The Welshman

TSE STATE OF PARTIES. The stite of parties in Englanl just no'v is not very ex- traordinary, for we have seen frequently of late years some- thing much resembling it, but it is theoretically rather singular and practically very perplexing. The Government is weak and the opposition is yet weaker. All manner of stories as to possible causes of a political cri-is" are in circulation from time to time; "well-itifor,ned persons" will at any moment be ready to explain to you the dan- gerous results of this or that Ministerial speech in Parlia- ment, and if you will only listen long enough, they will foretell with more or less of confidence exactly when the Government will break up, by assault from without or from inaction within. These ominous conjectures are not, it is true, of any intrinsic value they are prophesies of what cannot be foreseen, and attempts to know what cannot be j known but though worthless in themselves, they are valu- able as indications of political feeling. A Government which is believed to be strong, becomes half strong thereby a Government which is believed to be weak, is deficient in a most effectual ingredient of power. J there are four participants, if we may use such a phrase, in the present political situation. The country at large and three parties in Parliament-the Conservatives, the satis fied Liberals, and the dissatisfied Liberals; and we shall venture to describe, in a few words, the position and tenets i The country, we believe, wishes no change of AJministra- tion on the contrary, it is well satisfied with the present. It is not, indeed, true that there is any strong personal attachment to Lord Palmerston; he is popular from his vigour, and his courage, and his pliability, and his age, and because no one else is popular; but he is supported by no warm enthusiasm, by no fast and firm affection. PossiMy it is not granted to successful, easy-minded men of the world to inspire any such feelings: they have their full share of other advantages and blessings in this world, and cannot, therefore, complain if they have not this one also. But after every necessary exception and allowance, it is certain that the country has at present much more confi- j dence in Lord Palmerston than it has in any competing statesman, and that the feeling is to be found in the inner minds of many of those who do not vote with him, as well as of those who do. The general disposition, too, of the country on domestic politics is identical with that of the present Cabinet, It is at once cautiously liberaf and criti cally conservative. The English people, taken as a whole, believe-whether rightly or wrongly is not now the ques- tion-that their political institutions are in the main good they are opposed to every organic change of primary im- portance or sweeping magnitude but, at the same time, they have no clinging attachment to the details of their laws they are ready to alter what can be proved to need alteration, and anxious to substitute whatever can be proved to be the most suitable and desirable substitute they are as far from the creed of Lord Eldon as from that of Mr. Bright—in a word, they criticise what exists, and, upon evidence, they will adopt what is proposed. And if this is a true description of the country, it is an almost equally true one of the present Ministry, speaking of them as a body, and not engaging in the discussion of minor differences. The extreme Tories say the present Government may alter anything: the extreme Radicals vow it wishes to alter nothing: and these are but the appropriate reflexes of a mental disposition at once scrupulously conservative and carefully improving. So much on domestic matters. Upon foreign policy it will be generally admitted that the opinions of the present Cabinet are much more in accordance with those of the nation than the published sentiments or feelings of any other persons who can by possibility replace them. The cause of Italy has been an excellent measurer of the natural sympathies and temperament of public men. The English people have been able to see which of them cor responded with and which of them were different from their own. They were themselves sincerely and heartily anxious for Italian freedom. They saw that Lord John Kussell and Mr, Gladstone were heartily anxious for it also, and they could not avoid seeing that Mr. Disraeli was anything but anxious. "lhe country, then, wishes no change of Government. Why, then, does any one wish it ? It is not very easy to say why the Conservative should covet office at the present moment. The wisest and calmest among them we know are not desirous of it, and there is an argument more impressive than any which they could suggest for their not being so. There is the lesson of recent experience. The Conserva- tives have twice tried the experiment of governing in a minority, and they have failed very ignominiously. No thinking Conservative looks back with anything like latis-I faction to the Conservative regime of 1852 and 1858. They know that though the Administration of those years were Conservative in name, they were not Conservative in fact; —they know that Mr. Disraeli, the ruling spirit of both those Governments, was ready to accept anything, to con- cede- anything, to carry anything;—they know that the only difference between those Cabinets and a Liberal Cabi- net was that every Liberal Administration professes to be- lieve in its own measures, and Mr. Disraeli professed, generally ostentatiously professed, to disbelieve in them. He paid a verbal homage to Conservatism, while he was in practical slavery to Mr. Cobden and Mr. Bright. Nt) wise Conservatism, no conscientious man of any opinion, can wish to see these scenes repeated. It may, however, be said that Mr. Disraeli will not be a third time permitted to play his favourite game. On the contrary, it is doubtless intended by many influential Con- servatives that he shall not play it. They will not, or they think they will not, be dragged through the mire for him or for any one. They intend to come in as true Conservatives if they come in at all; they hope to carry out the principle of the party both in policy and in legislation, if they should a third time be the occupiers of Downing-streot. But we are confident that these more rigid and sincere Conservatives would find upon trial that they had under- taken an impossible task. In foreign affairs the country would simply and unmistakeably repudiate and reject an anti-Italian and pro-Austrian policy,-tbe very po!icy, that is, which has been avowed by Lord Derby and Lord :\lalmes- bury as well as by lr. Disraeli; and in domestic aff-uis there would be a difficulty as great, though not perhaps as apparent. The English people would not now be content with mere Conservatism. Though not desirous of l,i-.e and perplexing innovations, they are sincerely desirous of mode- rate and progressive improvement. Some alterations a Con- servative Government, or any Government, must year by year make to satisfy the public mind. And the selection of these alterations would and must fall into the hands of Mr. Disraeli, the ablest, the quickest, the most ambitious, the most managing of all the Conservatives, he and Lord Stanley would arrange the innovations to be made. The policy would soon be the policy of 1852 and 185S The directing minds would be the same. and the characteristic measures would Dot be different. Changes would be pro- posed, not because the Cabinet thought them desirable, not because they were proved by principle, not because they were justified by preliminary investigation and approved experience, but simply and solely because the public mind desired them. In other words, the showy plans that happen to enjoy a fleeting and momentary popularity, the crude proposals that fleet before the undisciplined imagination, the loose schemcs of noisy agitators, would be caught at by a Conservative Government. As in 1852 and in 18.58, not professing to be convinced themselves, they would be at the mercy of the supposed convictions of others. They w!0 ld be obliged to alter, and yet would think they ought not to alter. To please their friends, they must avow lofty maxims of unmoved Conservatism to please their enemies, they mu.4, in fact, abandon these maxims to the winds. The Conservatives then should -not, we think, desire to turn out the present Government. Should any part of the Liberal party wish to do so ? The only persons who can have a p\lbl;c reason or motive for doing so are the ad- vanced Reformers. They may believe that they have a greater chance of obtaining a large measure of reform, or an enormous reduction in our military expenditure, or an important substitution of direct for indirect taxation, by aiding to destroy the present Government than by aiding to sustain it. They may say, we believe do say In 1858 we were not nominally in office, but we had real power. Now our party is nominally in office, but we have no power at all. Then we held the balance between the Whigs and the Coni, r,ative, Both of them were anxiously s'ling for our support on every important measure, and carefully con- sul'ing our wishes on every important occasion. Now Lord Palmerston is in power, and he does what he likes and he does not do anything which he dislikes. We are nobody and moreover his views are not our views, nor his wishes our wishes." Thoughts such as these are certainly in the minds, not perhaps of many, but of some members, and it is very necessary to explain concisely how far they are just. We believe that these opinions are wholly erroneous, and that a little examination will show that, regarding the sub- ject solely from their own point of view and with exciuiive reference to the attainment of their own conscientious aims, the extreme Liberals could scarcely comnit a more futile mistake than to turn out at this moment the present Go- vernment. We quite admit, indeed we have just maintained, that they might obtain from the stratagems anl the necessities of Mr. Disraeli some measures which they will not obtain so soon from Lord Palmerston. We concede that if the dis- satisfied Liberals were to act together in opposition,— which, however, no one who knows anything of the matter believes for an instant that they could or would,-they then would hold a critical position of peculiar though momentary strength, and would be able t% extort much that was of importance from the cringing weakness of an impotent Government. But at what price would the extreme Liberals buy this precarious ascendancy ? At the price, in plain and natural English, of disgusting the country. England would not en- dure that a series of measures which it did not think de- sirable should be stolen from it by a manceuvre and a stritijem. If the changes under discussion were really required by the country, no artificial alliance between the llsiiuals and the Conservatives would be required to obtain them and if that alliance did succeed in obtaining one or two such measures, the public mind would revolt at the unna!ural attainment of what it did not desire, would and some way out of the political dilemma, and would not iin probably be exasperated i,ito a rigid and bigoted Toryism It is to be remetnb"red that we have a great peculiarity in English politics, which gives a singular stability to our in- stitutions, and has left a remarkable trace on our political language. All our poli'ieal change, have been permanent; the public mind has been slow to acquiesce in their neces- sity, slow to apprehend their importance, slow to reconcile itself to the requisite disturbance. But the work so done is never iindone. The very term reactionary" has become a by-word of reproach. We assume that all that is past is right, "rod we refuse even to hear those who wish to re- establish any law which we have repealed, or any instituti m which we have abolished, We owe this great political advantage-ao advantage almost never p03>e-is?d in an equal degree by any other ) coun rv—to the fair, straightforward, so to say intellectual manner in which the great alterations of late years have without any exception been carried. They have been car- ried q the process by which the repeal of the Corn Laws was tarried,—by efficient penetrating argument, by con- tinued satisfying discussion. If the Reform party should depart from this policy, they will immediately titid that they lose its peculiar resalt. The repeal of the Corn Laws could not h i-e been a victory for ever, if it had been prematurely snatched by an unnatural combination of parliamentary parties, or a clever manipulation of passing circumstances. And if, disregar ling the good teaching of this great prece- dent, the advanced Liberals attempt to hurry on sweeping projec's for "hi'"h the public understanding is not prepared, they will find that a momentary advantage has been gained Î at the sacrifice of an inestimable lasting benefit-that what j they so hastily gain may very easily be as hastily retracted — that the Liberal party will have lost its most striking and efficient prestige-that it will no longer be the party whose defeats are transient but whose victories are immortal. We have said nothing of the "satisfied Liberals" in this long article, and it is not necessary to say anything. We do not altogether agree with them, or with some of them. The present Government may not be the best we can imagine; it is in many respects by no means the best. But we aree with the satisfied Liberals" that it is a good re- presentative of the mind of the country that its faults are the country's faults, and its merits the country s merits that it has far more tried and trusted ability in iti ranks than any other Cabinet which is likely to succeed it that, according to all the rules of plain good sense, we had better endure its defects, errors, and shortcomings, than again undergo the Government of a Conservative minority, casually aided and charitably strengthened by irregular contingents of Radical support.—Economist.

