re-elected without tion, u by  A He ? '? 1813, having married Anne, Ca»ue88of Am 'Jim and Baroness Duulu in her own right ? "h ora he had an only daughter Emily Frances Anne: ?. becatne t ad an Qly daughter, Emily Frances Anne, came ti. 8?°°nd wife of Charles William Stewart, *fU. atds \rQ °f Londonderry. This lady still sur- V» a°d is |,Pre8ent possessor of the great Vane-Temp- t%t rOPpL-rty I)urbarn. Her eldest son, George Henry ^h»«eaS obe??"??- Rs'' ?sst son. George Henry loh '?ies bert '?s' ? the present Earl Vane and Viscount ^er [J Durham, in which titles he succeeded ?i&"r??. r?' ??? been created to them 1823 with li-ita- tion t'he ns of his second marriage) in 1854. The ?din»l» „ e, ?ne.Tempest property have rendered it ?th?QeI. "? '?'?' and the political influence of the ?t? mH-"°?ty, now exerted, as is that of the Fanes, I ee 0118?lvative interest, is very considerable, and more *cti» than ;n fu °? of the kindred family. We now t?'" ? the ?p arhamentary chief.—?c<a<of. thr l{ehLE8IASTICAL ASSUMPTIONS.  P?' forth a manifesto against what he calls *li« ^Uiant of his opponents. He asserts that we are 411 ft 00' "4 a public sense, to maintain that it would be well to 0??' ? public sense, to maintain that it would be weil "t Our contr to have an institution known by the name ,if the eta ]is ed Church with no rule of faith," &c. &c. But w 4p Olds, al so the freedom of all "to entertain the contra- ky vle ??? it is better to have a real Church," &c.; and hil 0 e asks for fair play for this opinion as well as for t4t ot er,1. a protests against the attempt to stifle it. thi,4 emav ask, wno has made any such attempt, or ? ? of making it? But the whole question is one of tktt We are not concerned at present to determine ? ??tb ?? t would be better to have a Church with dogma, a* °Ue ?hout dogma; we have simply to ascertain what, g a *8 existing constitution of the Church of i??at}*? ? Judicial Committee have disclaimed all ? °f th i'°* '? con8titution they do but deolare what it M?? ba?°?o aU along. Mr Keble and bis adherents may, °0,lrse jfcC' to that constitution, and-they are free to "?l?w? means to bring about a change. Englishmen ?? ?ee 0 P??er a republican form of government to a to<?chv and they may even throw the weight of their ''b"'?c<!? favour of the former, but they are not free to btdtak ?? as though the English constitution were *^eIvh ^lic&n Wh ell >t i8 not. Mr Keble thinks that he may ? ? "J n?? not. Mr Kebla tbins that be may QIUI. ttl it, 4'atter ecclesiastical a freedom which would not 4c corded tto o ?"" in matters po litical. He takes for ttallte thaf ?e Church of England is dogmatic in bis t?ofth? term, when the highest tribunal asserts that it of ?ot. I ??.?b). repeats the assumption that certain words, '? '? Dbur?p ???y gave a list, have a known theological bur»i r?' murder, libel, &c., have a known civil or le 11 Fil ee* Here, again, the Judicial Committtee have 44i t at thi.? ??' '?ain, the Judicial Committtee have tbe g.l'nd lheological sedse is not known to the Church Tb??iti? ?h it may be to the Greek or Roman or 1I.8t¡ ere is  Arches. k °wever, a certain moderation in Mr Keb)e s Ho i ^tfti^Ption. fktopared with those of Dr Pusey, who obst!- ?t.???iata'? the Church of England expressly asserts ??et.e-P8ne88 of future punishment, because the ?b'?eri?.?g' occurs in the Athanasian Creed. He 46 be lorne very zealotis for the purity of the English lan- t4a, Re, Eirld i. s ???ious that words should not be taken to r4ekti e, ]a Ythinir but "?? they do mean. He thinks that he °«t abnn^lu he ?ord etern?," and sees in it what ??t, (? o?' ? to discover,bile he chooses to for- .u 688 the Judicial Committee is sure to ^(6eer> ttiehvat\thk e Athanasian Creed in the Book of Com- t4oll n rayer • °ly a translation, that the word everlast- I1bg *I- th ever Y other word in it' must be subjected to the °f thn Ct'tical L? erPfetation, and that we are thus thrown ck 1, 0,1 he ?ntro*ersy respecting the various meanings of the ^reek t royersy respeoting the varioul meaDlns '?trf ?8fyee?k ?""of which it is a translation. On this !°1trrJv iet8y bad JudicIal Committee affirmed that the Church »'iin Bland P??ounced no judgment. It must, there- jote ^^ain ?an ?? question. Dr Pusey and Mr Keble ??e 6 ft f'8ht to o?»pre88 their conviction; let them be tolerant °f thn iOn- Of those who differ from them. The great questions now stirring the Church are essen- tially questions of mutual forbearance, and as such are being fitly discussed in a spirit of impartial charity by our correspondent Presbyter Artglioanus, who finds no man in the Church qualified to stone his heighboutr, and with the tenor of whose letters we ate in complete accord.-Ex- q,mimr. I I I. THE CUCKOO C0NTRdvrÜtsy; I I During the temporary absence of the cuckoo we may discuss ?ith ?le more delicacy the question concerning her rather eccentric habits, which has just been revived by Mr Rowell, of the Oxford Museum. In an appendix to the second edi- tion of his very ingenious essay on The Beneficient Distribution of the Senee of Pain," he has published a paper read four years ago befote the Ashtfloleati Society on the habits of this bird,tbe Ouioote of which Was to use the cuckoo in refutation of the great theory of Mr Darwin con- oetiiing the natural & cumulative growth of those provident anltiJAl instincts by which the species of animals are pre- served against danger and rendered more fruitful. Mr Darwin's great thoory as everybody knows, asserts that the fixity of the more remarkable animal ia net only the cause but also the result of the aafefcy they ensure. He holds that when a variation takes place in the habits of an animal, we need not say as Mr Rowell does from accidental causes, for the most strenuous Darwinite may fairly interpret the Darwinian theory as giving the mere mode of God s provi- dence,-but whether accidentally or designed, still favour- able to the growth or preservation of the race, then the individuals amongst its offspring which reproduce that habit will be leas subject to dangers and death or else more fruitful of offspring than those which do not,-and that thus the latter will increase less rapidly or perish more rapidly than the former, till the preservative addition" thus made to the habit of the creature is at last fixed in the whole species. Thus Mr Darwin thinks that the wild bees, of which there is still a trace, which made round cells instead of hexagonal cells, lost so much space and food that when an approximation to hexagonal cells was once intro- duced from any cause (commonly called accidental), the oees making it would train so great an advantage over the moie birbarous species, that they wpuld perish more s?owty.or perhaps multiply faster, till in time the whole body of sur- vivors would have acquired the hereditary habit of hexa- gonal building. And in the same way be accounts for mo*t iaetincts as a growth, by inaniteaimal additions accuml by hereditary transmission, of slight (1?-! -?-U favourable to the pre!ervatio,, ?ll liabit deviations in the .r fI. speclee,-all the Ihght ?'? -T?'? ? ? dirol?tion being of conr.e Sèon ex- t1!tlsed  me;e fact that ??. g?p?? ?6 creatures wbiel? )(aU mt& them to a mgte r&p?d destruction. I Now against this theory of the gradual accretion, by in- finitesimal Aepfe, of shades of habit favourable to the preser- vation of a race, until you get at last a fixed, well-developed, tpeciuc instinct, Mr Rowell calls the cuckoo as a witness. The cuckoo, as every one knows, objects to nursing on her own account and gets other birds to hatch and feed her young for her. She lays her eggs at intervals of two or three days, and has the power of retaining her eggs for a short time after it is ready to be laid till she can choose her foundling hospital, which she generally does in the nest of a hedge-sparrow, a yellowhammer, a wagtail, or a meadow titlark. Mr Darwin suggests as his account of the growth of this instinct that the progenitor of our cuckoo having already, like a few other birds—Mr Rowell mentions three, hawks, hen harriers, and owls-the habit of laying eggs at intervals of two or three days, and being at that time still domestic and hatching her own young in her own nest, may have had young which were not vigorous nor well fed owing to the inconvenient difference in age between the young nestlings. He supposes that, having on some occasions used the nest of a neighbour in preference, the cuckoos so produced benefited so much by the care of