Papurau Newydd Cymru
Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru
20 erthygl ar y dudalen hon
The AWFUL CALAMITY at SANTIAGO…
The AWFUL CALAMITY at SANTIAGO L The Atrato, which has just arrived at Southampton from the West Indies, brings news of a terrible calamity at San- tiago, the capic&l of Chili. It seems that on the evening of the 8th of December, ou the occasion of a great religiou3 festival, the church of La Compania was densely crowded with a congregation of 3,000, most of these being females. The church v/as hung with light drapery, and I brilliantly illuminated. From some accidental cause the drapery took lire, and in a few minutes the building—a wooden one—was in flames. The congregation crowded to the doors to get out, but were for the most part unable to do so. A terrible scene ensued Fife rained down upon the unfortunate women, and in fifteen minutes upwards of 2,000 females were burnt to death or suffocated. The following account is extracted from a Santiago paper, called HZ Ma-- curio del Vapor :— A dreadful visitation has fallen upon us. Truly this is a a day of trouble, and rebuke, and blasphemy." The voice of lamentation is heard all over the land, the bitter weeping of fathers, husbands, and lovers, for those who were the joy and brightness of their life, that refuses to be comforted because they are not. Hundreds of young girls, only yesterday radiant and beautiful in the luxuriant bloom of the fresh, hopeful sprint of life, to-d.y calcined, hideous corpses, hor- rible,° loathsome to the sight, impossible to be re- cognised. The S"h of December was a great triumph for the clergy of tht- church of the Jesuits in Santiago. An enthusiastic audience filled every nook. There were hardly any men there, but 3,000 women, comprising the flower of the beauty and fa-hion of the capital, were there, very many against the will of fathers and tH bands. Never had such pyrotechny been seen before 20,000 lights, mostly camphine, in long festoons of coloured globes blazed the churqjl into a hall of fire. But the performance had not yet begun, when the crescent of fire at the foot of the gigantic image. of the Virgin over the high altar, overflowed, and climbing up the muslin draperies and pasteboard devices to the wooden roof, rolled a torrent of flame. The suddenness of the tire was awful. The dense mass of women, frightened out of their senses, numbers fainting, and all entangled by their long, swelling dresses, rushed, as those who knew that death was at their heels, to the one < oor, which soon became choked up. Fire was everywhere. Streaming a'ong the wooden ceiling, it flung the paraffin lamps, hung in rows there, among the struggling women. In a moment the gorgeous church wa3 a sea of flame. Michael Angelo's fearful picture of Hell was there, but exceeded. Help was a 1 but impossible A Hercules might have strained his strength in vain to pull one from the serried mass of frenzied wretches who, piled one above another as they climbed over to reach the air, wildly fas'ened the gripe of death upon any one escaping, in order that they might be dragged out with them. Those who longed to save them were doomed to bear the most harrowing sight that ever seared human eyeballs. To see mothers, sisters—tender and timid women —dying that dreadful death that appals the stoutest heart of man—within one yard of salvation—within one yard of men who would have given their lives over and over again for them it was maddening; the screaming at;d wringing of hands for help as the re- morseless flames came on-and iben—save when some already dead with fright were burnt in ghastly in- difference—their hor-ible agony—some in prayer— some tearing their hiir and battering their faces. Women seized in the embrace of the flames were seen to undergo a transformation as though by an optical delusion, first dazzlingly bright, then horribly lean and shrunk up, then black statues rigidly fixed in a. writhing attitude. The tire, imp/isoned by the immense thickness of the walls, had devoured everything combustible by 10 o'clock. Then, defying the sickening stench, people came to look for their lost ones. Oh, what a sight the fair, placid moon looked down upon. Close packed crowds of cilcined distorted forms, wearing the fearful expression of the last pang, whose smile was once a Heaven—the ghastly phalanx of black statues twisted in every variety of agony stretching out their arms, as imploring mercy-and then of the heap that had choked up the door, multitudes with the lower part-* perfectly untouched, and some all a shapeless maSS but with one arm or foot unscathed. The s lence, after those piercing screams were hushed in death, was horrible. It was the silence of the grave, unbroken but by the bitter wail or fainting cry. Two thousand souls had passed through that ordeal of fire to the judgment-seat of God. Heroic acts of sublime daring have not been wanting. Enduring gratitude has been excited in every Chilian heart by the gallant efforts of Mr. Nelson, the Minister of the United States. his countryman, Mr. Meiggs, and several other foreigners. There were generous men who defied the fury of the flames to save lives, and some of them died martyrs to their noble hearts. An Englishman or an American, it is unknown which, was seen to rmh through the flames, to seize in his powerful arms a Judy, stride with her a, little way, and then his hair in a blaze and choked with smoke, to fall back into the volcano never to rise again. A young lady named Orella, having in vain implored some by- standers, on her knees, to save her mother, rushed in and shortly aft-rwards miraculously issued forth, bearing her glorious load. A young lady named Solar, just before the smoke suffocated her, had the presence of milld to knot her handkerchief round her leg, so that her corpse might be recognised. The poDulation of Santiago is fired with indescrib- able indignation at tha conduct of the priests. The public conscience holds them guilty of the death of all thesr- victims, because, by collecting together all the material most likely to produce a fire-a countless number of lights, pa-teboard scenery, and muslin hangings, admitting a vast crowd, and covering the one door open with a screen, they took every pains to bring about this tragedy. When the fire broke out, and people were escaping by the sacristy, they blocktd up this door, to devote themselves the more undisturbedly to have what they could. The list of things saved makes one's blood run cold. What they saved, what they have put away in cigar-shops and the houses in front, are—a gilt image, some wooden saints, a sofa or two, some books, chalices, silver candlesticks, and a great deal of matting and carpet! After saving their trash, these flew away in company with the owls and bats that infested the ancient walls, excppt that one priest favoured the agonising victims with his absolution, and Ugarte [the preacher] requested them to "die happy, becausethev went direct to Mary." They then forsook the scene, and in that awful night— when fainting women and desperate men strewed the streets, and writhing forms that a few hours ago were graceful and beautiful maidens moaned and died in chemists' shops—not a priest was to be seen to whisper a word of Christ's comfort to the dying ear, or hold the precious crucifix before the glazing eye. No, not so, for the priest of nature was there- woman, a ministering angel in the dark hour, tended and soothed as usual. One young lady. God bless her tore up all her underclothing to make bandages, and bound up the wounds as only woman can. All this awful nighn the only thing that reminded us of the clergy was the incessant tolling of bells, about the only thing they could do to increase the horrors of the scene. This being the third time this church has filled our homes with weeping, all with one voice demand that it never should be rebuilt, but the priests oppose it. On the 11th they appeared on the scene to take pos- session of the blackened ruins, but the sentinels drove them off with the butt-ends of their muskets. The Government has shown no energy, and one minister is, unhappily, a creature of the clergy but the people in whose hearts, as having wives and daughters, there dwells an idea of right—something from God—have been in earnest, and the Government has had to follow and yield to pressure. The decree has gone forth, and not one stone of that accursed church shall be left on another. On as we write our eyes fill with tears, nothing can console us in this affliction; we <an think of nothing else but our Joss—of those who never will come back to us; but still there will have ensued some good, if the dominion of the priests have melted away in the smoke of that awful burnt sacrifice, which, laden with the dying breath of 2,000 victims, rolled up to accuse them of murder, before the throne of God.