THE POSSIBILITIES OF WAR. The air is alive with the rumours of coming war. Statesmen in countries where speech is permissible scarcely ouen their mouths without allusions, almost painful in their anxious forbearance, to the possibilities of the spring. The press of the Continent discusses with little restraint eventualities" formerly concealed beneath the usual fig- loaf" of diplomatic reserve. The English press, which de- tests the very notion of European war, discusses its approach with less and less of deprecation. The soldiers of fortune, whose instinct for battle is as true as that of the kites for carrion, are swarming to Caprera, Paris, and Vienna The whole tribe of refugees, Frenchmen and Poles, Hungarians and Itass, who link us with every European land, and with nearly every grade of contintental society, are unanimous in their expectation of an immediate eruption. Even com- mercial mea, who usually display only a sort of sanguine sensitiveness tempting them to large but quick speculation I are contracting business, and looking suspiciously at all in- vestments. The funds on the continental exchanges are reported always heavy," and if the English market keeps its buoyancy, it is only because every probability is gradual- ly discounted. Europe, in short, agitated for twelve months, is fast passing into that stage of feverish anticipation which always precedes a great war, and too often helps to reader it inevitable. So numerous are the complications now demanding solu- tion, so vast are the questions hourly brought forward for instant settlement, that the fretful restlessness of Europe need excite little surprise. Complications, however, are not always resolved by the sword, nor are large questions I always beyond the grasp of statesmen. During the past twelve months an old monarchy has been overthrown, a great republic shattered into fragments, a ne.v power of the first class introduced into the world, and an ancient despo- tism changed into a constitutional federation without creating that European war which observers now seem una- nimous to expect. It is worth while, therefore, to examine once more the circumstances upon which these apprehen- sions, so urriversal and so injurious, really rest. Not one of the causes which we described two months ago as indisposing the sovereigns for war has in the interval lost any of its force. Louis Napoleon is still anxious for time to complete preparations of a magnitude Governments never attempt except with conq uest in their hearts. The Ger- man princes are still as jealous, as little capable of combina- tion, and as adverse to the military leadership of the only Power competent to lead them as in the beginning of the year. The Russian Court is more unequal than ever to a foreign campaign, for the old form of conscription, suspend- ed for four years, has been rendered impracticable by emanci- pation. Austria has regained none of the prestige shat- tered by the peace of Yillafranca. Ou the contrary, the Hungarians are many steps nearer to organized rebellion, Croatia, Transylvania, the military colonies, and other recruiting depots, far more inclined to make troublesome reforms the price of their assistance. The difficulties of Italy have not diminished, while her organization has so far improved as to increase her impatience of any interrup- tion to the process. England, always disinclined to war, with a falling revenue, a diminishing trade, and an inter- ruption threatened to her cotton supply, now looks upon hostilities with a feeling scarcely to be distinguished from that of Mr. Bright. The customary rulers of mankind, in short, still want immediate peace. And yet the causes which we then described as tending towards war have since become more menacing than before. No less than four distinct movements are on foot, any one of which may at any moment produce a general conflagration. The first of these, in April as in February, is the Italian. The probabilities of war for Venetia seem to increase with every successive week. Count Cavour is as anxious as ever for time, the Parliament of Italy as eager to smooth the path to organization, but the power to control is slip- ping from the statesmen. Austria cannot, if she would, tolerate attack, and the wilder spirits of Italy are becoming uncontrollable. Any band of Italians, by landing in Istria,or Dalmatia, or crossing, the Po, may at any moment set General Benedek in motion. The Mazzinians hold this obviously their true policy, and Mazzini, if he has never found soldiers, has never failed to enlist devoted martyrs in his cause. The enterprise requires no national party for its execution, scarcely even the services of a factiou. Three hundred daring men would carry it out as completely as an army, and the party of extremes now includes one-half the disbanded volunteers. They may be amenable to their great leader, but all other influence is visibly thrown away. So imminent is the danger, that the fourth Italian corps d'armee, urgently required in Southern Italy, has been recalled to defend the road by which the Austrims would enter the old States of the Church, and the ablest general in the kingdom has been selected for the command. The Premier even risks his popularity by arresting men guilty only of "plotting" for the relief of Venice a little too soon, and Garibaldi, as a last resource, has been summoned to a conference with the King. If he can be convinced, the Italian danger may once again be averted but it is with him, and not with recognized statesmen, that peace or war now rests. The Holstein difficulty, inchoate in February, or indeed at any time these twenty years, has been fostered at last into a danger for the Continent. All proposals to which Den- mark can accede have been rejected by Germany, not with- out contempt. The HoUteiners adhere to their resolve, union with Schleswig as a separate political entity, and as that resolve, if executed, extinguishes Denmark, the Danes justly characterize it as one which may be obeyed -after hopeless defeat. As matters stand, therefore, Germany is pledged to invade Holstein before June, and the Danes to resist the invasion. Denmark is incompetent to resist alone. Her whole force, reserves included, does not exceed fifty thousand men, and even a levy en masse would not produce combatants so numerous as the regular soldiers at the disposal of the Diet. She has, however, a good fleet, and a promise of the assistance of this fleet may procure her an irresistible ally. It is open to Louis Napoleon to maka the attack on Donmafk a pretext for the seizure of the Rhine. He may yield to the counsel of Great Britain, and suffer the war to localize itself, but a better opportunity for enforcing the j ust restitution" of another province, never offered itself to the sovereign whose destiny it is to tear the treaties of 1815 with the point of his sword." We pass by the Hungarian difficulty, which presents no new feature except this Hungary can now depend, in any 0 insurrection, on the support of the fighting section of the roles, support which, at all events, neutralizes the risk of Russian interference. But within the two months a danger, which for fifty years has threatened the peace of Europe, has assumed new and most formidable proportions. The unhappy empire of Turkey contains within itself every conceivable element of European disaster. All the irrita- tion which the idea of nationalities can produce is there added to all the confusion consequent on centuries of mis- rule. Two entire nations, and at least six well-defined na- tionalities, are now raging within the confines of an empire so weak that it exists only by the sufferance of the Powers its riches continually tempt. The Montenegrins are up. and have opened a road for themselves into Servia, where the reigning prince, a man Austrian by education and sympathy, has for months been collecting troops with which to attack his suzerain. The rayabs of Bosnia have risen, and the Turks have fled to the fortresses, there to commence a system of raids worthy of the middle aes. The Herze- govina is in insurrection, a movement directed at present simply to the extirpation of the Turks. In the Princi- palities the Turkish power is dead, and the notion ot a Rouman empire rapidly gaining ground. Italians are said to have lande I in Albania, which is penetrated by Greek sympathies, while the Greeks everyw here express their longing for any deliverer from a rule which they would detest as bitterly if it suddenly became just. We need not pursue the description into the remaining possessions of the Sultan. Syria, it is true, is occupied by Frenchmen, Asia Minor is seething with revived Mahometan fanaticism, the Viceroy of Arabia h'ts just been seized by a trick which indicates at once the perfidy and the impotence of the Divan, but we may let these things pass. In European Turkey alone there are five movements going on, each of which brings up with it. in its entirety, the old insoluble Eastern question, the only complication in which all the Powers are unable to concede a step. With four insurrec- tions in coveted provinces of Turkey, with Austria and Italy frowning like armed duellists separated only by the handkerchief of one petty stream, with Germany on the eve of invading an independent kingdom, and all the Powers, save Russia, armed to the teeth, there is at least reason for the rumours of war of which the air is full, And let it be observed that, of the questions at stake there ) is not one which involves only the States who raise them. Germany cannot, if she would, be indifferent to the loss of the Quadrilateral; France dare not for her honour suffer Italy to be crushed Denmark is the ally of France, a member, by law older than modern politics, of the Scan- dinavian body Every power in Europe :s endangered when Turkey is menaced, and aggression on Denmark, Italy, or the Sultan, implies that euUmte generate which we term a European war.—Spectator.