their foster parents, and were so much hardier than the victims of home education, that these offspring lived and throve while the others died, that some of them transmitted the habit to their progeny, which were in like manner the stronger and healthier for it, till at last all the surviving cuckoos had inherited 8 fixed instinct of dropping their eggs in other birds' nests, and the domestic breed disappeared alto- gether. To this Mr Rowell replied that the account might be satisfactory if the only thing to be accounted for were the habit of intruding the egg on other nests, which it is not. In this we think he concedes too much. for the curious point is why the cuckoo should profit by being hatched amongt foster brothers also of unequal age, and though of smaller size yet attended on by parents of smaller size yet attended on by parents smaller size, more than by the usual education. Mr Darwin will say,—because directly he is born he ejects these embryo foster brothers, and remai. ns alone in the nest and takes up all the attention of his foster parents. That is true, but it is a new instinct to account for, and it does not seem clear why the same thing might not just as well happen in the cuckoo's own nest, where that practice would conduoe equally to the selfish wants of the young monopolist. Moreover Mr Rowell enumerates the points for which any such theory of Mr Darwin's fails to account, and shows that they bang together in a kind of system. First an essential condition of the cuckoo's success in these ecoentric proceed- ings is the very small size of her egg in proportion to the size of the bird. This alone it is which enables her to im- pose it on the simple little wagtails, sparrows, and titlarks. The egg is only the size of the skylark's,—a bird not more than a fourth of the size of cuckoos and it is five times as small as that of the snipe, which is about as big as the cuckoo. Mr Rowell justly observes that this smallness of the egg is the more remarkable on account of the long inter- val of two or three days between the laying of each egg. Disproportionately small eggs with long intervals between them are essential conditions of success to the cuckoo's proceedings; and both these conditions, prima facie unlikely to be combined as they are, are found. Again, the very short time which a ouokoo's egg requires for hatohing is one of the conditions of success. The egg, small as it is, is hid among yet smaller eggs, and notwithstanding it is usually the first hatched in the nest, says Mr Rowell, if not invariably. The reason why this is essential to the whole plan of operations appears to be that it makes it easier for the young cuckoo to pitch his embryo foster brethren out. If they were hatched much before him, so as to be at all well grown, this would be a more difficult feat, as well as cause a quantity of unnecessary pain by starving them to death after they had got some hold on life. Here, again, is the young cuckoo's instinctive habit of thus expelling its rivals to be accounted for; for it begins clearing the nest almost as soon as it is hatched. Also it has a special physi- cal adaptation for this purpose There is no apparent cause for its operating at such an early period in the crea- ture's life, as at that time the nest affords ample room for all its occupants; and in fact the instinct ceases after a few days, diminishing as the bird increases in size, till it is lost altogether by the time the young cuckoo fills the nest. But this singular instinct is not the only point for consideration, as with it we find an equally singular development of form, which enables the young cuckoo to effeot the purpose of its instinct as when first hatohed it is much broader in the back than other birds of its size; it has also a very peculiar hollow in the back, from the shoulders to the rump, and when, by wringling itself beneath, iL gets either a young bird or egg into this hollow of the back, it is thrown out of the nest by a sort of jerk. This singular form can only be considered as a special provision, as the young cuckoo could not effect its purpose of clearing the nest of its foster brethren, if it were of the general form of the other young birds. The hollow of back gradually becomes .less as the instinct decreases, and the back of the young cuckoo becomes like that of other young birds by the time that the instinct is lost." Finally the cuckoo being without parents of its own is as a compensation, says Mr Rowell, an exceed- ingly courageous, alarming, and ferocious bird in manners when young, though it becomes a shy and very timid one later on in life. And this he regards as fitting-in to the whole plan of its motherless youth. Mr Darwin then, as we understand Mr Rowell's argu- ment, ought to aooount, by this theory of the physical advantages gained by individual peculariti.es accumulating gradually into a single species, for five or six separate char- aateristics all of which so link into each other as to be of little use if they did not exist simultaneously. It would be to no purpose that that the cuckoo should have an unusually small egg, if there were not an interval of some length between each for her to find a fresh nest into which to intrude it. Even this would be of no use if the time of hatching were not so short that the cuckoo gets the start of its rivals nor would this do, had it not in its first days of life a shovel-shaped back and a shovelling instinct for get- ting rid of its rivals which, however, only last for some ten or twelve days at most. Small-egged cuckoos might sup- plant largo-egged cuckoos, if they were healthier but they would be healthier only, says Mr Darwin, because nursed out; so that the small-egged cuckoos must have taken, on the strength of the smallness of their eggs, to dropping them elsewhere, before any advantage of race could accrue. Not only so, but even of those thus nursed out none could I have an advantage till one was born with a temporary shovel-back, to whom it occurred to use that back for shovelling out the other eggs or nestlings ;—then first would it have a real advantage in health over home-nursed cuckoos to transmit its descendants. Here is a systemmatic chain of circumstances of which each link supposes the rest, and none of which would have improved the cuckoo raoe, or given it any advantage in the confliot of existence unless the rest had been contemporary with it,—so that the cumu- lative principle of infinitesimal 11 preservative additions" Icaroely applies. i We confess we think this, so far as it goes, though a minute a very effective case against the Darwinian theory which requires the gradual hereditary growth of adaptations, and rejects a matured, complex plan of instinct as incoosis- tent with the economy of scientific hypothesis. On the other hand, we do not think Mr Rowell gains much in theory by showing that the final cause for the cuckoo's instinct seems to be the supply of sufficient food for her young." He thir ks the cuckoos could not be brought up at home, because as they have no strong bill, like the wood- pecker, wherewith to tear down the bark of trees, or power- ful fegs and claws, to enable them to search in the ground for food, they seem to be no more able to collect food than such birds as are generally seleoted for foster parents and as these small birds have so much difficulty in supplying one young cuckoo it seems impossible for a pair of cuckoos to feed a whole brood the necessity for foster parents is there- fore apparent." This may be so, but it only puts us back to the other question,—why, then, had not cuckoos strong bills and powerful legs and claws to supply their young with ? Or why do not the cuckoos at least rear one or two young ones themselves and look out for foster parents only for the remainder ? Why aro we to assume as needing no expla- nation such a curious premiss as the necessity of providing for a race of birds not strong enough to supply their own young with food, and yet be quite satisfied when we have explained all the other instincts of the cuckoo as results following from that premiss ? Mr Darwin might well turn round and say, If I have failed to explain the gradual growth of the instinct by my theory, you at least have not attempted at aU the harder part of you theory, the reason for a creative design apparently so incomplete, and so much in need of piecing out by unnatural instincts, as a race of birds incompetent to find enough for food for their own young This