FASHIONS FOR FEBRUARY.
FASHIONS FOR FEBRUARY. (From Le Follet.) We have this month to notice such an extensive list ofeteganL ^repses, that we will only devote a limited space to general remarks. At the present moment, ball and evening dresses are of the first consideration. Low bodies are cut rather square, or slightly in the shape of a heart. Thick materials are usually made with round waists. Very wide sashes are worn with these, tied behind, with double falling bows the sleeve is made with a bouillonne of the same material as the dress. The trimming of the skirt reaches about half a yard up from the bottom—narrow flounces bouillonnes, bands of velvet or taffetas, lace or chenille fringe, are all in vogue. A net-work formed of chenille, or with small hanging plush ornaments, is also worn; and fur is a< fashionable as ever. Tarlatane dresses are even trimmed with bands of swansdown, and the effect produced is both novel and pretty. Swiss ceintures and corselets are still quite the rage. They are to be seen in so many different styles, that all tastes may he pleased but those made with barques, and laced up in front are, perhaps, the most stylish. Visiting dresses are frequently made quite plain, with merely epau- lettes of passementerie, and aumonieres to match. Passementerie is sometimes put up every seam of the skirt. The skirts are made quite as long and fan- shaped as formerly of course the lower part much wider round than the upper. Sleeves are still very small and long, only just opened sufficiently at the waist to show the under sleeves. The convenient and charming little vestes, with under-waistcoats, are as indispensible as evtr. Those for morning are made of satin, velvet, plush, or even cachemire, but always with the Indian chemisette of foulard in the evening, of course, the veste is more elegant and worn over a chemisette of Yak lace, lined with satin of the same colour as the dress. Opera cloaks made of light- coloured velvets, and trimmed with wide fringe and passementerie, are very elegant. The shades most admired are white, ponceau, or gold. Our description of dresses commences with those ap- propriate for evening wear. An azure-blue satin, with a narrow flounce of white bugles round the bottom of the skirt. An over-skirt of white tul'e, trimmed with wide blonde, and caught up at equal distances with wide blue satin ribbon, spotted with silver. The ribbons commence at the waist, and are finished off with a bow and white bugle fringe. The body is made of white tulle over blue satin, and the drapery formed of blue satin trimmed with blonde. The sleeves —very short—also made of satin, and trimmed with drapery and blonde. A ball dress A skirt of very fine white tarlatane with several narrow flounces, altar- nately of white taffetas and tailatane; above these some bouillonnes of tulle. The whole skirt is covered in this way, aud small bows of white or coloured chenille are dotted about over it. The body is made of white taffetas, with a plastron of white tulle. A robe with three skirti of white tulle trimmed with ruches over a skirt of ponceau satin. The body is of satin, bouil- lonne with tulle, and the sleeves, which are made very short, are also of full tulle. All over this dress are bouquets of pomegranate flowers with green foliage. A dress of white crape over white satin, the crape skirt forming a tunique, which is trimmed round with white blonde flounces. A trimming of peach blossoms finishes the toilette. A black velvet dress the body, sleeves, and skirt have bands of blue satin upon them, over which are flounces of black lace. The body is cut in the Swiss style, and the lace put flat over the bands of satin. A dress of white tulle, with bouillonnes up to the knees, and an under-skirt of ponceau satin. A flounce of black lace nearly a yard wide is placed over the bouillons of tulle. festooned with bouquets of pome- granate flowers. The body, of satin, is covered with drapery of white tulle mixed with black lace. The sleeves are made to match and on both body and sleeves are bouquets of pomegranate flowers. Robe lmperatrice of violet poplin, trimmed round the skirt with a band of black velvet and a fringe of ball", which reaches nearly down to the bottom of the dress. Basque, and the bottom and top of the sleeves, trimmed to match. A similar fringe, forming a square berthe, is placed on the body. A wedding-dress of white satin, having round the bottom a trimming of swansdown between fifteen and sixteen inches wide. This dress is made with a train. Another marriage- dress is of white terry velvet, with three wide flounces of English lace, each flounce headed with a narrow band of swansdown an inch wide. A plain body, with buttons formed of pearls about the size of a small nut. At the top of the sleeves, a narrow band of swans. down. There is little change in bonnets this month they are, if possible, more simple and elegant than those for January.
THACKERAY'S LAST WORK.
THACKERAY'S LAST WORK. Charles Dickens, writing about Mr. Thackeray in the February number of the CornhiU Magazine, says :— On the table before me there lies all that he had written of his late and last story. That it would be very sad to any one—that it is inexpressibly so to a writer—in its evidences of matured designs never to be accomplished, of intentions begun to be executed and destined never to be completed, of careful preparation for long roads of thought that he was never to traverse, and for shining goals that he was never to reach, will d be readily believed. The pain, however, that I ha, e felt in perusing it has not been deeper than the con- viction that he was in the healthiest vigour of his powers when he wrought on this last labour. In respect of earnest feeling, far-seeing purpose, character, incident, and a certain loving picturesquenes* blending the whole, I believe it to be much the best of all his work?. That be fully meant it to be so, that he had become strongly attached to it, and that he bestowed great pains upon it, I trace in almost every page. It contains one picture which must have cost him extreme distress, and which is a masterpiece, There are two children in it, touched with a hand a9 loving and tender as ever a father caressed his little child with. There is some young love, as pure and innocent and pretty as the truth. And it is very re- markable that, by reason of the singular construction of the story, more than one main incident usually belonging to the,end of such a fiction is anticipated in the beginning, and thus there is an approach to completeness in the fragment, as to the satisfaction of the reader's mind concerning the most interesting persons, which could hardly have been better attained if the writer's breaking-off had been foreseen. The last line he wrote and the last proof he corrected are among these papers through which I have so sor- rowfully made my way. The condition of the little pages of manuscript where death stopped his hand shows that he had carried them about, and often taken them out of his pocket here and there, for patient revi- sion and interlineation. The last words he corrected in print were, "And my heart throbbed with an ex- quisite bliss. God grant that on that Christmas-eve when he laid his head back on his pillow and threw up his arms, as he bad been wont to do when very weary, some consciousness of duty done and Christian hope throughout life humbly cherished, may have caused his own heart so to throb, when he passed away to his Redeemer's rest.