I A RADICAL IN THE HOUSE. We cannot but feel that the Radical member of Parlia I ment is still an tinippreciated beinz. He is inveighed against by jealous opponents, criticized by unsparing sati- ris!s; his name points the most telling sentences at a debating club, and rouses the most unaniinous objurgations j at a dinner table. Uut to society in general he is still inscrutable. Even the Honse of Commons fails to corn- I prahend him fully, though the difference of his demeanour when he stands among his peers and when he is haranguing a mob from the steps of the tocal town-hall might give a clue to his character. But no one seems to examine the workings of that sharp censorious mind, or to trare the ruling passions of that turbid bosom. And yet the moral anatomy of the Radical member is most interesting. As two animals or plants are determined by the scientific inquirer to be closely related through some hidden hw of their structure in spite of the widest external differences, so the Radical member, when closely examined, is found to belong to the same class in creation as the shrinking and silent recluse whose terror it is to have to talk to a young Udy. Yes, the gentleman with the heavy step and the loud voice, who spoke twentv-five times in committee last !ligon', and persevered in spite of repeated cries of Order" from all parts of the House, is one of the bashful ones. It is his very shyness which urges him to be rude. He swaggers to conceal his trepidation, as the boy shouts and sini^s while passing through the churchyard. There is about the House of Commons something which the demagogue would like to despise if ho could, but the effort is unavailing, and a short period of membership is sufficient to improve those of his class who have talents, and to em- bitter or cow those who have not. Whatever may be the future destiny of Mr. H. B. Sheridan's political career, it is evident that he at present exhibits that mixture of timidity, astonishment, ari l pique which we have described. The member for Dudley has been attending a Reform meeting at Wa!s?U, and has given his impressions of the Honse of Commons after the manner of a tourist returned from some distant land. It certainly shows how little we know of our country. -N,) one could have imagined that the subject could be made so interesting, What with the newspapers and London gossip, we all fancy j we know something of the House of Commons. That any- thing very new and startling could be told about the com- position, feelings, habits, and practice of this well-known assembly seems almost incredible. The world has had descriptions of the House not only from leading native j politicians and men of letters, but from observers of all races, Frenchmen of every political hue, Americans both enthusiastic and depreciatory, Orientals, and South Sea Islanders. But there is still something new to be told of it. It can be described as it appears to a bashful Reformer, who can never catch the Speaker's eye, and who nas never | succeeded in forcing himself on a committee. The obser- vations are valuable, because the idiosyncrasy is unique. Other Reformers may be a little nervous, but Mr. Sheridan has been totally overcome. Other aspirants to the fame of eloquence relinquish their designs in silence, but Mr. Sheridan goes to the country to complain of the audience which frightens him. Whin the hon. member entered the House he went, be tells us, to represent the great com- munity of Dudley, "and the whole of the inhabitants naturally had their eyes upon him." This was rather confusing for a timid man, and Mr. Sheridan soon felt all the terrors of his position. Before he was elected he did not know the difficulties which would beset him and surround his path." He was comparatively a stranger j to the charmed circle enclosed in the arena of the House of CommQns," but he thought he might eventually win his way in the assembly of which he was a member." But, alas! such hopes are vain in that unfeeling Senate. All parties, Conservative, Liberal, and Independent, are in a league against the member for Dudley. The two former are struggling for power and place, and the Independent party is worse than either, being "a narrow and small party," having among them discontented fol- lowers of faction, who thought by their defiant speeches b intimidate those in office to make provision for them." The House does not represent the people; it is full of Colonels and Captains, and but few, to his mind, impartial and independent. The Ministers are not plain Smiths and Browns, but have some distinguish- ing appellation or agnomen different from that which might be Buppnsed to belong to a Cabinet ost nsibly re- presenting the people." An "agnomen" of this kind seems to strike the deepest awe into the member for Dudley in other words, he attaches sublime importance to a title. The principal gladiators" in the Home were those who had some handle or prefix to their names." It was difficult to get on a Committee without a title. Mr. Sheridan had felt the effect of the evil, and had spoken about it; but "if a man valued the opinions of his con- stituents he durst not make himself a knight errant, as it were, unless he had a handle to his name." We feel that it will be impossible to lift Mr. Sheridan out of the slough of despond except by such a handle. Poor commoner that he is, he trembles at the sight of all this grandeur. Lords and Baronets haunt him perpetually, and ho fancies that they and their relations, the Colonels and Captains, are perpetually thinking of his insignificance. So complete is his dejection that he actually detects superciliousness in that sedate functionary the Sergeant-it-Arms. Our readers will hardly believe that the following is a correct repre- sentation of what a Member of Parliament has been found to utter an 1 an English audience to listen to: —"Alter alluding to the lordly influence exercised by the Serjeant- at-Arms, who met members at the entrance of the House and seemed to look down upon the represent,.tives of the people with the utmost disdain and contempt, Mr. Sheridan .ont on to allude to the Speaker and his influence, remarking that bis office of keeping order seemed to consist in wearing spectacles when it was necessary to see his friends, and leaving them off when independent members presented themselves to his notice. That was the way in which the privileges of the House of Commons were trilled with and frittered away," &c. What must we think of the class of members of which this gentleman is a type? "Oh! but," it will be said, there is no such class; no two men could be found to think and talk such nonsense. Not to talk it, perhaps, but we fear those who think it are sufficiently numerous. Mr. Sheridan only expresses with ludicrous simplicity the feelings common to a class in the body politic which is well represented in the House. He lays bare what men of more tact have concealed,—the workings of envy and mortified vanity on the members of an aspiring section which does not find itself appreciated according to its imaginary de- sorts. Times. i