will probably always be the difficulty of the Paleyan school. It may often make clear its case for a design behind nature, but it is by no means easy to make out a purpose for the design. For our own parts, we should hold with Emerson's theory, originally, we believe, Plato's that" those things which swim, fly, creep, are so many shortcomings of j 1 L man,-that is, they fail short of being men at this or that degree, and so represent some as yet uncontrolled animalism of human nature." In this sense there is ere d ive design of which even man C&u discern something in tho eocentrici- t^ of the cuckoo, as there is also in the dull industry of the b?r?tS ? bee, the tortuous malignity of the snake, the cruel ?cy of the cat towards its prey, or the servile institu- S Uona "peculiar" to the ant. No doubt the .n.m.l world  reallv intended to hold a mirror up fo the anunal elements in  is a mo,t expressive image of the transformation of the same selfish instinct between parent and offspring,-the unscrupulous .mty „*hhich i"n>dfuucccos, the mother to abandon her eggs being clea?,y moratly iden- tical with that which induces the orphan <^0 foster brethren In order that it may have all the e:1ce, fcod, I and attentioa to itself. Children thrown on tQe?ir o_wnre ?uroea by the indolence of their parents wi.l{l always, the cuckoo says, be I fast' and pushing to a very aggressive degree. And it is instructive to see that the cuckoo mother always imposes its egg on small birds with eggs just a little smaller than its own, in the hope of overawing them, in which it generally succeeds. It is a bad instance of the success Of effrontefy in both mother and child. Mr Rowell tplla na that the little cuckoo when once it has expelled its rivals is so clamorous for fool as often to overwork its foster parents and bring other birds to their assistance In the gardens of Worcester College sueh an intruder had been observed with another pair of birds helping its foster parents in waiting anxiously upon it and trying in vain to stop its clamorous mouth. A more impressive illustration of olaims successfully established on a wrong, by brazen audacity, can scarcely be found in the whole range of animal life. if these curiously allied instincts, of intrusion in the parent and exclusiveness and exigeance in the child, be not set up purposely to mirror certain inveterate tendencies of human nature,-who shall find us a better reason for them ? Mr Darwin's theory, whether true or false, tends to rob the habits and instincts of animals of their moral colouring and picturesqueness but the mere Paleyan adaptation- principle will never confute it,-for, if it sometimes explains better the curious working of the mechanism, it never offers any reason for the curions defects and limitations in the conception of the machine.- Spectator. I THErooDOFTaEENGLr;ai4wwi,Bi .THE FOOD OF TaE EN_Cl L.\BOt.HtËils Aoubi. or effect to doubfe whether put civilisation is real, have recent received a great addition of strength. ?e? More painful documents have ever been presented to Parliament than Dr E. Smith s report On the food of the poorer labouring classes isng- land." The true objects of the elaborate system which we call civilisation may not yet be decided, and philosophers may differ as to the signs which prove that a country is advancing,—but one axiom is universally granted. It is good that every man in the country who works hard should have enough to eat. If he is a little beyond that point,— obtains as much as he likes of the food he likes, as well as a sufficiency for health,-so much the better, but enough is allowed to be indispensable. The agricultural labourer in this country and the poorer orders of artisans would appear, from Dr Smith's report, not to have reached even that minimum point. His inquiry was made with studied fair- ness,—which, indeed, an apparent wish to elicit evidence of comfort which excited some comment at the conference held in Bath. It was spread over many hundred families, care- fully selected as specimen families, with a rigorous exclu- sion of all but those who appeared to be naturally healthy and strong. Had sickly families been included, the result would have been much worse, but, even under this rule, the evidence is most melancholy. Taking a fixed quantity of carbon and nitrogen,—28,000 grains of the former and 1,330 of the latter,—as indispensable to sound health, he found that silk weavers, needlewomen, kid glovers, shoe- makers, and stocking weavers had as a rule too little, the diet, in the case of the neediewomen, --all healthy cases, remember,—falling short by nearly one-fourth. The average nutriment of these occupations was less by 400 grains, or, in round numbers, three-fourths per cent., than that of unemployed Lancashire operatives during the cotton famine. In other words, the permanent condition of these classes, as respects food, is worse than the exceptional condition which stirred all England up to compassion, a terrible blot on our social system, the work in all these cases being very pro- traoted, covering more hours in each twenty-four than medi- cal men of sound judgment hold to be beneficial. With regard to the agricultural labourer, the case is on the whole worse. Taking still as the standard the bare amount of nourishment, held to be sufficient for a Lanca- shire operative out of work, Dr Smith found that while the total average was good, was even very hinh, there was deficient carbon in many counties to the following extent per cent, of the labourers Devon 35, Somerset 43 Dorset 21, Wilts 48, Derby 22, Stafford 22, Northampton 20' Norfolk 28, Oxford 27, Berks 80, Herts 26, Beds 33, Rut- land 25, and Yorkshire 16 per cent. while the per centage of those who lack nitrogen rises to dreadful figures: t, Cornwall 57, Devon 41, Somerset 56, Dorset 26, Wilts 53 Worcester 28, Notts 28, Leicester 22, Cheshire 60, Derby 33, Durham 50, Stafford 44, Warwickshire 25, Northampton 40, Norfolk 57, Essex 33, Sussex 22, Hants 66, Oxford 72, Berks 80, Bucks 42, Herts 53, Cambridgeshire 21, Beds 33 Rutland 62, and Yorkshire 29 per cent." To take the result out of its scientific form, more than half the popula- tion of Hants, Cornwall, Somerset, Cheshire, Oxford, Berks, Herts, Rutland, Wilts, and Norfolk have less to eat than they ought to have to maintain health and vitality. As to the amount they would eat if they could get it, the figures bear no proportion whatever, labourers, for example, fed in the house of a large Yorkshire farmer, eating three times the weekly average fixed as the minimum of health, while in Somersetshire the supply drops down in individval cases to a figure at which speedy injury must ensue. It is need- less to say how terribly this diet predisposes the sufferers to disease, how enormous is the waste of national power in the difference' between the work the man could and the work he does do; but we must quote one result stated by Dr Simon, medical officer to the Privy Council, and, lest we should be suspected of exaggeration, we give the statement in his own words. There is no doubt that the di(Roulty of procuring food is one main cause, perhaps the main cause of the practice of infanticide. Dr Hunter has submitted to Dr Simon the names of sixty-seven medical witnesses who ? ?. I 1 ?, 1 I I agree 10 me trucn or me rouowing snocKing account of infanticide in the marsh-land: This is not the worst. So-and-so has another baby you'll see it won't live," is the neighbourly view which Dr Hunter finds to be taken of the predictability of certain events among these demora- lized populations. And the predicted event soon comes,- perhaps through the normal operation of the diet which Dr Hunter describes,—perhaps through the almost incredi- ble cruelty of deliberate starvation,—perhaps through an intentional or unintentional over-dose of the opium which is universally employed. A medical man is called to the wasted infant, because there is so much bother with regis- tering.' The mother says the child is dying, and won't touch food. When he offers food, the child is ravenous, and fit to tear the spoon to pieces.' On some of the few occa- sions on which the surgeon in his disgust has insisted on opening the body, the stomach and bowels have been found quite empty. It was in many plaoes reported that the infant's life had been saved in the midst of one of these wastings by the threats of a determined surgeon or neigh- bour. Where the coroners have been induced to support these