[No title]
Many other accounts have come to hand respecting this terrible catastrophe, all of which, though mostly written by Catholics, accuse the priests of having neg- lected then duty. From these we select the following disjointed additional items of interest: — Ever since the newly-invented mystery of the Immaculate Conception of Mary was declared at Rome, in 1857, the church of the Company, formerly belonging to the Jesuits, had b> come the focus of devotion of a vast sisterhood called the" Daughters of Mary," in which, on payment of so much a year, almost all the women of our capital were enrolled. .Every year, from the 8th of November to the 8th of December, the day of the Immaculate Conception, lasted a splendid festival in which orchestral music, singing, and an astonish- ing prodigality of incense, of lights of oil, liquid gas, wax, and every luminous combustiole in the world, glittered and flared in every part, in the cornices, in the ceiling, and particularly on the high altar. Every night the church blazed with a sea of (lame and fluttered with clouds of muslin and gauze draperies. It could only be lighted up in time by beginning in the middle of the afternoon, and the work of extinguishing was only ended when the night was far ad- vanced, In 1858 they thought of adopting hydrogen gas, but the engineer's plan, though convenient and safe, was rejected. On the 8th the devotees were exceedingly numerous although perhaps a great many ladies preferred going to the Alameda, or Avenue of Poplars, which is the grand pro- menade but, on the other hand, all the servant girls in town received permission to attend. The doors of the church opened at 6 o'clock or near that time), and the women took their places, each one scrambling, as usual, for the best, or that nearest the pulpit and principal altar. The church was capacious enough to contain, in my opinion, 3,000 women, packed as they are in these countries, sitting and kneeling on the floor on their own hand-carpets, which each lady carries with her, Besides those who conld accommodate themselves inside for which purpose many took their seat outside the church three hours before the doors were opened), nearly 500 wece left outside, sitting on the steps of the church near he doors, and j ust close enough to hear the music or catch a few stray words from the preacher. The servant hoys(or lamplighters; commenced lighting the lamps unfortunately they were not fed with oil, but with camphine, or, as it is called here, gas portatil. The prin- cipal image of the Virgin, in the centre of the altar, was supported by a fine half-moon or crescent of brilliant lamps, from which the fire began. The 3,000 inmates of the church ran to the doors. The building has three large doors in the front, but only one— tne centre one was available; the others were always cl >sed, and never made use of. The two side doors of the cnurch were also available, but were half-blocked by screens but the chicf number ran to the principal or front door. The fireadvanced, and nooutlet was to befound. Thedoors Were obstiucted. Some few passers by had given the alarm Many flocked to the Plazuela de la Compania, reached the aoors, and tried to pull the people out; hut it was impossi- ble it required the strength of a steam engine to move the compact mass of human beings locked together. Some wit i outstretched arms beckoned to those outside others im- plored assistance, calling the succourers by their names; others could hardly speak, and only signified their wishes by a motion of their heads or lips Some were suffocated with the weight of those above and around them; other were suf- focated 3th tlie flames and smoke. Those who ventured to rescue them had to he brought or pulled out by a dozen companions, more dead than alive. All was confusion and alarm, the bystanders tearing their hair an nu lling a»>out wild in the streets without being able to afford the I. a-t assistance. A man on horseback a country guaxo, threw his la so (or rope of hide, which thev always carry attached to the saddle) into the church and a thousand hands tried to catch hold of it. Somedid seize it and were dragged out by the man and the strength of the horse; but the second time the same attempt was made the laso gave way. a few moments afterwards the bystanders saw the women inside in flames. Their clothes had caught m-e the Are had reached their heads, and tffcir hair was on fire. A great flame came across the churcfte; the doors and other wooden parts took tire. The sufferers dropped down their heads and arms without a shriek, and all was silence Ihc church was a furnace, aboye IUld below-the root ai.4 the victims'underneath. Never was there such a spectacle, nor do I thint history can present a parallel. About a third of the congregation, it appears, managed to run out and escape, but the rest of the women fell upon each other at the very doors, and, instead of opening a passage to let others escape, formed a complete wedge, and the bodies remained locked together in rows one upon the other these masses hecoming every moment higher and more compact, and no one being able to extricate herself, as she was fastened or caught hold of by a dozen hands behind her. Although many heroic men performed prodigies of daring and strength in tearing some from the death-grasp of the phalanx of death that choked the door, in some cases literally tearing off their arms without being able to extricate them, the number of the saved by this means falls short of 50. More than 500 persons of our highest society have perished, the greater part young girls of 15 to 20 years. One mother has perished with her five daughters. Two-thirds of the victims were servants, and there are many houses in which not one has escaped. Several houses nave been noted by the police as empty because all its inhabitants have perished. The passage into the consumed church was not cleared until that impenetrable phalanx of precious, beautiful life was a handful of cinders. The catastrophe Is horrible— most cruel. At midnight we visited the smoking ruins of the fatal temple, so soon a silent charnel house, and by the light of the lantern every step showed to the appalled gaze fearful groups of carbonised corpses that preserved still the supplicating or despairing attitude of their frightful martyr- dom. Although there are events beyo-d the foresight of man, and beyond, also, his responsibility, we must admit that there has been the most culpable recklessness: relidon has amo]1g us been turned into an intoxicating mania According to the lists, the greater portion—say two-thirds, are servants and people of the humbler class; one-third at least belong to the principal families of Santiago. The con- sternation was so great, the blow so tremendous, and the spectacle so appalling, that this catastrophe passed at first like a dream. JSone of the living slept that night, nor could many sleep for successive nights after. There is hardly a family in Santiago that does not mourn the loss of some near relative. Two thousand victims sacrificed in a quarter of an hour, in a small enclosure GO yards by 30 The wife of Don Ricardo Oralle and five grown-up daughters, fine, handsome girls, were all burned. He died the next day from the shock of such a sudden and painful bereavement. A widow lady of the name of Santelice, her sons and daughters, and their servants, all perished, and no representative of the family left to open the house where they lived. Raze to the ground that fata temple, which, fortunately, is the property of the State, that its walls, twice in the space of 20 years blsickened with the smoke of calamities that have carried desolation and mourning throughout the nation, evoke not tothe passer hya horrible memory, to every family the ahade of a loved victim.