THE CHURCH. At the Mansion House dinner the Bishop of Ripon took occasion to observe, that Never in the past history of the Church has there been a period when toat Church pos- sessed a deeper claim to the attachment of all classes within this realm. Never has there been a period in which there has been a greater degree of zeal on the part of the clergy, or a more heaity and fervent amount of co-opera- tion on the part of the laity in the promotion of every scheme which tends to the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom." As a general proposition this is undeniably true. The clergy were never more zealous, active and intelligent than at present, and they are proportionately respected. They have indeed improved, as all other classes and professions have improved, and the Bishop's boast sub stantially amounts to this, that the clergy have kept up with the age. But the word clergy is a large word, and when we freely admit the merits of the clergy we have in mind the working men of the body, the rank and file, as it were. The parochial duties were certainly never performed with such good "ill and earnestness as now. There may be, must be, in so lar^e a body exceptions here and there, in the persons of men who have made the Church their profession without any vocation to its fefvice, and who are indolent, indifferent, lax, or worse. But these are the black sheep of a flock generally sound and fair. And the lower we look the more we find to revere and admire in the clergy. Indeed the Establishment may be regarded as a pyramid the broad base of which, as it is the most lowly, is also the most excellent. And it is when we get towards the apex that we find a falling off. Take the Bench of Bishops, for example, and it cannot be said of them, as the Bishop of Ripon truly says of the clergy gene- rally, that never was there a period when they possessed a deeper claim to the attachment of all classes. The Bench is now neither better nor worse than it was a century ago. Certainly it has not made any progress corresponding with the progress of the inferior working clergy- We may be reminded that the material is the same, and that the Pre- late who is at this moment the most unpopular was a most exemplary parish priest. The fact would only show that a man fit for one sphere of duty may be spoiled by position in another. What the process of change for the worse may be we cannot pretend to explain, but is there one man on the Episcopal Bench who retains the same degree of esteem and affection that he possessed before he mounted to his present position of dignity and power? vve ijiutsi, uuL oe told that this accords with a common law, and that as men rise to the summits of authority they leave behind them the attachments and good repute. We see brilliant exam- ples not only of the retention but the extension of both, the present First Minister, for instance, the Duke of Wel- lington, and many others now existing, or living in fame. But so it is not in the high places of the Church, and none see in the Bishop a man better than or so good as when he was honoured and loved in the parish priest, W e are admonished not to distinguish between Bishops and working clergy, as no men are harder worked than the Bishops. We suspect that not a few curates and poor incumbents have toils more severe, coupled with privations but it may be admitted that the nature of the Bishops duties are not of so remunerative a kind in the affections and es. teem as to those of the humble pastor. Yet making liberal allowance for that circumstance, the Bishops have other ways and opportunities of largely recommending themselves, and earning honour and gratitude, and from what strange perversity is it that they do not e agmerl,* avail themselves of such golden occasions. At the City dinner the Bishop of Ripon said I believe that no clergyman and no bishop of our Church is at any time more truly discharging the functions of his office than when insisting upon the solemn facts of our holy religion, and using them as the incentives for self-denying and heai-ty zeal in the furtherance of objects which tend to the mitigation of human suffering and the consolation of the broken-hearted." This is well said. But the Bishop who insists upon solemn facts, using them as incentives of self-denial and zeal, is not to be content with moving others to the exer- cise of those virtues. lie must present the example of what he inculcates. He must not be like JEsop s trum- peter, who said his business was to inspire others with courage for the battle, not to go into it himself. And where was this self-denial and zeal for the furtherance of sacred obj ects when a brother Prelate of the Bishop of Ripon bestowed some rich preferment on his young son-in- law, neglecting the claims of old meritorious labourers in the vineyard, and turning a deaf ear to the prayers of a neighbouring parish much in want of the spiritual aid which might have been well spared out of the superabun- dant income of a living of £1,300 a year for the care of 1,000 souls ? Instances of this character, which are too frequent, do great discredit to the Hierarchy and prejudice the Bench. The very Bishop damaged by this greedy tran- saction was as a parish priest remarkable for the quality opposite to selfishness, and people begin to think that there is a mysterious something in the episcopal oifics adverse to the better bias of a man's nature, and giving it sometimes a diametrically opposite turn. Remarkable, indeed, is the perverse way in which Pre- lates disappoint the most reasonable and fair expectations. Doctors Tiiirlwall anl Harn pden have had bitter experience of a cry of heter )doxy, by which they they were nearly run down, and it might naturally be supposed that they would be resolved not to incur the risk of doing to others the injustice and wrong of which they themselves had so noany been victims. Not ignorant of the persecutions which may arise upon mistaken grounds, they might have learut rather to come to the succour than to join in the run against the denounced. But no, they have been amongst the most for- ward in the hue and cry against the authors of the Usstys and Reviews. Now even i! those tracts do deserve tne censures showered upon then, the two Bishops named should be the last to J'llll in the condemnation without trul- Nav, if the evidence were complete, they should refrain from throwing the stone at the guilt that has been imputed to themselves. Fellow feeling in default of higher motives should prompt a little charity, and (,nF (,f the pro>erioed authors may quote the writings of Dr Hampden as main- taining the very same opinions that are now condemned by him. So that he cannot plead, like the Bishop of Oxr >rd in his own case, that he had not read what he had censured, and had passed judgment without evidence, for Dr Hampden has not only read, but written matter, if not of the identical substance, to much the same effect as 'vhat he has !)' uucd. If any calamity were to sweep aw, the whole Episcopal Bench, and the first twenty-four clergymen that came to hand were to be promoted to the vacant sees, t':e change would probably be neither much for the better nor Îdr the I worse. No eminences would be missed, no great supu- riorities in learning, benignity, or vrisdom. We should not have to deplore the loss of a single example of the supe- riority of a Bishop of the middle of the nineteenth century over one of the corresponding period of the last century, considered now as so backward, and certainly generally inferior in the provirice-i of morals and religion. We may be t ld that after all there is no fault to be found with the pr'sent Bench; but is that really as much as should be said of twenty-four dignitaries in places of high authority and einolurnent ? Should not same merit above j the common level be found? Compare the Bishops with the Judges, and can we name the like of a Campbell, a Cockburn, or an Erie ? People ask in what are the Bishops better than other men, and unfortunately their revival of Convocation has not served to exhibit them as wiser, and their parts in that Clerical Debating Society have by no means raised them in respect. There are few vestries. indeed, in which the discussions could be idler, or more feeble. It was bad judgment for a company so mediocre to set up a separate stage, provoking judgment upon them as a body, which they escape in the mixed debate of the House of Lords.— Examiner,