attempts to save life where inquiry have been made and severe admonition, with an appearance of a chance of committal; also, where the registrar has pretended to refuse registration without medical certificate in families notorious for the loss of infants,—in these cases an amendment has taken place. It was more than once related, that women who had lost two or three successive children lost no more after it had been plainly signified to them that their pro- ceedings were watched. Bad as is the starvation of infants, another practice is more common and more lethal: this is the drugging with opium Cases of death from opium poisoning are supposed to be common; occasionally they are the subject of inquest; sometimes they are recorded cases of I overlying;' but the medical practitioners are of opinion that by far the most common end of such cases is the simple registration and burial as cases of debility from birth, no medical attendant, premature birth,' and such like ;-the public opinion of the neighbours seldom going beyond a sneer or sarcasm on the occurrence of a quarrel months or years after. So perfectly did the main body of medical practitioners agree in the opinion that ablactation and narcotism' would be the true description of the cause of death of more than half the infants recorded, that a list of their names seems to be all that is necessary to be added And Dr Hunter adds the list of 67 medical witnesses from whom the information was derived. There is no heed of writing to increase the force of state- ments like these, of these grave official figures compiled by men whose interest, if they had any except in eliciting the truth, is to make prosperity appear as general as they can. But we may ask whether it is wonderful that people so fed should feet little horror of the prison, where they have been till lately crammed, or that the story of three meals of meat a day to be had in America should sound in their ears like a promise of Paradise, or that education should produce such a distaste for the labour which yields only such rewards or that the national action should be constantly impeded by a dread of the consequences of any serious increase in the price of food ? Dr Smith's report was discussed at the meeting of the Bristol Association, but the debate elicited little, except th grave confliot of opinion existing as to the easiest remedy Physiologists, according to the speeches there made a6 not yet agreed on the primary principles to be obeyed -are not certain whether alcohol is food or not,—whether the gross wash which labourers drink under the name of tea is of any use except as a stimulant, whether even you can or cannot overfeed a population. The only point on whic)? opinion was pretty clear was that oaten-cake was th healthiest of all diet, but then as oatmeal is dearer tha: wheat flour, expends fire in cooking, wants a relish } it d is hated by the people, that unanimity does not afford' an h help The value of milk was highly VtiS.ud dear, and in, places unprocurable, the farmers giv———? tl the pigs, while meat is rapidly passing out n/f tu m g people much higher than labourers. Something -? b done by teaching the people to cook better, buf w? f exception there appears to be, short of a rioa i '!);863'^0 practical remedy for a state of affairs thocr?oEu???°'??? able to our country and our boasted Civilisa!ïonscr1';at in a country choked with rich men, in a time of prosperity, and under a free trade regime there ?? "iT? counties in which one-half the population have "??M?a<- food, is a fact which may make a philan? almost despair. The only real remedy is an increase <>?WageS be repaid by higher cultivation, the use of ? i?' ? the increase of power to be obtained from teerhn machine when you give him enough of oil Thnf p°i•'nt' the actual loss to the employer from insuScienr food P d to be studied more closely. It is well kt ow  age agricultural labourer cannot do a ngT,?. idn( that he can be fed up to do it, and a rem?J?, -?' the use of food as a motor occurred recent?\ ???' ?? Hindoo labourers employed on one of the r « which carry the rails down the Western gh?u? ffo^uunud d ??1 they could not do the work required I??   tion of quantity, they could not do it ail. ?l'??.. ?t??. i Hindoos, with the nature of food, they came to the conclu- IIO that meat was necessary, that being necess?v it was advisable to introduce a new caste rule, and allow the eating of beef while employed upon hard work The rule was passed, and the men found themselves a once compe- tent to the labour required. There is a margin yet between what a labourer does and what he can be enabled to do, which will allow of a considerable increase in his weekly quantum of food. -Ecoiiomist. MH DISRAELI'S NEW LINE. J 1,1 V NEW LINE, I We are sincere1y sorry that Mr Disrae h'. ??'a peeà te ,h hs not been ?u(Iregsful. We wae not witbout hop, a that heit« takin a n w departtire, which vt,)uld put him on a bett. er coun^.n politics. We without upon a diversion, in the military sense of the word, Which W-)U'd relieve one tield of a good deal of very unprofitable Z*o"rf dy TStr'-iffe, n and o..c™^pP> y Ban other, if not to more aavntage, at least ^»re hLrmi6asly. kVe are di^ sapp,iinted. N Q shrew o a grandmother could be m ore re,entlli\ of pickle>g | obliging overture £ suel, e-g. than theie Bucks <7cntlemen have been irlip?iti,?nt of Mr DUraeli's kind endtS TtaXt th.™ i». '»*!< nately he set about the ma'ter in the wrong mood, His h V th?S °r di i,,iVoiiuS s tkhe? y. Hi views were rose colour. K Sue.  ogrisjlmral kind. Falstaff n n 't- to talk to him like a death's head, butth? U eexxaScttlly v the sor? of talk acceptable to farmers. A certain weight ?w??ttot?? ?? ,„ ? t.Me the speech. The pre- ,isex?ttythe3r?t t of desponden promising, an 1 clouds must hing over sweeu.?t ?nust ? true type, indeed, of the agricultural mind i-. ,rmaai,iaire, who must never be told that he is ?eU but always condolcd with for his wretched ?.te and Butterings. of Mr  that That was a gneVOUS Hl\hscretlOn of Mr Dlsraeli that maj or proposition. that a good h Hve,st is a good thing, foUwsd by the illoi, t^ te present i.s a good harvest. A good harvest i?s ?i?whea k is not too common, when it is confi one's own crops and a few others. when it ,s cou?ed_ ? ? general it involves larger cost for getting in the abundance, and low prices for remune- ra0Q' ??°°' whuat asaaVy s Mr Disraeli about prices, with that frank- ness which characterises ? his speeches character of Farmers' Guide ? i dmit that j cannot ?ure you  I honestly admit that I cannot secure you hi?p?'He that. Ail powerful aa he is, he cannot rule prices, admHting that he can- be Iim.. ahgo mce ?A? d????'? h??uy admitting that he can- CUrefmn fair w inds. Mr Disraeli's modesties are, ?mde?ed, ??'?tou?nd? J ? Sedsowns pretentious which no other human being has the presumption to entertain. And h(Tdenies the soft impeachment of having knocked down corn two a _u",w.6" a quarter bY 1)11 !Q\I\T"'Ir." p 1 (}ód ha\'est. Mark. J.,ane trùlDbeO £\t, hu; t \0:<1, Ht àpeat;lnt. \yltI1,äU. hontYi t\iJ he cl- to dÔ, .11 blt) hl:1"¡: ty? he aik? cred; for having ?aved rol n a fait of rour t !!n,sby his I eUing it down gently to a fall of only two. He has gently eased it down. ???n?r?r?ore him to ?rove \nd't h]tj°Tor l! Id I t k long short fleeces. For .??.M. make 'long short fleeces For t hl ?l? ? ineceisa ?y 'or J m bring his wits into that t^itUtS^c; ai?e pp r?erbia?y -aid to be ?one wool Sphering. H? is a second Jason about to bring home a golden fleece, after immense troubles in husbandry, taming of bulls breathing lfame, and sowing of serpents' teeth, from which spring fieroe opponents like Bucks agricul- turists. A hundred years hence the agrest chroniclers of Bucks will say this long wool came of the union of Downs with Cotslfolds, which came of the disunion of the American I republic, through the husbandry of Benjamin Disraeli, gifted with the perception that long effects come of long causes, long wool of long wars and fitting crosses. An! is this to be the end of a great, ambitious career? Is the founder and leader of the gr eat Conservative party to turn breeder of sheep, and to make of them Sl mething more profitable ban he has made of his disconsolate followers. His trust is now in the ewe with a black nose, but could nothing be made of the other black sheep, which have had so many crosses and such little pasture ? In vulgar phrase, Mr Disraeli has, indeed, brought his pigs