TIDDY PRATT.
TIDDY PRATT. (SONG FOR A FIUENDLY SOCIETY. ) TUNE—"Billy Taylor." Tiddy Pratt is a supreme Odd Fellow, And Forester as well as that, Drink, before you go to bed mellow, Health and wealth to Tiddy Pratt, Tiddy, iddy, &c. Self-created by a resolution, Which no authority can forbid, Yet we shouldn't have a legal constitution, If we hadn't the approval of our good friend Tidd. Tiddy, iddy, &c. Previous to incorporation There must be a scrutiny Of the scheme that asks formal ion, Under Tiddv's watchful eye. Tiddy, iddy, &c. To be licensed and permitted By the Government and State, We must be confirmed and fitted With Tiddy Pratt's certificate. Tiddy, iddy^&c. All our rules and laws inspected Duly must by Tiddy be, That the brotherhood projected Is a legal club, to see. Tiddy, iddy, &c. This is no unlawful meeting To assemble and carouse Drinking, noways les3 than eating, Is what Tiddy Pratt allows. Tiddy, iddy, &c. Tiddy Pratt can put no muzzle On our mouths againstgood cheer, Tiddy can't deny us guzzle, He can't stint us of our beer. Tiddy, iddy, &c. Never mind how much in liquor What we ought to save is spent; Tos-< your pots off all the quicker 'Tis what Tiddy can't prevent. Tiddy, iddy, See.
--._---._-INTERESTING LETTER…
INTERESTING LETTER FROM A QUEENSLAND EMIGRANT. The following letter has been handed to us for publication (sajs a London newspaper). It is from one of the batch of Cardsle emigrants who sailed in the shp Sunda, and is ad- drtJupd to tae falter r,f the writer, William Martin of Par- ham Beck. The names mentioned In the letter are those ol persons belonging to Carlisle :— Rosewood Camp, Nov. 14,1863. After a quick voyage of 74 days, we arrived at Bris- bane in good health, with the exception of Thomas, who, I am sorry to say. has been ill ever since we crossed the line, and still continues very ill. You would be surprised to see the effect the voyage has had upon Jessie. She is quite recovered from her illness and is as well as ever she was. I am pleased with Brisbane, which, although not yet approaching in appearance to an English town, wi l in a few years become so but there are of course many improvements to be made to the town, such as pavements, gas, &c. There are botanical gardens and a theatre is in course of erection. There is also a school of art. The River Brisbane runs between North (the principal part of the town) and South Brisbane. After reaching Brisbane, we were placed in the depot, where we remained ten days. It is a miser- able hole, but I believe Government intend to con- vert thi soldiers' ba^-wks into a depot, which it was originally built for. The place from which I date my letter is ten miles from Ipswich, the second town in the colony; and I am employed, together with T om and about 150 others, in forming a road from Ipswich to Toowoomba. We g^t ll. a week and ra- tions, which consist of salt beef, damper, and tea three times a day. We work ten hours a day, except on Saturdays, when we work eight hours. At pre- sent it is very hot, much hotter than the summer heat of England; and this is only the first month of summer here. The storms come on very suddenly, and stop as suddenly. We sleep in tents, eighteen or twenty in a tent. Jack was working here for three weeks, hut has left, and is now working in a garden with John Aitchin, at Il. a week, with rations, "wet and dry," I forgot to say above that Tom and I only get paid for dry," so that we generally lose a day in the week. J ames is at Oxley Creek, eight miles from Brisbane, with a butcher, at 6s. a week with rations; but as soon as we hear of a better place he will leave. Joe is in Brisbane, at a brickkiln. He has 3s. 6d. a week and his rations; his wages to be raised to 6s. after he had been there a month. Bill has no regular employment yet, but he has been doing odd jobs. 1 was landed two days before Bill Leach, and he was much surprised to see me in the depot. He lost five children at sea and one ashore. His tent and mine are close together at South Bris- bane. He, his father, and myself dined with James Templeton about a week after our arrival I called to see Frank Porter, but he was in the bush looking after his cattle, and I have not seen him since. We saw Captain Pitt, to whom Dean Close recommended us, and he said he would try and get employment for us, but I have heard nothing of him since. There are quantities of cockatoos, parrots of all colours, laughing jackasses, mutton birds (like magpies), small birds like wrens with long tails, flying foxes, flying squirrels, flying mice, flying opossums. There is a bird which has a note like the cuckoo, only that it sings at night instead of day. The insects are horrible-looking things. Snakes are plentiful; the black snake and the carpet snake are the largest. Some of the latter are fourteen or fifteen feet long. Then there are the whip snake and the adder, both of which are venomous. There are the wild dog and cat, but no other wild animals, except a. small kind of bear, kangaroo, and bandicot. We are encamped near a small river, which they call a creek here, and in which there are many fishes, and we now and then catch some. A railway is about being made from Ipswich to Toowoomba, and the Governor lays the first stone of the bridge on New Year's Day. The carriage of goods up the country is done by bullock drags, a train of which count from ten to thirty bullocks, according to the load. Ten miles a day for a train is considered good work, so you can imagine better than I can describe the state of the roads. In fact they are only tracks, except the road from Bris- bane to Ipswich, twenty-five miles, which is the best in the colony. Steamers plybetweentho two towns daily, a distance of about fifty miles. There are also two mail coaches running between the two places daily, a ride which jolts and shakes one to pieces. They consist of four pianks set on wheels, no cushions, and narrow seats. The natives are not numerous here, and now being the sheep-washing and shearing season, we scarcely see any. They are slightly made, and re- semble the negroes in feature. They live in tribes, and subsist on the opossum, kangaroo, rats, snakes, any- thing in fact. They are fond of rum and tobacco. If you know any one coming out here, I should re- commend them not to bring much clothing, as they can get it as cheap here, and suitable to the climate. They should bring some baking soda-a good supply, it is very useful on the voyage. By the last mail I sent you a newspaper, with an account of our passage, which 1 hope will reach you safely. I should have written by last mail, but I was anxious to get to work. Willie is for going every day to see Joseph Rowell and Sinclair, and his grandfather and grandmother. I must now say good-bye, and, hoping you are all well, I remain, yours affectionately, JOHN MARTIN.