SPAWNING FORCE. The Census papers have been distributed, and on the 15th of April the population of England will, for the ninth time, be accurately numbered. The public looks to the result only with patient curiosity, for it has leanit to regard an increase of population in every decade as a matter beyond the region of speculation. Yet nothing can be more certain than that the increase of is the greatest of political questions, or that there is no law known which should justify us in expecting the increase as a risht. Indeed, judging from the analogies on which such law should be framed, the Anglo-Saxon race ought to be ap- proaching its term of increase. Already it has certainly excelled every other existing pure race, except the Chinese, and probably every race which has ever held power on earth. 1. We say the increase is the greatest of political ques- tions, for though dominant races are not the only tribes which multiply, every race seems hitherto to have increa«eo dnring the period of its advance, and declined or remained stationary after its decline. The Greeks, from the dawn of their civilization, began to swarm off from their little hirth- place, till, fifty years after tho death of Alexander, Greeks had filled the islands of the Mediterranean and populated Asia Minor, where the sinew of the people of. the countries we now call European Turkey, were the dominant race ana city population in Eg-ypt, and the wairior class of Persia ruled in Bactria over a great kingdom, and founded all the Mediterranean colonies which rose into great cities Their rate of increase, if we may judge in the ab gence of statistics, must for some years have been as rapid as our own. Suppose it had gonc on till the Greeks were a numerous as the Chinese The population of Rome and Roman Italy increased, in the fwe of devastating wats, throughout the whole period of the Republic, perhaps later, for though the Emperors complained that Romans were wanting to fill the armies, they as colonists stamped their language, laws, and municipal habits deep upon the surface of tho world. The rise of Mahomedanism must have been accompanied by a sudden increase in the prolificness of the Arab tribes, for though it is probable that the usual estimate of the population of Arabia is absurdly below the truth, yet tribes unmistakably Arab in lineage are now found from the Riff to the moautains of Armenia. Suppose the multiplica- tion had continued, and Arabs had spread as they expected over the whole earth. So, too, the Turks, originally a clan, multiplied to about twelve iiii'.lions, and it is because the ( spawniug force is gone that the Turkish empire is perishing, as Lamartine said, of want of Turks. We are accustomed to think much of the qualities of our race, but of what avitil would its capacities have been but for this mysterious power of reduplication, which enables us to btiil,,l tui,-hty states with the mere surplus of our population, bupi-ose England had, during modern history, remained five millions strong or suppose the multiplication had ceased even in 181-5, and we were left to maintain the terrible struggle for independence with fewer people than Prussia or the Hun- garian kingdom. 2. There is no conceivable reason why we should not have been left, for, amidst a wilderness of theories, the ouly law discoverable is the total absence of law. Why should a race stop short at a given point. The instances we have quoted above would point to the idea that the vital energy which produces conquest produces also an increase of num- bers. But the facts are wholly opposed to that belief. The Irish, before emancipation, while still one of the crushed races, multiplied liku flies. The serfs of Russia increase as fast as freemen, and the negroes of the South faster than their lords. This last instance is not conclusive, for we do not know how far the increase is in the mulattoes, who may share the energy of their sires, but it is still fatal to the theory of the link between dominance and multiplication. The common belief that the presence of means of subsistence will account for increased numbers is equally disproved. Irishmen, as they approached starvation, multiplied faster, and all aristocracies, who are of necessity well fed, die out. Why, besides, should England with fifteen millions multiply while it did not multiply with five ? Civilization, we have said, seems contemporaneous with increase; but the French stand in the front rank of civilization, and their increase has stopped. They gain by conq iest, but England adds a new Savoy to her population every year without it. Why, moreover, should there be no increase among the Je-vs after their dispersion ? They were not an effete race, but out- lived the bitterest if their persecutors. Suppose, after their dispersion, they had multiplied at the Anglo-S^ axon rate. They would now exceed in number the whole existing po- pulation of the earth, and the history of the world would have been changed for ever. Yet why should Jews not mul- tiply as well as Sclaves or Saxons ? We shall be toid that there are moral considerations. Well, the, negroes, among whom there is almost promiscuous intercourse, multipl) faster than the Puritan population of Connecticut, and the Chinese, the wost race on earth, have grown from a tribe into a third of the population of the world. Why do races, again, which ha*e once grown, stop growing ? 1 here is no natural law compelling nations to stop at a nllmber, as men stop at rieven fed of height; for the Chinese are fix tiiiiu, as numerous as the most numerous of civilized tribes. Sup- pose there had been three hundred millions of Greeks, or Roman citizens, or Fi enciiinen -wL! would add bnglishmon, but that we are still increasing at a rate which, if it con- tinues, will make us in 1900 one hundred and twenty millions, and in 1940, less than a hundred years hence, more numerous than the whole population of Europe, Rus- sia included. Forty years more after that, a space of time less than the reign of the four Georges, would make us five hundred millions and, in all piobibility, sole masters of the"lohe There are plenty of means of subsistence, rill temperate America, North and South, as England is filled, and it would hold the whole, and leave great regions for still wider expansion. That any such increase is likely we do not believe, but that it should be even possible is a poli- tical fact, to which all European complications, and qua re!s, and aspirations are the merest trifles. Thre is  ground on which to deny or affirm the spec?aion me Athenian, the noblest human being who ever appeared upon the earth's surface, has died out. The Cliirleti,, ^ulldd have been missed just as much as a rat, has inereaei1 to three hundred millions. If he, why not the AUn"gllo o-iS 5, ixxoonn, who owns already all and who m?u?ltip?lies ?in ? al?t ?- who owns already all climates, and who p Spectator.

A SOVTII AMERICAN KINO-—The last letters from the Andes, in South America, bring a singular piece of in- telWneo A Frenchman has proclaimed himself King of Araummia; has appointed Ministers; and has given his people, composed of savage tribes, a Constitution as good as many others. The right of succession is esta- blished in the line of direct descendants of His Majesty Orelie-Antoine I. In case of hIs dying without issue the crown will devolve to one of the members of his ? I, 1 1, ? ? ? I family in such order as snau pe nerearter established by Royal ordinance. Araucania is divided into departments and communes, with prefects, prefectorial councils, municipal councils, &c. The French code is acted on in the kindom. The Constitution establishes the attri- butions and privileges of the King, the unity of the Araucanain people, and the equality of all persons in the eye of the law. The King's real name is (rrelie-Antoine, of Tonneins (Lot-et-Garonne). He has been living for six years past among the tribes in the South of Chili, whose chief ho became, and exercises considerable lll- fluence among them. JTU. GLADSTONE AND SOUTH T, -The fol- lowing is a copy of the requisition from the Liberal electors of South Lancashire to Mr. Gladstone. "Sir— We, the undersigned electors of the ooutfiern I Division of the county of Lancaster, respectfully request that at the proper time you will allow yourself to be nominated as a candidate for the scat proposed to be allotted to South Lancashire in the Bill disposing of the disfranchised seats of Sudbury and St. Alban s. The position which you occupy as one of the iirst statesmen and orators in Europe, the extensive knowledge you posses of the commercial wants of the country, the important part you have taken in its fiscal legislation, and the popular opinions you have expressed on its foreign policy, sufficiently recommend you as a fit and proper representative of our views and interests in the House of Commons; but we claim your services as our representative in Parliament on local and personal grounds. As a Lancashire man, the son of a Liverpool merchant, we invite you to represent in Parliament the constituency with which, by birth, parentage, and inter- est, you are most nearly allied. We believe that, while wo could select no candidate who .would so effi- ciently satisfy the varied and important requirements i of South Lancashire, there are few constituencies who would make less demand .upon your time and attention, and who would leave you more free in every respect to carry out the policy which YOU believe to be for the wel- fare of the nation at large." If, when the time arrives, you consent to allow yourself to be nominated for this dI VllOn of the county, we pledge ourselves by every legal means to secure your triumphant return."