to a fine market, but let us hope he will do better with his more united sheep. Examiner. ELECTORAL DISTRICTS. I The regulation of the franchise is not the only check op- posed by the policy of the master builders who superinten- ded the earlier foundations of our well-balanced Constitution to the wild impulses of the democracy. Another barrier, created by their foresight and discretion, was the institution of a considerable variety in the constituencies intrusted with the privilege of electing a representative in Parliament. This system is not to be entirely attributed to direct purpose and design, for it arose in part out of the existing order of political society. The inhabitants of towns in the Middle Ages, in the times coeval with the commencement of our Parliamentary Constitution, began to realise their power and iufluence, and to claim at the hands of their Sovereigns municipal charters and civil corporate privileges. Among these became speedily to be reckoned the right of nomina- ting some of their own body to consult as to the amount of grants to be paid in taxes to the King. In like manner the landed proprietors, with the bulk of the freeholders, were summoned to send their representatives to uuite in making provision for the Royal necessities, and to deliberate on the highest interests of the kingdom. Thus in early times the principle was elaborated, which has ever since remained as the corner-stone of our political Constitution and the palladium of our personal liberties, that the right of taxation is commensurate only with the right of representation. The Lower House of Parliament combined in itself the representatives of all classes called upon to contribute to the public exigencies and these found their natural division, from the circumstances of the times in the two broad distinctions still recognized and re- tained amongst ourselves—in the knights of the shire, returned by the free-holders of counties; and iu the mem- bers of boroughs, elected by the holders of a munscipal franchise. It is probable that for centuries there was an evident line of dcmarcationbctween the homely burgher" and the aristocratic knight." They were chosen from different ranks of society, and distinguished in the period of sumptuary laws by a different dress, and the one, by habits, sentiment, and worldly circumstances, would be separate from the othor. The great secret, however, of national stability was gained in no single class being allow- ed to become the exclusive depository of political power. This system which has outlived all the crises, fluctuations, and excitement of English history, has been materially promoted by the variety established in what may be called our electoral districts. Previous to the Reform Bill this was more pvidently the case than at present. There was then a 'gr;at; diversity in the franchise itself. In some boroughs the votes were confined to a few houses in others the ousto? of s?t?'? lot was esUbUshe.d and gave the sutfrageto a.ar"e majority of the householders. la the counties fd?e?nce prevailed and the for?-shitting free- holders exercised a ConsUerabie inauence ihe fOSU!t was most salutary The elements of political power were so distributed among the various constituencies that no one class, interest nor condition could propunderata in the State to the detrimtJnt. or subjection of the other. The period of the Reform Bill was the aara of the greatest danger to the long-recognised political equilibrium. It was to be expected that the party who superintended the extinction of old and the creation of new constituencies would endea- vour to se-ure the triumph of their own adherents in the nation, Tile very aboliiion of the previous variety of fran- chises and the limitation ot the votes to household suffrage, eonfirmed moreover, the fears of far-seeing statesmen lest an undue nreoonderance should be established for the borough constituencies. Ttie gieatstraggle was to retain this true SJurce of safety to the nation 1n an impartial and equitable distribuiioa of political power among the different classes of society, and s0 to re.arrange the constituencies that neitherpopular impulses nor anstocratio influences should obtain an exclusive superiority, but that an equal allotment of political privileges should be secured to the lnterests ot land and ot commerce The evils anticipatetl have not been realised to their full extent. The operation of the Chandos clause in the counties the increased energy of the Conservative Land Societies and Associations, the timely advice of Sir R. Peel t0 fight in the Kegistration Courts the battle of the Constitution and the inherent good sense of the people, recovered from a transitory delusion, have tended to restore to some extent that pohtllJ.1 equilibrium which was, for a time at least, in jeopardy. Tne counties and agri- cultural boroughs have been found sufficiently powerful to hold in cueck the enemies of the Constitution. The and variety of the constituencies, still retained in their numbers and in the different extent of their area and of their locality have proved, as iu earlier times, the safety and security of the nation. To disturb this salutary and C„'userfatj,e equilibrium, and to briug the election of every representative under the immediate influence of the multitude h>lve ever been the objects of the demagogue and the revolutionist. for this end attempts are made in two directions—for the extension of the franchise, and for the establishlllent of uui(ormlty in electoral districts. The endeavour to improve our electoral system is a favourite pursuit with empyrical politicians. Lord Brougham in his very discursive speech at York as President of the Social Science Meeting, could not abstain from trying his band on our admirable Constitution, and suggesting the possibility of making the show of bands to have a more direct bearing and influence on the election. He proposed, if we arrived at a ri^ht interpretation of his remarks, that the candidate obtainIng the majority on the show of hands should be entered in the writ by the return- ing officer, unless his opponent succeeded in polling two- thirds of the enrolled constituency. What course, then, would the nob'e Lord recommend for adoption in a cass in which the show of hands at the nomination was declared to be equal ? Such a proposal may answer its purpose in elicitlllg the .audlts of an assembly of working-men, but it is impracticable and surrounded with difficulties. It would rob the honest and industrious artisan who had obtained by steady conduct the possession of the household suffrage, and transfer his political right to thu rough voices of an impulsive crowd,sure,from their own want of training, to be led away by the gilded sophisms of the political adventurer. l\lr, Warner the member for Norwich, pro- poses that the wor lUg men should send to Parliament certain delegates irom their own body, exclusively elected by themselves, to nu extra seats to be allotted to some few of our largest towns. This would be a serious innovation on the theory of our existing system, which considers the representative to be sent to Parliament to consult on the welfare of the nation rather than to be the partisen of a class or the advocate of individual interests. This scheme is not likely to meet with general approbation. The proposals which meet with most favour are those which boldly aim at a totil demolition of our present system and the substitution in its place of electoral districts in which the voices of the multitude shall alone prevail as the eriterion of the popular will. The tyo most notorious of these propositions come recommended respectively by the authority of Mr. Bright and of Mr. Hare. The former would measure out the length and breadth of the land into a number of assimilated electoral compartments, irrespective of any existing local, municipal, or shiral divisions, throwing in town and country, and making up a certain amount, alike in all, of numerical population. The latter is more circumstantial, and would make, if possible, a more complete break-up of our present electoral machinery. He proposes to divide the country into a small and limited number of cycles for the election of members of Parliament. These cycles arc to count their electors by millions, and to send up fifty members. Each elector is only to have one vote, and the first fifty candidates are to be returned according to the plurality of the votes recorded for them. The same objections apply to both these proposals. They would render all the electoral districts the counterpart of each other, secure a Parliament of only one colour and opinion, remove every check and restraint from the wildest ebullition of the popular will, and destroy that equitable distribution of political power in which is found the best guarantee for the continued stability of the State. England must be verF far gone from itsi Jojfl ■of the past I and its ancient Conservatism befor'3 it exchanges its pfe- ?.t w,?.?? C?'tiM'-m for these wild speculations and most uuaUral:tive theories. The of bob :SI l-jnattracti^ T'-lften.p. v, -r any propos1l E hle^ond cha 0 tic cycles, or in a larger number of assîrnilal,ed electoral c( partments, that admirahle variety of coiistitaen.