A STRANGE PROBATE CASE.
A STRANGE PROBATE CASE. In the Court of Probate, in London, the cause of "Fuller v. Gurney and others" has been heard, and was a suit instituted to try the validity of a will alleged to have been executed by a Mr. John Fuller, a surgical machinist, who died in the March of 1863 at his residence, 239, Whitechapel-road, London, leaving property, real and personal, to the amount of 2.700J. :— It appeared that the deceased bequeathed his property subject to annuities to his three sisters, to the Victoria Hospital for Consumption; but the defendants, who propounded the will, were trustees to that institution. The plaintiff, who disputed the instrument on the ground of incapacity, was the only child of the testator, and having married a woman named Elizabeth Parker, his senior in years, and a servant, he displeased his father, who disinherited him, but made a provision to the effect that if the plaintiff survived his wife he was to have a reversionary interest in the property left to his three sisters at their decease. Mr. O'Mallry stated the plaintiff's case. He said that the plaintiff was a man of very penurious habits, and died in a lunatic asylum, where he enttred in consequence of his parsimonious feelings, in order that he might save the amount of his support. The learned council then read the will, in which the testator assigned, as a reason for the disposition of his property, according to the instrument sub judice, that his son had been inveigled into an improper marriage by a designing woman, who he was determined should derive no benefit from his estate. Mr. Henry M'Kenzie, a gentleman of some property, said that he attested the will with his brother. The deceased was certainly eccentric in his conduct, being unclean in his habits, and sometimes dressing him- self as a Turk without the turban. He was also fond of eating largely at the expense of other persons, and used to put crusts of bread into a bag, which he carried awav with him. His conduct was of a de8cription that rendered him unfit for respectable female society. However, he considered that the tes- tator was quite competent to make the will atthe time when it was executed. Mr. George M'Kenzie, a brother of the witness, gave corroborative evidence. Miss Jane Fuller, sister of the testator, was next ex- amined, and deposed to the testamentary capacity of her brother, but she stated that he was of a very miserly character. She denied that her brother was dirty in his habits at the time of making the will in question. Miss Frances Fuller, another sister of the testator, gave similar evidence to her brother's capacity. She deposed most positively that at the time of the will the testator was in full possession of his faculties. He was a. man of literary taste, and was in the habit of speaking intelligently with respect to the works he had read. She had never seen the testator in what she considered inappropriate costume. Mr. Cole, for the plaintiff, cross-examined the witness at some length, and elicited that the testator allowed his son to go without good clothing. She had seen the testator eating mouldy bread. He was without a servant for some time, but he stated that he did not re- tain a domestic owing to the difficulty of getting a good one, and not from any penurious feeling. She saw nothing in the conduct of the testator to induce a belief that he was not of sound mind. Several other witnesses were called to prove the capacity of the testator, which closed the case £ or the defendants in support of the will. Dr. Spinks opened the case for the other side, and at the conclusion of his address, Sir J. P. Wiide suggested that an arrangement might be effected between the litigants, which would render any further contention unnecessary, and prevent the property of the deceased being wasted. Mr.O'Malley expressed his entire concurrence in the propriety of the kind suggestion thrown out by the learned judge, and said that he had no doubt his clients would accede to it. After a consultation between counsel, the parties in the cause consented to an arrangement, and the court pronounced in favour of the will
CAREER OF A WONDERFUL MAN.
CAREER OF A WONDERFUL MAN. The following account of a man of whom we have heard but occasionally, yet who is a very extraordinary man, is taken from the correspondence of the Times Burgevine has at length left China, under pressure from the American Consul. Having become .0 noto- rious as a partisan of the rebels, every movement made in their favour by foreigners was naturally traced to his instigation. Rightly or wrongly, the seizure of the Firefly was said to have been planned and executed under his direction his arrest by the Chinese on board the Feiloong, which they asserted he was actually endeavouring to carry off when taken, followed im- mediately, and increased the already prevalent sus- picion that he intended to rejoin the rebel cause. The fact of his being allowed to remain at large was exciting much ill-feeling in the minds of the Chinese, who, being themselves firmly convinced of his hostile intentions, looked on the apathy of the foreign authorities as little short of connivance at his mis- deeds. The United States Consul accordingly desirtd Burgevine to leave China, but he at first flatly refused, denying the power of the Consul to interfere, and ex- pressing his willingness to undergo a trial rather than obey. On this he was arrested and confined in the consular gaol until he could be impeached for misde- meanour but after a week's imprisonment, he con- sented to leave, and took his departure for Yokohama last week in the Aden. In whatever light Burgevine's conduct may be viewed by different judges, no one can deny a meed of pity at the close of a singularly chequered and some- what remarkable career. Three years ago he arrived in Shanghai as second mate of an American ship, and shortly afterwards joined Ward, when the latter col- lected a band of Manilla men for the purpose of at- tacking Soonking. The attack was successful, and the Imperialist mandarins gave a large reward, which Ward, according to his custom, appropriated. The band was increased, and Tsing-poo was attempted; but the surprise failed, and the attacking party nar- rowly escaped destruction. When the foreign autho- rities interfered and refused to permit a body of foreigners to join either side in the contest, andW ard was obliged to disband his corps, Burgevine was the first to suggest the enrolment of a body of disciplined Chinese. 