WEEKLY CALENDAR. THE MOON'S CHANGES.—First Quarter, April lSth, at lorn, before 7h. morn. aiGIl WATER AT THE FOLLOWING PLACKS FOR THE ENSUING WEEK. Carmar- Cardigan Tenby DAYS. then Bar, and and Aberyst- Liane Ily. li: istol. Milford. with. ? M. H. M. n. M. H. M. ?atur?y,AprU1?7 ? 8 36 7 21 0 G (1 14 8 17 ') 7 7 O-, 9 M Monday, .t.S ? 9 -? S :2:, S Tiies?l,ty, 9 ??0 ? S ??l?? ?? Wednes: ?1X 0 -) 10 .?.9 1011 2? 'fliur!iday 1810 56 11 46 10 3j? 1 1. ^16 ?Friday, ..?19.12 5 12 55 11 10 1 ?26.5

SOUTH WALES RAILWAY. till 2 3 12 3 1 & '? ? ( 3 I & 2 fc.xp from jclass jclass elass class EXPIlas. class [ « £ r \p. m I ¡a.m. a.m. i a.m.) a.m a.m. p. m. I'addington.. 8.10 6.0 9.40 7 30 11 0 1.50 Swind?n ;.?/-10.35 9.0 11.35 12:10 1.15 6.40 Swindon ..?10.47 9.5! I 1..5)-1 !.30j f čJ' I Ulo'ster..?12.15 I 11.5 1.5 3.20?.10 Mail 1&2 1,2,3 Hlo'stcr..?2.1o 6.45 11-10? 1.10 I 3.30 8.'JO H.R.&G.Ry. kiereford.. de. 10.0 1.25 5.45 Ross 10.30 1.55 i. 15 Grange Ct. J. 11.0 2.20 b.45 GranEze Ct. de 7.5 11.30 1.25 3.50 8.35 Nownham 2.40 7.17 11.40 4.0 8.40 Lydney 2.56 7.37 11.58 4.20 8.64 Nvoolaston 7.45 12.5 ?28." (,'Iiepstow 3.14 7 55 12.17 1.55 4.40?-? Port.. ke wet. 8.7 12.27 4.52 .\laùr 8.17 12.37 a.4 LhnwefTl. 8.25 5.14 Newport ..ar 8.3512.55 2.20 5.25 Newport ..?- 3.48 8.40 1.0 2.30 5.35 9.34 C?rditf 4.12 9.5 1.25 2.46 6.3 9.54 BrLdgend. 4.52 10.0 2.22 3.15 7.3  Port Talbot.. 0.18 10.29 2.51 3.33 7,31 1050 Neath.?-5.30 10.44 3.4 3.41 7.46?" Ditto.?.5.3? 10.47 3.8 3.45 7.50?-? Swansea ..? G2 1,2,311.23 3.35 4.15 8.2.5?'? a.m. 1,2,3  Ditto de 5.37 8.0 11.0 4. io 3.55 8.0"" Landore 5 52 8.10 11.18 4.20 4.8 8.18 Gowerlld 8.22 11.33 4.40 8 38 •••• Loughor 8.27 11.39 4.45 8.43 Llanelly 6.17 8.37 11.48 4.55 4.35 8.53 Pembrey 8.45 11.58 5.5 9.3 Kidwelly. 6.37 8.57 12.7 5.15 9.1.) Ferryside. 6.47 9-7 12.19 -5.27 5.5 9.2-5 Carm. June. 72 9 20 12 34 542 6 2 9.40 St. Clears 7.21 9 3G 12-50 5.58 —— Whitland, 1952 1.6 6.13 NarberthRd. 7.43 10 7 1.21 6.28 5.55 Haverfordwest 8.111032 1.46 6*55 6.15 Milford Road I (for Milford) 8.26110 48 2.2 7.10 6.25 ?cw Milford 8.36?10 2.15 ? 7.10 ? 6.25? 7.2?')i 6.35 The G.O a.m. train from Paddingtoll is 1st, 2nd, and 3rd class to S.W.R. only and Ireland.

Starting Irish 1,2,3 1&2 ,2,3 Exp. 1, 2,; Maii 1,2,3 from Exp. ?.. ;11as I claes I & ? class a.m. a.m. a.m. a.m. p.m. a.m. p.m. New Milford 2.45 8.1-5 "1 11 0 426 6 30 Milford Road 8.30 11 12 441 6.45 Haverfordwest co 8.40 'f!. 1127 4 50 6.55 Clarb. ltd. 8.52 pj> 1142 7.8 garberth Pd. 9.5 lo 122 518 7.2o Whitland 9.20 ? 12 15 -7.37 St. Clears 9.? ? 12 28 5.40 7.52 C:mn. Jum. 3,52 6.15' 9.55 ? 12.-50 5.59 8.10 Ferryside 6.30 10.10 £ 1 5 6.14 8.23 Kidwelly 6 40 10.22 1 17 6.24 8 33 Pembrey 6.50 10.34 m 1.30 8..? Llanelly 7.2 10.45 ? 1.41 6.44 8.oo Louglior 7.10 10.55 g 1.50 9.4 Landore 4.48 7.35 11.20 2.14 79 ?? Swansea ..? 4.55 7.45 1130 ? 2.24 7.24  Exp. | Ditt0 de 4.45 7.25 11.13 10.50 1 2.9 7.0 Landore 4.50 7.40 11.23 11.0 f 2 19 7 14 Neath ? 7.55 11.38 11.16 2.37 7.29 Ditto .? 8.0 11.40 11.18 5" 2.40 7.31 Briton Ferry 8. 11.26 S 2.47 Port Tulbot.. 8.21 11.51 11.34 £ 2,58 7.42 Pyle 8.40 11.52 3 3.17 Bridgend 5.23 9.0 12.18 12.23 3 37 8.7 Pened 9.9 12.31 =- 3.47 Cardiff 6.0 9.56 12.49 1.17 5 4.36 8.49 Newport ..?- 6.2310.23 1.10 1.45 ? 5.8 Newport ..? 6.28 10.30 1 20 150 5.14 9.13 Chepstow 6.53 11.9 1.46 2.33 0; 5.5719.47 Woolaston 11.21 2.43 .? 6.8 Lydney. 7 8 11.29 3.0 g- c6.18o1i0n.5 e 7 .'2:31 11 ?,50 1 3.19 6.40 10.21 Grange Crt. ar 7.3?.2 2:5_.1 I 6 50 H.ltT&GTRyr £ I ?-???.45 3.50 J.-JO ? 8 4O Ross 9.15 ? 4.25 4.2.? ?. 9 1.5 Hereford..? 9 45?5.0 5.0 ? 9 4,5 lo'8ter. ar 7.50|12.30! 2.37| 3.45 i 7.10 110.47? 1 &2? I & 2 Glo'ster ..?e 8.0 12.40 2.45j 3.55 Q. 7-20 12.40 Swindon ..? 9.15'2.25 4.5 5.45 5? 8.55 2.10 1 & 2 3. 1 ') 3 Swindon ..?e 9.30 2.4Õ/ 4.15, 6.0 [9.5 2.20 2.50 Reading .10.28 4.3 7.5 g 10.12 ? 2.20 1, 2,3 paddington.. 11.15 5.0 60 8.50 J 11.0 4.351 8.0