-ies ?h'??'L't'?.? eVHY class, »LneUh religionism, rank, sentiment, ande^,TJ.tJ' c'"S r?-s. ?.° ?p,eseatative in Parliam^c. *,m. I THE MO? !ARIfIr. -A SERIES OF AIUICL8S FOR ?EX ?OF ?B???b?.?—?N?o Ii?v. 1 Perhap, most of our readers who nate fepd our ¡a I'YV articles on the monev market  b(, -en tr'lC! Ç;'ih JflH\. thing anxious, ^en« rea ment, useful in msKins. feoes3a to make, the Bank Uarll;n_ rP,PrvB —when we read that the re-erve "t the Bank is n, it1etim'lble importance,- of En?nd keep a ce. an importance,- when we further read that this Act ought at particular ti?tobe relaxed, and this relaxation is of inestimable importance, too.-?"e seem Sto n,a ? e got beyond the ordinary f^Q,ia n" tuizht us that scop. or mercantile all our deal- we "bould be indepenoetit of ,??,tio?n.-that at! our d-al- trade that ? bankin,som etimes, at niost tim6,-4, the enforcement of an Act of Parliament to keep it "gut,- sometimes, at rarer ti^^qumn^lhe suspension of that Act to keep it right: -hoW this possibly be? After ? ratio to ?Acet ryto el.kbeoerp ?e.pos.U?o???P' ? ? ratio to of business the elaborateness of tbe exp • m he has got t feelVh.t there is .,»« .»* gt?ange, that he has got out of bis usual ele ent, t at.he is in the realm of unnatural complexity, not in the realm OJ IJM\U ,t'J Something strange there is. We expressly recommended the plan of our last number, no»t as what we WOulId d suggest, were w.beginnin to legislate .fresh,-to ???? 'tut as a practical palliative to the?o?t evil of o?P,? legislation. We -dmit-*6 maintain that .be real evil ? f om which we are suffering lies very deep but we feat that it is almost impossible to eradicate it without introducing gregtot evils; and we know that the public mind is not at all alive -that a long history divides us from ? f.l'è ??tM ? Ml* ■ u be "UtopUn and out of reason a nature state-that H W. ?? ?e ?Jt?? and out of reason to recommend a tehntt to  stat. It Ls be??d tb fe Is 'o ttat()'nalons about every undertake ? say t h ere great English institu^tion undei?take to ray there ?e few insthuuonsso?cu,no? ? ?anomalous, so pec?? to this island, so i?p?. ???;?d in our 6rst  that it kept the ^hole büllioD regerTe of this country. We as the Bank of E°gl? .?"%?'??.e iot f required an Act of ?.t it kept the ???? at --1' Parliament to make it keep enough reserve. We explained last week in our third article that in 1847 and in 1897 this Act had to be broken, and suggested a scheme for prevent- ing its being broken in future,-for doing without mis- demeanour what on two occasions has been done by a mis- demeanour. The whole tone and temper of the place is half-mercantile, half-ofecial, -half like a Company living by a  y living by what it makes, half like a Public Department living cn what it receives. The source of this anomaly is monopoly,-not present monopoly in the Bank of England, but past monopoly —an exclusive privilege at the commencement of things, which led it to outstrip all other banks,—become the National Bank par excellence,-to usurp, if we may use that expression, the duty of retaining the bullion reserve. First. The State gave the exclusive privilege of issue—the sole right to issue bank notes in London and in the great district round London—to the Bank of England. In the early times of banking, it may be roughly said that the privilege of issue is the privilege of banking. The habit of keeping deposit accounts establishes itself slowly and with difficulty. The habit of paying fractions of those credits by cheque, increases, on the Continent especially, still more slowly but the habit of taking paper issued by responsible and creditable firms soon establishes itself. It is certain that since 1844 the credit circulation of England has not increased, but declined on the other hand, it is certain that the deposit business has augmented enormously. A distinguished banker in the West of England said, before the Committee of 1819, that the deposits of his district might be estimated at one-third the circulation but now it is certain that in that and similar districts the deposits must be" ,ieven:orleight times the circulation. From being a frac- tional part of the bank notes, the deposits have augmented to a great multiple. If, therefore, you give at the outset of banking, to a single bank, the privilege of issue, you give to it the monopoly of the only banking which there exists, and the only one which will exist till after years of industry and progress. And though for twenty years the privilege of issue by the Bank has been restricted, for 150 years before it was unrestricted. For the first century and a half of banking in London the State gave the Bank of England the mono- poly of tbe tlarliest kind of banking-of the simplest use of credit-of the bank note, to which, after years of inquiry and research, a factious importance and interest is still at- tached, and they plaoed no limit on the use of the privilege, The consequence of so vast and well-timed a monopoly was certain it made the Bank of England immensely greater than all other banks-by many times the greatest bank in London. All other bankers grouped themselves around it: it was the centre, and they the satellites they kept their reserve either in deposit at the Bank of England, or in its notes. Without thought and instinctively it became the banker's bank,—the sole Bank of bullion reserve, as a con- sequence of its monopoly of issue, as an inherent attribute of its greatness. This monopoly of the metropolitan circulation was in itself enough to give to the Bank of England a decided preponderance over all other English Dank", but the Legislature gave to the Bank of England two great mono- polies besides. j First-They gave the Bank the sole privilege of limited liability in England. Tha old theory used to be that limited liability was a kind of Royal gift, to be given on special occasions for special purposes to individual persons, but not to be given to others. The questioning scepticism of economic science asked in our time, How is the Treasury to know beforehand which projects are good and which bad which are fit for the privilege of limited liability and which are unfit ? Either limited liability is a good thing for all banks whioh choose to avail themselves of it, or it is a bad thing for the Bank of England. It cannot be that limited liability should be essential to the foundation and existence of the very best bank in the world, and yet that, when tried elsewhere, it is sllre to produce bad banksi Accordingly, now the Legislature has given the privilege of limited liabi- lity to other banks than the Bank of England, rich men can now join other banks with as little risk as they can join the Bank of England. Until, too, thirty-five years or more ago,—that is, for a century and a half more,—the Bank of England had the monopoly not only of the principle of limited liability, but of the joint stock principle too, witn evtry sort of liability, limited or unlimited. No more tuan sliveii partners were permitted to join together in any bank but this one. In consequence, in great panics,—in 1793 and 182C particu- larly,-couiitl y banKers failed in frightful numbers, (iieat corporations of sound wealth and educated intelligence were, except in a single instance, forbidden to exist, and, therefore, over all tLe country persons of little wealth and little intelligence runhed into banking, managed recklessly, and ruined themselves and a crowd of others at every critical period. Ma.iy souud banks grew up, of course in a wealthy, educated, aud cautious country it could not be otherwise; but they were not encouraged by the Legisla- ture, but discouraged. For a full century and a half it may be said that the law did all it could