1 he experiment was made and succeeded, was looked on favourably by the foreign authorities, and prospered. The career of this force was one of unchecked un- success until Ward's death in September, 1862, at the success until Ward's death in September, 1862, at the siege of Tse-kee. Burgevine, who had only partially re- covered from a severe wound received at the siege of Tsing-poo, succeeded him in command of the Soonking force, as it was now called, and planned the expedi- tion to Nanking which, though no fault of his, resulted in his disgrace and dismissal. During the three months of his command he had raised the force, from a small number of men in a state of inferior discipline, to 5,000 men, well armed and equipped, and provided with every requisite munition of war. In two months, under command of Captain Holland, it had fallen to 3,000, and had experienced its first disgraceful reverse before Tai-tsan. In the meantime, Burgevine had twice been to Pekin to endeavour to get reinstated. The first time he obtained fair words and promises, which his return to Shanghai proved empty phrases. On his fecond visit he was arrested and threatened with death, released eventually at the instance of the foreign ministers, and sent back to Shanghai. His whole thoughts now were bent on attaching him- self to the rebels, and negotiations were opened which promised to be most satisfactory. It was arranged Burgevine should take command of a force of Chinese to be equipped and drilled after the European method under his orders. Officers were sent to Soochow for the purpose, and in July Burgevine himself followed, capturing the Kiao-chiao en route and carrying her with him as an earnest of success. At first everything was couleur de rose; Burgevine went to Nanking, had an interview with Chung Wang, and was made a prince and second in command of the rebel forces. Money was advanced and sent to Shanghai for the purchase of arms, and the drill of the troops progressed. But difficulties supervened. The arms failed to arrive at the time they were ex- pected. The rebel chiefs, not appreciating the diffi- culties which attended the transit, in avoiding Im- perialist cruisers, became suspicious, and refused to pay the foreigners their wages until the money ad- vanced had been accounted for. The latter, in their turn, became discontented. Burgevine's old wound broke out again through over-exertion and lack of medical attendance. He had resort to stimulants to deaden the excruciating pain, and indulged sometimes to excess. The result is known. Negotiations were entered into with Gordon, which resulted in the secession of the whole foreign contingent from Soochow, and now Burgevine has grne to Japan, broken in mind and body, ?oorer than when lie first landed in China, a victim of mperialist suspicion and ingratitude. He was in- debted to his friends for money to pay his passage, and yet the local Government qwes him more than 8,000 £ which it absolutely refuses to pay. Whether it should be allowed thus to repudiate its obligations towards a man who, in conjunction with Ward, was of infinite service in protecting Shanghai when the foreign troops here were few, is a question for the foreign authorities to decide.
——— RAILWAY COMPENSATIONS.…
—— — RAILWAY COMPENSATIONS. The subject of "Railway Compensation" being at the present day one of interest to all classes, whether traveller or railway shareholder, we believe the following extracts from the Daily News will bear reprinting In the year 1862, the railway companies of the United Kingdom paid as compensation for personal injury a sum of 158,169?. This amounts to a pro- portion of I'll per cent. upon their total working expenditure. The amount is not considerable in itself, although it was much swollen by payments made in 1862 to the sufferers by the memorable accident in the Winchbury Tunnel, on the Edinburgh and Glasgow line. Considering the comfort and relief which these payments may have afforded in many cases to sufferers by accidents and to their families, the appropriation of a sum of 150,0001. out of the thirty millions sterling annually received by railway companies, is scarcely to be begrudged. That the total is not very much larger is attributable to the safety of the railway system. 180,000,000 of passengers were conveyed on our rail- ways in 1862. So that the whole amount of com- pensation for accidents is not on the average one farthing per head per passenger. It is this comparative immunity from accident, and the consequently trivial total of the compensation, which prevents some sort of protest being entered against the system under which these compensations are awarded; for in many respects the system is a very bad one.
UNEQUAL COMPENSATIONS.
UNEQUAL COMPENSATIONS. To th^'ove we add the following anecdotes from the same source ic.ating to the. act of Parliament on which compensa- tions are made, showing how it calls for alteration In addition to creating a new and unfairly adjusted liability, it cannot be doubted that Lord Campbell's act operates unequally in its application to different classes of society. The largest damages ever yet given were awarded in the,_pase of Mr. Pym, killed in an accident on the Great Northern Railway. It was moved to set aside these damages as excessive. But they were upheld by the Court of Queen's Bench, on the ground that the possible loss of the benefit of a superior education and the enjoyments of greater comforts and conveniences of life was a pecuniary loss, for which an action might be maintained." Mrs. Pym and her. family, who were connected with very wealthy landowners in Bedfordshire, quite able to support and maintain them. received ^nder this decision some 12,000?. or 13,0001. compensation for Mr. Pym's death. Let us contrast this with what occurred in another case. Lord Campbell, perhaps, would have urged that if there was a case in which his act would be valuable, it would be the case of a professional man, not connected with the landed proprietary and the aristocracy, whose life might be sacrificed by a railway accident. Well, a few years ago, Dr. Baly, of Queen Anne-street, was killed on the South Western Railway by the only accident which ever caused the death of a passenger on that line. Dr. Baly was a physician just rising into great eminence. He was a man of great talent. He had been obscure; he was emerging from obscurity by the force of his own ability. As a Lon- don physician he had an establishment to maintain- a large house, servants, carriages, and horses. All this had been paid for out of income. He had not felt himself rich enough to marry the less so because he had two sisters to support. He was a prudent man. At the very tern of his life he met his fate by this un- happy accident. How did Lord Campbell's act operate in his case? It had given 12,000?. to Mrs. Pym, the widow of a landed proprietor; but in the case of Dr. Baly, a prudent professional man, it gave nothing. "How was this?" it will be asked. Because Lord Campbell's act limited the claim to wife, husband, parent, and child, including grandfather and grandmother, stepfather and stepmother, grandson and granddaughter, and stepson an i stepdaughter none of which were left by Dr. Baly. He had two sisters" dependent upon him; but Lord Campbell did not recognise dependent sisters.
A DRAMATIC READING IN PARIS.