SUNDAYS. DOWN TRAINS. SUNDAYS. UP TRAINS. Startg-from 1,2,3 1,2,3 1,2,3 StartgTfr^m 1,2,31,2,31^3 a. m. a. m. a. m. p. m. a. m. p. m. Paddington 8.0 New Milford 10.40 Slough 8.55 MilfordRoad 1055 Reading 9.40 H. West 11.5 Didüot 1040 .i Narb. Road 11.37 Swindon .ar 11.50 Whitland 11.49 Ditto..? 1.5 .St. Clears 12.2 Glo'ster ar 2.45 iCarmJune 12.21 6.15 Gto'ster..?.. 3.0 9,20 rrrside.. 12.40 6.30 Grange Crt 3.20 9.43 Kidwelly 12.52 6.42 Newnham.6 3.25 9.48 Pembrey 1,2,3 1.5 6.55 Lvdney 3.481011 Ll&neUy cla88. 1.16 7.6 Woolaston 3.58 10.21 Loughor 125 7.15 Chepstow 4.15 10.38 Landore a. m. 1.45 7.40 Newport ar 5 0 11.27 Swansea ar 1.50 7.45 \ewDort de 7.0 5.5 11.37 Ditto de 8.50 2.10 750 Cardilf 7.26 5.29 12.3 Landore 8.55 2.18 758 Bridgend 8.21 6.28 12,57 Neath ..ar 9.13 2.30 8.13 Port Talbot 8.50 6.56 1.26 Ditto ..de 9.15 2.32 8.15 Neath ..ar 9.3 7.12 1.39 Port Talbot 9.30 2.44 8.30 Ditto ..?.9.8 7.17 1.41 liridpend 10.2 3.13 8 58 Landore 9.28 7.42 2.1 Cardiff 11.0 4.6 958 Swansea ar 9.33 7.47 2.6 Newport ar 11.23 4.33 10.25 Ditto ..?c 9.38 7,52 Ditto ..?——— 4.38-—— Landore 9.48 7.57 Chepstow 5.16 Loughor 10 5 8 14 Woolaston 5.36 Llanelly 10.13 8.24 Lydney 5.44 Pembrey 10.23 8.33 Newnhatn 5.56 «••• Kidwelly 10.35 8.44 Grange Perryside 10.45 8.54 Glo'ster ar 6.20 Carrn June, 11.0 9.9 Glo'ster de 6.25. St. Clears.. 9.29 Swindon.ar 8 0 1 Whitland.. 9.46 Ditto ..de- 8 15 )? Narb. Rd. 10.0 Didcot 9.10 » A West 10.34 Reading 45 ? MUfordRoad 10.50 Slough 10.10 1 I 2? New Milford 11.0 ?Paddin??n 10.50 j The Mail Trains run the same on Sundays as week days, with this exception,—that on Sundays the 4.26 p.m. Up-train, and the 2.15 a in. Down-train, carries 3rd class passengers between Carmarthen and New Milford.

SOUTH WALES, MIDLANDS, & NORTH EASTERN I RAILWAYS. UP-TRALNS. WEEK DAYS. SUNDAYS. Ex. !l 2 3; Ex. I I, 2 1,2(123 1,2 1,2. Starting from 1, 2 lelass.1 1, 2 class class. class, class. Mail. -1- S.W.RAtL.a.m.?.m.a.m.a.m.a.m.a.m.?.m. p. m New IIitlor(i 245, 15. 11 0 10 40 4 26 C?rm.June..352J 615 955 1250 12 24 5 50 Swansea 4 45! 7 25 11 30 10 50 10 50 29 210 7 0 Cardilf 6 0 9 56 12 49 1 15 1 17 436 4 6 849 ?i 05 01 ?2 ?3 () '-) 37? 3 4,51 3 45. 7 1,5? 6 20_10-47 MIDLANDS,&c a. m. o. m.\p. 'n. I-P.-11-I;m'-l I;:m:¡'10Y;¡P. Glo'ster d. do 80 12 55; 3 52 3521 7 5511 8 0 111 5 !3wtol. arr 9 40 ? 251 5 32 532 9 40 9 ioj 12JO a. xt p. m.!p. m. p. m. p. m.l I'Õ'I p. m.? Glo'stcr d. up 8 20 12 I).')' 320 421 640 I' 8 221 650' Worcester arr 928 2 5 4 40 5 201 8 10 ? 9 27(? 8 20 Birmingham 10/JO 3 "1 ? i (1 4511 3°111 9 4,),¡I. Derby 1 0 6 10 7 5 50?i 12 41 Leeds. 3 3,,) 025 ? t335 3 ?.5 N. EASTERN, p. >u )p- '« 1 I m- ,a- ,n' ••••  ? P..11 "6 M. a Ll ul p? 0 ',1145 4 32 4 32 York. 415 ?10 .50 ? 333241 3,) ?owc?tle.745 ..J. I 61 ?6 1 | THIRD CLASS ARRANGEMENTS.—UP. 3rd cl. Passengers will be booked Through by the 2.45 a.m Express Train to all Stations North of Derby. 3rd el. Passengers by the 6.15 a.m. Train will be booked 3rd class up to Derby and to Bristol.. 3rd cl. Passengers by the 11.0 a.m. Train will bo booked 3rd class to Bristol. 3rd cl. Passengers by the 10.20 a.m. Train will be booked rd class up to Birmingham. DO ——————————— WEEK DAYS' I SUNDAYS. J ——?'??g? 2 ,'? 12i231,2!l,2 j 1, 2 1 2 ,2 11" class. !class. class Starting from class, class. class, class. class- class, clasa?  m. p. m.  ? a* "V lP7  a. m. N. EASTERN p. tn 'a. m. p1. 1 J ™ ?»8 a'm NnwoasUe.-d. 7 8 1\1,1 fa ork ?! t ? ?01040!!8? }Hrul,l gooi? l •• — o n *m ™' m*' P- m. a. m. mMf IDLANDS,&cp m. 3 m. 12 30 955 ?- fT ,900 720720 3301 12 33 Derby ..—. ?? ':5 100 100 5 15 2 45 64.5 ?.mmgham. ?? 40 11 2.) 11 25 632 3 41 8 15 ? ?r".?iSlX?li40??_?j? j? (ilo'ster "ant 4 4 ¡I. ,n'f ?'" p. n, I. en./p In.¡-n: 0 Bristol ..dep 9 0 H20 1 30 12 45! 6 50j 630 ijl i ster -.aj I :It t)4?i 3 10 2_? 8 10! ? 8 6 30 S \V7 Itk I L. m. a. m. ltl P. m.'?n7 p7 )a ? a. ,n_ p. m. ¿{o./t:Ikp 64,5 .? jai 'ï 1 10 3 30 2 loj 8 20 <\9 W,¡p¿;r 1 o P? 26?ia, in. Swansea 112 33? 415 8 25 6 2 11 25 2 6 20p3 0ro. !?nn.Junc..l232 5 40 5 18 9 40 70, ? 9 7 New Milford 210720 63.5 8 3 1110 THIRD CLASS ARRANGEMENTS.—DOWN. 3rd cl. pass. booked thro' by 7.5 a.m. train from Birming. 3rd cl. pass, booked thro' by 9.0 a.m. train from Bristol. cl. ? s. booked thro' by 1 25 p.m. train from Bristol. 3 d cl. p: b'Jokoù thro' by 7.20 a.m. from Derby and .-it it tons North of Birmingham. 3rd cl. pass, booked thro' by 5.15 a.m. train from New- astle and all stations North of Derby.

I VALE OF NEATH RAILWAY. UP TRAINS WEEK DAYS. I SUNDAYS. .??gl?gy?g?gjY?g?g Starting From iClass Class Class ciassjciass Class SOUTH WALES { A.M P.M.j P.M. p.lIl.l A.M. P.M. Swansea dep.1 7 25 9? 7 86 Llansamlet j 7 50 2 28] 9 5 8 5 Neath arr.t 7 55 2 37! 7 29 9 13 8 13 VALE OF NEATH. 7 55 2 37? 7 29 1 9 13 813 Neath dep.! 8 30 2 52 7 4-5 9 20 8 30 Aberdylais j 8 35 2 57i 7 50 9 25 8 35 Resolven I 8 47 3 91 8 0 9 35 8 45 Glyn-Neath j 8 57 3 19' 8 8943853 Hirwain arr.! 9 17 3 39) 8 28 10 3 9 13 H:rwaind.forAberdar? 9 23 3 45 6 30 8 3510 10 9 20 Aberdare Arrival. j 9 35 3 57? 6 45 8 4510 20 9 30 Hirwain d, for Merthr 9 20 3 42? 8 31 10 6 9 16 .Llwydeoed '7 ? 3 49? 8 38?10 13 923 Merthyr Arri,.] 9 501 4 121 9 0 10 35 9 45 DOWN TRAINS. WEEK DAYS. SUNDAYS 1 3 3,1 2 3,1 2 3 1 2 3 1 2 3(1 2~3 Starting From |ciass;ciassjciass|ciass Class Clarg -1-8 VALE OF NEATH. I A.M. P.M. P.M.P.M. A.M. P. M Merthyr dep.I 8 55 1 50 6 0 7 45 5 50 Llwydcoed 9 12 2 7 6 171 8 2 6 7 Hirwain arr. 9 18, 2 13' 6 23j 8 8 6 13 Aberdare Departurei 9 0 1 55 6 5j 8 10 7 50 5 55 HirwainArrival 9 13; 2 8 6 18,823 8 3 6 8 Hirwain .dep. 9 21 2 15 6 25 8 10 6 15 Glyn-Neath 9 41! 2 34: 6 441 829 6 34 Resolven.. 9 51 24316 53 8 38 6 43 Aberdylais j 10 5; 2 55; 7 51 8 50 6 55 Neath arr, 10 10; 3 0j 7 10! 8 55 7 0 SOUTH WALES. J i Neath dep.! 10 47 3 8 7 5 0 9 8 717 LI ansamlet j j j I Swansea arr.ill 23i 3 35^ 8 25.1 9 3iv 7