not to make the Bank of England safe, but to make it the sole safe bank in England. The Government had no selfish object in view they did their best upon the accepted economical theory of their time. The system of monopoly in banking was the received system. Thi1 Bank of Genoa, and 01 Amsterdam, were the great examples to which every one appealed, and the Eng- i Itsh Government very naturally and very wisely tried to found an English bank comparable to them. But if a selfish object nad been wanted, there was one near at hand. The English Government had a natural motive for obliging the B.mk of England, for it lept, its account there Now-a- days, the credit of the English Government is so good that it needs the particular favour and BupporL of no bank. But for several years after the foundation of the Bank of Eng- land such was not the case. The Bank of England was able to buy its peculiar privileges, fur it obtained tor the English Government money and credit which that Government could hardly have obtained for itself. Hut in all modern times, and after the temporary discredit of the English Government had ceased, the sole custody of the taxation account by the Bank of England, its exclusive position as banker to the Government, its possession at times of very large Government balances, was another effectual method in which the English Government raised this one bank to a special prominence over all other banks. By making the Bank of England its own banker-by making it t!ie one bank of limited liability-by making it tile one joint stock bank-by making it the sole issuing bank in L mdon and near London, they made it the banker's bank, made it the sole keeper of our bullion reserve. tV lie II oanKS start fair, no one bank gams an enormous superiority over other banks. We have a capital example of this in our recent banking history. The great joiut stock banks of London started within living memory, and they run on side by side,—not equally, not evenly, but sti 1 without any one bank gaining an enormous superiority over every other. If a natural system had been followed,-if Government had not given the Bank of England the several monopolies which have been enumerated, -we should have had in England a considerable number of banks each keep- ing its own reserve. We should not have had a single bank responsible for the national oullion and the national credit, but a great number of banks, each responsible for its own credit, and each keeping the reserve necessary to support that credit. The great advantage of this arrangement, as of every arrangement which solely relies en the mere performance of a natural function, is that there is a penalty for its non- I)erforinance,- there is a check of self-interest. If a great number of banks, like our great joint stock banks, like our great private banks, each kept or professed to keep their own reserve, they would be effectually punished if they did not keep it. If a common banker mismanages he is ruined, people say He did not understand his business, and there is an end of the matter." But the Bank ol England has mismanaged times without number; in 1826, in 1797 it had no bullion in its coffers worth mentioning; at other times it has reduced the store very dangerously to a point which would have frightened people who had to live by it, who would have been ruined when it was insufficient. But the Directors of the Bank did not care,-at least, they only felt "a grave regret." They did not feel as peopie who are at the edge of bankruptcy, as people upon whom a trade debtor summons may be served to-morrow morning, unquestionably feel. They felt in 1826 as the War Department felt duriug the first winter of the Crimean expedition they knew thut the 'operations were most unfortunate, that I the dis st,, was deeply to be deplored.' But the credit of the Bank of England was not affected, perhaps not even its profits, and its managers, such is human nature, could not help being comfortable as well as sorry. That which has resulted from the original creation of anomalous monopoly—a monopoly for the most part-tself removed, but of which the effects cotitinue-is the existence of an exceptional bank, which alone keeps our bullion re- serve, which is alone responsible tor it, but which is under no penalty, no effectual, no ruinous penalty it it does not keep it. We have exempted a single person from the na- tural penalty on the non-performance of a particular duty, and we have delegated the exclusive performance of thi duty to that very person. When we see how anomalous are the essential position and nenessary action of the Bank, we 8ft ill not wonder that be palliatives to that position and the correctives to that action are in some measure anomalous too. But this is not the only peculiar, anomalous, and excep- tional feature in the position of the Bank of England. We have not only made it our sole treasury, the only place where we keep our store of bullion in case of need, but we have made it i.lso, in case of need, an unlimitef. source of loans. This was laid down with singular distinctness by one of the oldest, most expprienced, and cautious of the Directors in thi spring of IS57. Mr G. W. Norman gave the following answers to the follo wing q uesti ons The advances of the Bank of England are made through what is called the Discount-office ?-The greatest part of them What is the nature of the Discount-officer -It is | a fc'ft anomalous institution, because the Bank is supposed to hold out an offer to everybody to lend money to any amount on billo of exchange, at a rate of interest fixed by itself, and subject first of all to variations in the rate of interest, and then to certain other contingencies, such as a diminution in the cchcance sud an occasional rejection of securities crdinarily admitted. 3,521). Is it not principally by raising the rate of inte- rest that you check the amount of discounts which may be demanded ofyouP-Yes, we have found, contrary to what would have been anticipated, that the power which we possess and exercise of raising the rate of discount keeps the demand Upon us within manageable dimensions, There are other restrictions which are important. The rate we charge for our discounts, we find, in general, a sufficient And Mr Norman's description that the Bank of England, in the last reaort, would lend to any amount at some rate or other received a most ample illustration from the events of the following autumn-from what is called the panic of 1857. In the midst of the crisis, the Bank of England in- creased its deposits to more than ten millions over their pre- ?a'erage amount. At the end of September, the private "nritifs w?re £ 19,719,700, which was something like their Soma.?™ at ta.t t?e. In November, 1857, they rose I thus Pri.ata SoruritinR. .v £ 4th Novemb, er 22,628,2.51 26 '113,453 ??? 30 '299,270 18'h — '?'? ??.31,350.717 ?) 14- 6  Committee, that he did not refuse anyone who brought goo'! security. Under the present rule, which exclude ?  from the Bank, the pressu- -ue dis- on the Bank for etraotdinár, discsunts? at My estraorv "°?Y crisis, win I r a,O ty discounts, nt an estra?)rt. t great Propor- certainly be greater :bari it .å Tri1857. 'reet was therl tion of the discount business of Lombard S\. ?st was then suddenly forced upon the Bank of England.—i. low a greater proportion would be forced still more suddenly. We must always then remember, in discussing the con- stitution of the Bank of England, its essentially anomalous character. It is at once an ultimate treasury, and our last lending house. No wonder, therefore, that the constitution necessary for so anomalous a corporation should itself be singular and peculiar. We do not assert that Peel's Act with the safety-valve we propose would be the best possible arrangement. We do not think so. But we hope to show next week that it is the best probabie arrangement,—U'at a perfect constitution (or so exceptional an institution as the Bank is not possible—that what we propose would bt" a reasonable compromise—that it would, in most cases At least, work fairly well.