A DRAMATIC READING IN PARIS. A fashion is growing in Paris, where a successful play is a fortune to an author, of giving readings in the salon of any good-natured lady from the rejected plays of needy authors. A correspondent of thfc Morning Starthas been present at one, and from his account we select the following :— On the faith of a kind invitation" and the assur- ance of some of my confreres of the press, I went to hear an author, then as now, kno wn but to his.friends, read a drama in a salon where one might have reason- ably expected a delightful evening. The play in ques- tion had been refused by one of the principal theatres, and about thirty persons were brought together to condemn in fitting terms the want of taste, judgment, poetry, patriotism, and indeed religion, of those who damned it, for it was a play of the Racine tone of piety. As the invitations requested the invited to assemble at half-past eight precisely," they came somewhat earlier-a great stretch of benevolence in Paris. It was a curious assembly. There were a good many persons ambitious of literary renown whose kid gloves and white cravats had seen good servfee since they last came out of the teinturier's and washerwoman's hands. Nerves, coffee, and tobacco bad worn away any covering of flesh that had ever clothed their bones like Samson, their whole strength seemed, when their crowns were not as bare as monks, to have gone into their hair and beards, the last of which some habitually twisted in their fingers. Every one of them. except a man who was very like Colonel Bones in "The Man Made of Money," posed and looked as though a photographic apparatus were pointed at him. The ladies were made up of finely-dressed, comfort- able-dressed, and shabby-genteel women, and some neat, self-contained, and very uninteresting young girls. They were all inclined to drop curtseys, break out into approving smiles of the galvanic sort, on the slightest provocation; and many looked with the eye of a detective officer at the laces and complexions of their neighbours. A general chat, brisker than one often now-a-days hears in a Paris salon, was kept up till the entrance of a tall elderly gentleman with a port- folio under his arm. Being deeply impressed with a sense of his own dignity, this author hardly condescended to be amiable. He shook hands, or rather fingers, with the hostess; and she had hardly time to give the signal for the reading ere he was ensconced behind a table, had emptied the portfolio, and mixed and drunk a tumbler of eau sucree. The rest of the company rushed to the. seats which were ranged around the room and, when silence was obtained, the developments" of the drama commenced, and the dramatic author at some length explained the plot and moral of his drama, and the mise en scene he would have desired had some theatre accepted it.
-----'i MR. BRIGHT'S EXPERIENCE…
MR. BRIGHT'S EXPERIENCE ON PATENTS. 'I Last week, at the half-yearly meeting of the Chamber of Commerce for Birmingham and the Midland District, Mr. Bright, the vice-president, in the course of a long speechj gave utterance to the following ideas on the subject of patents, a subject which is interesting to persons in all trades, whether masters or workmen :— I understand that at Liverpool there are some in. fluential persons who think that patents ought to be altogether abolished, and that inventors should be remunerated out of a fund to be awarded to them in some way by the Government, and that, if possible, it would be desirable to have an international fund pro- vided by the various countries of Europe and by America, out of which they should receive a fitting com- pensation. On the face of it, this proposition looks extremely reasonable, but I believe th^t its carrying out would be impracticable, and that it would be im- possible to make any equal adjudication, because it is often many years before anybody can tell whether a patent has really been valuable, and whether the public have gained much from it or not. I am not very much alarmed at the prospect of the total aboli- tion of patents, and I am not sure, after my experience, which, I am sorry to say, has been considerable, that the public would lose anything by the abolition and, looking at all that is won and lost by inventions among inventors, I am not certain that the inventors would be the losers if there were no patents at all I believe that not one in twenty of them makes his ex- penses, and that a good many out of the twenty are nearly ruined. There is nothing to prevent the pro- duction of useful inventions the fame attaching to them would be quite a sufficient stimulus with many men to exeTt their talents in that direction; but, leaving that point, there is the question of the existing law, and no man can have paid attention to the pre- sent law, or rather no law. because, in point of fact. there is no law-no man can have examined that law without feeling that there is ample room for extensive alteration and amendment. In my opinion, patents are granted in many eases for very insignificant things, and they are nothing but a nuisance to the trade with which they are connected. Frequently the improve- ments are so trifling, almost so childish, that it is quite absurd to give a man a monopoly which may be the cause of harassing every extensive manufacturing operation. To my mind it "would be a great improve- ment if there were some previous examination of in- vention- for the purpose of ascertaining whether the invention i3 worth a patent, and if it is not, the patent ought to be refused. In addition to the draw- ings that are necessary, an exact model of the inven- tion ought to be furnished, so that you might ascer- tain the exact invention for which the patent was granted. I believe that the plan of models has been adopted in the United States. I do not know much of their law generally, but I believe that to be the case. I think the present system of drawing specifica- tions to be a system of fraud to a very large extent. A man attempts to conceal his invention rather than to explain it, and the wording is so vague, that when a conflict arises with some one who he supposes has in- fringed his patent, he dare not tell you what he claims, and his counsel will fight for days to avoid telling you what the inventor claims and what he has invented, and if it is said, This is old," he says, "I do not claim that, that is not in my specification but if you. have not proved it to be old, he will say, "That is exactly what I do claim." You are placed in a maze of difficulties, and may go on litigating for years, and it is difficult to say whether you are more near ruin when you have lost than when you have gained your cause. The present law is, in my opinion, so scandalous, that it would be better to have none at all. There are multitudes of cases which it is impossible to try in our ordinary courts of justice, and if men could only put aside their wish to conquer, they would find it much easier to toss up for the purpose of ascertaining whether the patent is good, or whether the alleged infringement is an in- fringement or not. In 99 cases out of every 100 the decision would be as just as if a long litigation had taken place, and more money would be saved by avoid- ing the costs than the whole patent is worth. I have been and am now the victim of this law. Oliver Crom well, when describing the state of the law in his time. said that it was a "tortuous, ungodly jungle;" and I may say with regard to our patent law that it is a dis- grace to any civilised country.
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In the cause of "Foxwell v. Bostock," tried before the Lord Chancellor on the same day as Mr. Bright's speech was given, the following clause was put in in evidence, and as it is of interest, we attach it to the above The plaintiff in November brought an action in the Court of Common Pleas against Wm. Frederick Thomas, for alleged infringement of the patent, which was compromised by Thomas paying to Fox- well 4,250?. and receiving licence to sell Judkins's sewing machines. The compromise was accepted on the l!)th of June, 1863, and in the month of July the plaintiff, by his solicitor, wrote to all persons making or using a needle and shuttle sewing machine, and de- manded a royalty of 51, for every machine. In this letter was set out the verdict of the Comijaon Pleas, and in the course of the long vacation he filed bills to the extent of 146 against different persons for alleged infringement. It appeared that the persons included within the range of these bills were of three classes they were tailors or shoemakers, who made use of machines, manufacturers who made machines, and the patentees of sewing machines, and the extent of the litigation which was likely to arise may appear from the fact that over 160,000 machines had been admitted to be sold by one patentee, on each of which the plain- tiff would have received a royalty of 51. [equal to 800,000?.!] # It was also stated that many of the poor tradesmen in the country towns who used machines paid the royalty, and thus delivered themselves of the terrors of the Court of Chancery.