LLANELLY, LLANDILO, LLANDOVERY, AND CWMAMMAN RAILWAY. ? TRAINB, ,2rI,2,3 1,2,3 UV TRAINS. i Class Class Class CQ q 'S'?r<tMy from A.M. 3 !LhneHy(S. W. R. St) 9 0 12 0 5 10 E !Dock 9 5 12 4 5 15 04 Bynea 9 15 12 12 5 25 H Llangennee 19 20 12 IS 5 30 fa Pontardulais 9 30 12 25 5 40 >■ I Pantyffynon 9 4-5 12 35 555 rn j J Garnant..departure 9 20 5 30 CO Cross Inn" 9 40 5 50 ?o Cross Inn arrival 9 50 6 0 W Gariiaiit.. 10 10 6 20 q — i. « Llandebie 9 50 12 40 6 0 o Derwydd Road 9 55 12 45 6 5 g Fairfach. 10 5 12 55 6 15 Z Llandilo 10 10 1 0 6 20 3 Glanrhyd 10 20 1 10 (; 30 2 Llangadock 10 25 1 15 6 12 £ 3 Lampeter Road 10 30 1 20 6 50 g Lampeter Road :110 40 1 '0 7 0 Liandovery 1,2,3 l,2,3|i,2,3 DOWN TRAINS. Class ??? ? G < c Z Starting ?'OW A.Ni.P-. m P.M. Q Llaudovery. 8 45 1140 450 ? Lampeter Road 8 55 11 50 5 0 04 Llangadock 9 0 11 55 5 5 t-3 Glanrhyd 9 5 12 0 5 10 tz Llandilo 9 15 12 10 5 20 P* Fairfach 9 20 12 15 5 25 53 DerwyddRoad 9 30 12 25 5 35 00 Llandebie 9 35 1 3 5 40 Pantyffyuon 9 45 12 35 5 55 ? iO K) Garnant..?a/-<MT? 9 20 5 30 ? u Cross Inn 9 40 5 50 ? Cross Inn <!??t'?J 950 6 0  O Garnant.. 10 10 12 j?. O Pontardulais.10 0 12 50 6 5 § Llangennech 10 7 1 0 6 12 z Bynea 10 15 1 10 6 20 cl Dock 10 24 1 20 j 625 a UancHy(S.W.K.St)il030 1 2,j 6 30 Garnant Passengers wlil be set down or taken up at Gellyceidrim or Cross Keys, if required. The Trains will stop at Llangennech, Derwydd Road, and Glanrhyd by Signal only; Passengers wishing o alight must give notice to the Guard at the next Station of their intention.

NEWPORT, ABERGAVENNY, & HEREFORD R^ DOWN TRAINS. WEEK DAYS. D: S. Starting from 1, 2 1 2 3 1 2 2 1 2 3 1 2 3 1 2 3 a. in a.m. a.m. p.m. a.m. p.m. Shrewsbury 3 15 12 40 4 20 3 15 3 0 Ludlotr 4 4.5 147 5 15 4 45420 Leominster f5 15 2 10 6 16 5 15 4 45 Hereford dep 8 0 9 30 2 50 6 55 9 0 5 30 Abergavenny 9 011 15 3491 7 5.5 10 3636 Usk arr 10 20 4 2-5 10 5-5 7 20 Monmouth arr 11 20 5 10 II 40| 8 5 Monmouth. dcp 8 2 2 O? 9 15 5 0 Usk dep 9 5 3 0; 10 0 5 45 Pontypool Road.an U 3012 0 4 18 8 25 10 3?2157455 Pontypoo? Road..dep 9 40 12 10?,423? 8 25 10 35 7 15 Pontypool 9 45 12 15 4 28! 8 30 10 40 7 20 11 15 12 30 440 8 4,5i10 55735 Cruiiiiin ..J ?. :10 512 40 4 48! 8 53 11 -745 Rhymney June 10 10 12 -50 4 53; 8 58 11 12 7 50 R',i y tntie y June 10 l(? 12 50 45,3! 8 58 11 1?2750 -1- Quaker's Yard. 10 30 1 10 5 9 9 18 11 35 8 10 Merthyr 10 50 4 10 5 2-5 9 40 11 56 8 35 Pontnewydd 9 50 12 2-5 4 28 8 35 10 41 720 Newport, Mill-street 10 012 40 4 38 8 45 10 50 7 30 FP TRAINS WEEK DAYS. SUNDAYS. Starting from 1 2 3 1 2 31 2 3 1, 2 :1 2 3 1 2 3 1 a.m. a m. p.m. p.m. a.m. p.m. Newport, Mill-street 7 50 11 10 3 0 6 30 10 0 5 30 Pontiiewydd 8 0 11 20 3 10 6 40 10 10 5 40 Merthyr 10 10 1 45 5 40 9 15 4 45 Quaker's Yard 10 4012 15 5 55 9 33 5 5 Quaker's Yard ?0 .57 2 35 6 15j 9 52 5 24 Rhymney June  Tredegar Junc i12!-245'i- 6 20! 9 57 5 29 Crumlin 11 12 3 Oj 6 30 10 7 5 38 Pontypool 11 25 3 15| 6 42! 10 20 5 50 Pontypool Road..arr 11 3 3 20,:6 49 10 2.5 5 55 Pon typool Hoad. del' 8 10 11 37 3 23?6 53 10 25, 5 55 Usk arr 4 25 7 3510 55 7 20 TJ arr 4 ?.5i Monmouth .Mr 5 10 8 25 11 40 8 5 Monmouth.dep 8 20 2 0 5 45 9 15 5 0 Usk .dep 9 5 3 0 ?6 30 10 0 5 50 Abergavenny 8 42 12 10 3 58 7 22 11 0 6 28 ? Hereford dep 9 40 2 40 5 15 8 20 12 5 8 25 e,) nai nste.r dep 9 40 2 40 5 li?8 20 12 5 8 2,5 ?d?m ? nstJr 10 25 3 ?10 5 50 8 47 12 45 8 40 a dio ?v 10 55 3 45 6 14 9 5 1 11 9 7 ewsbury 12 20 4 55 7 30 10 0 2 25 10 4

ADVERTISEMENTS AND ORDERS RECEIVED BY THE FOLLOWING AGENTS :— LONDON Mr. White, 33, Fleet-Street Messrs. Newton and Co., 2, Warwick-square Mr. Deaoon, 154, Leaden- hall-street; W. Dawson and Son, 74. Cannou-street, Mr. C. Mitchell, Red Lion Court, Fleet-street: Messrs Hammond and Nephew, 27, Lombard-atreet where the Paper is filed. ■ m 11111 !■ wii— iwiiL _i ttttttiw— —n—irr-mi Printed at1.1 Published in Lammas Street in the Parish of St. Peter, iu the County of the Borough of Carmarthen, by the Proprietor, JosEPH HEGiNBOTTOM,.of Picton Terrace in Carmarthen aforesaid. I FRIDAY, April 12, 1861.