-Econoinist. THE PAPACY UNDER THE NEW CONVENlIOtf, The drift of the Franco-Italian Convention is becoming- clear, and it is more encouraging than liberal Europe bad at first permitted itself to hope. It was seen from the first that the withdrawal of French bayonets from Italian soil must be in itself a gain, but men feared that the with- drawal might have been too dearly purchased. It was thought, more especially in England, that the treaty might contain secret clauses, that Napoleon might have privately re-assured the Pope, that the Italian Government might have pledged itself to give up all idea of Rome for the future as well as for the hour. This would have been to grant a new guarantee to the Pope, and one which being mora? might have proved more effective even than French bayonets. The Protestant world is suspicious of any news, so welcome as a serious blow to the Papacy, the parti pretre did not appear sufficiently alarmed, the Turinese seemed to doubt the good faith of the agreement, and alto- gether cautious politicians deemed it wise to postpone a final judgment. The week, however, has been full of documents intended to explain the Convention, and they all, differing on every point, ooincide in declaring that another and a severe blow has been levelled at the tempo- ral power. The departing Ministry at Turin has published its report, which is briefly that Florence has been selected as the easiest stage for Rome, and the Roman Committee, always well-informed, accepts the Convention with undis- guised alacrity. The Austrian press which for political as well as religious reasons favour the temporal powers, con- fesses itself deeply alarmed the Catholic world is begin- ning to utter a protest which every day will make louder, & the Pope himself who seemed so acquiescent has fallen back on the device on the Pontifex Maximus, whose successor he really is, and ordered daily processions to avert the wrath of the Gods. The College" has consulted the entrails and decided that the omens are sinister. In a despatch addressed to his Nuncio in Paris the Pope in angiy petu- lance threatens to do the one thing he cannot do,—summon another Catholic Power to his assistance. Above all, the Emperor of the French has given to the world the despatch in which he, through M. Drouyn de Lhuy-, informed the Papal Court of the change, and there is not a word in all its clear sentences which implies a guarantee for St. Peter's chair. Italy is, it is true, informed that Rome is not her capital and is required to select another, is pledged o guard the Holy See against any attack from without, and is com- pelled to promise for her own part not to seize Rome by foroe, The Pope, moreover, is enabled once more to recruit his treasury, is authorized by the Emperor as well as the King to maintain a foreign army, and is relieved of the danger of seeing that army driven out by Italian cara- bineers. Nevertheless there is nothing in the French des- patch to diminish the well-founded terror of the Ultra- montane world. The theory of that document is that the Pope is King of Rome, of an independent neutral State guaranteed by France and Italy against external aggres- sion, but in n ) sense guaranteed against the action of his own people. Rome does not, says the Foreign Minister, belong to Italy, but he never implies that it also does not belong to the Romans. The barrier between the Pope and the Italians is maintained, but he is left face to face with enemies more deadly than the Italians-the population of Rome. They may be kept down with troops, but then so they are now, and the difference between the army of France and 20,000 mercenaries just measures the difference in the Papal risk. N But the 20,000 might prove sufficient? They might were the Government any but what it is, but the first lesson in history is that priests cannot govern troops. The ecclesi- astical and military ideas conflict too strongly, the dis- honour of receiving commands from priests relaxes discip- line too greviously, and mercenaries always exacting grow towards priests too insolent for safety. Whether Spaniards or Irish, Belgians or Mexicans, however fanatic or however ignorant, the new soldiery is certain to feel that a position which forbids honour demands as compensation either wealth or licence. The experiment has been made a dozen times by the Popes and has always failed, while if it suc- ceeded, if the Pope should by a miracle secure an Alva, a first r-te soldier whose fanaticism surived personal con- tact with the Vatican, revolt would be only the more desperate and the more near at hand. The priests could not use such an army. They would rely on it to oppress their victims, to swathe up life in endless formulas, till the Romans, who fight like Partisians, would accept the cer- tainty of defeat in hope that defeat might stir up in Italy an irresistible compassion. It is, moreover, a grand assumption to rely on the fidelity of soldiers in an army whose very constitution precludes the idea cf patriotism. The charm of Rome, the strange influence of the sweet and stately character of her people, which turns Englishmen and Americans, the most unsympathetic of mankind, into Italianissimi, which works on Frenchmen till Napoleon has been compelled to "relieve" regiments on the Roman station lest their sentiments should be too openly mani- fested, will have its effect on any imaginable garrison. Above all the influence of the Italian Government will at last have fair play. Every ruling cardinal and every candi- date for the Papacy is an Italian, and on every Italian Italy exerts an iriesistible attractive force. Even Pius IX., who at once in his weakness and his obstinacy, his unscrupu- lousness as to means and his strange confidence in his own divine right, is perhaps the most dangerous Pope with whom Italy could have to contend, can scarcely disguise his contemptuous loathing for the foreigners who guard his throne, They are northern barbarians to him as much as to the most enthusiastic student or the meanest beggar in Rome. Once relieved of the French the Italian Ministry can conciliate, offer funds, protect cardinals, buy the roreigners, exercise all mar mnuence wnicb a great State can always bring to bear on a weak one enclosed within its borders. The Pope deprived of French bayonets is simply at the utmost a King, and a kingdom hedged in by one fifty times as strong, in which every subject is a traitor and every soldier a mercenary, never survived yet. If Cavour were in Turin he would within six months of the departure of France be the secret master of Rome, in twelve have produced a situation which should make Catholics welcome the Pope's flight as a relief to the world. There is but one clause in the Convention on which the parti pretre avowedly found a hope. Much happens in two years, and any accident, they whisper, may change the whole face of European affairs. Napolean may die, or Austria wm an Italian battle, America may plungfe into war with France, or Italy itself may be convulsd b? unexpected agitation. The Tories may arrive at power and promote their long proclaimed theory that the Pope must be independent, or a Pontiff may rise with the ability once feaV web Napoleon is breaking through. one of these fthi, ings are probable, but any one may oecur, and the Papey has for ages believed that time was on its side. The argument seems a formidable one to Protestants who have seen the temporal power survive every imaginable form of danger, including formal suppression, but it musa be remembered that Rome never before assumed such an attitude to the age. Its stupidity is as novel as its po- aition. Instead of heading the movement of the day, the the Papacy has declared war on modern civilization, and time," whi(;h signifies simply the s:eady current of events, ma) be for once against it. The long delay may produce new accidents, but then it also accustoms the world to think that the occupation will be withdrawn, enables fervent minds to perceive that the sun will shine even if there should one day be secular order in Rome. Every day of the interval will increase the number of its Italian foes, the schools and the books and the secular Ui- u^hts the new forms of activity, and the new internHs s > ftal to priestly power. When all the transactions" have been transacted, and the new levies enrolled, and tho treasury is filled with coin, and the city flooded with .endaruies, the fact will still remain that the Papacy i< in its essence a moral power, and that as a moral power time in this cen- tury is by no means its friend. Neither soldiers nor subsidies, guarantees nor concordats, can compensate to the lapacy for the loss of willing reverence which time is slowly producing, Every day sees some new see aware that the grapes grow though there be no bishop to bless the vintage, some new student pass out of college au inplaoable foe of