THE FOOD FOR POWDER!
THE FOOD FOR POWDER! The Prussian regiments are composed of healthy, sturdy-looking men, and excite general admiration (writes a correspondent). They are somewhat short, but seem to possess that weight and muscle for which English soldiers have become justly renowned. I think I have never seen troops in such blooming condition. Their arms, defensive and offensive, are remarkably good, but perhaps too cumbersome. The foot soldiers even have heavy helmets, which give them a martial appearance, but must be particularly oppres- sive and the whole Prussian army is provided with the famous needle-gun, the qualities of which will now probably be put to the test for the first time on a large scale. It has hitherto only been tried with skirmisher ■>, and found to be very effective, as it is loaded from behind, and six shots can be fired in a minute while the men are lying flat on the ground. It is an interest- ing but horrible experiment, which will be shortly made, to see what destruction will be caused by such an instrument in the hands of thousands of pretty good marksmen. The Austrian troops seem also thoroughly good soldiers, but in general look less stalwart than the Prussians. Their cavalry appears to be composed of remarkably, small men. Both the Prussian and Austrian officers are in remarkably good trim. When one looks at the physical superiority everywhere visible in all these German troops, it is difficult to account for their defeats by the French— except in the fact that there is a want of that da-hand fierceness which sparkle in the eye of almost every French soldier. For years, it is well known, there has been the greatest jealousy and antipathy between the Austrian and Prussian officers, and it is, therefore, amueing now to see them brought together as friends by the force of circumstances, and obliged to make a show of cordiality. I was present on one occasion when a party of Austrians and Prussians met, and could not help observing that their eager cordiality was forced. Whether the jealousy, which has existed for years, will, in spite of all efforts, lead to difficulty in the end, is a great question. Such a thing would give the Danes no slight advantage.
BLESSING A RIVER IN RUSSIA;
BLESSING A RIVER IN RUSSIA; From the correspondence of the London Standard we take the following account of the ceremony adopted at the blessing of the River Neva, which takes place yearly at St. Petersburg on the 18th Jan. The festival of the 6th of January (0. S.), which is held in commemoration of the baptism of our Saviour, was celebrated with the usual splendour on Monday last. Contrary to the popular notion in Russia that this must be one of the coldest days in the year, the weather turned out to be very mild, and an immense crowd was attracted, which occupied every available spot from which a glimpse of the Temple of the Jordan or of the procession could possibly be obtained. All the high dignitaries of the empire, the military chiefs, and the civil employes of the first four classes, assembled in the state rooms of the Winter Palace, and when the Emperor of Russia left his private apartments, they all proceeded with his Majesty to the church within the Palace. After the conclusion of Divine service, all the Greek clergy of St. Peters- burg, who are assembled on this occasion, left the palace in solemn procession bearing lighted tapers, the choristers chanting; the Emperor, the Grand Duke, and all the suite following on horseback. Starting from the great gate on the north side of the palace, the procession passed round to the south side, where the temple was erected on the Neva, op- posite the palace. On the spot selected for the bene- diction of the waters, a hole ha.d been, cut the iM, and over this a temple, open on all sides, had been erected to be used as a temporary chapel. It is built of wood expressly for this occasion, and removed im- mediately after the ceremony. On reaching the temple, the Emperor and his suite alighted, prayers were recited by the Metropolitan, the sign of the cross was made over the opening in the ice, the cruci- fix was immersed three times, and the benediction of the waters was saluted with 101 guns. This was a very impressive moment. Masses of troops were drawn up on the immense spaces on the north and east sides of the palace, and along the quay on the south side, and when the first gun was fired, every soldier took off" his helmet and made the sign of the cross, and every manin thecrowd uncovered and did the same. The Emperor then approached the Metropolitan, kissed the crucifix, and his example was followed by all those who were in the temple the flags of all the regiments assembled on the occasion received the benediction of the reverend dignitarv, and then the Emperor re- mounted his horse, and, followed by his brilliant suite, rode round to the north side of the palace, and, stand- ing nearly opposite the column erected t,) the memory of the Emperor Alexander I., passed all the troops in review, and thus concluded the ceremony. On this occasion there were no ladies present, as the Empress is still unequal to the fatigue of the reception which usually takes place after the ceremony but the ladies of the diplomatic corps assembled in tho concert hall, where they had a good view of the ceremony in the Neva.
[No title]
The same letter gives, further, the following account of the. superstitions of the Russians, and of the evil spirits against which the water of the Neva is a specific:- The extraordinary virtues attributed to the water sanctified on this day may be taken as a sign of the superstition which is still very prevalent among the lower orders of this country. In almost every village in the interior there exists a firm belief in evil spirits, whose attributes are well known to the peasants, who can name the demons and recount their acts as if they had seen them themselves. Laishi, the wood-demon, assumes any form he pleases when in the forest he is a tall pine when in the meadow a blade of grass; when walking in the woods, if you fancy you hear the cry of the screech-owl, the honest labourer will tell you you are mistaken, it is the shriek of Laishi. If the peasant loses his way, it is because he cannot cross the spot where Laishi has been, but he will always wander in a circle till the charm is broken. lloussalki, the water-demon, is an object of peculiar dread. This spirit takes the form of a beautiful girl with green hair, which she is always combing. Woe betide those who approach her, for she invariably tickles them to death. But the Domovoi, or the house-demon, is in every dwelling. This is a mischievous spirit, sometimes malicious, but not always spiteful, for he often plaJs tricks only for the fun of the thing. In fact, he is very much like our old friend Puck. But his power is great, and, of course, considerable pains are taken to keep in his good graces. He must not be called bad names, so he is dignified .by the title of Hozain, host, or master of the house. The domestic animals are always supposed to be under his influence, and thrive or not, according to his will. If you have an attack of nightmare, do not suppose it proceeds from in- digestion it is the Domovoi sitting on your chest. Directly you feel his weight, ask him whether his visit is for good or evil, and you may be sure that it will be followed by good or bad fortune, according to the demon's answer. It is as a preservative against the evil influence of these spirits that the water blessed on the day of the baptism is highly valued. Immediately after the ceremony, hundreds of people rush to the hole in the ice; a tremendous struggle ensues to fill jugs, bottles, kettles, saucepans -any vessel that can be got hold of -and the precious fluid is treasured up, sometimes for months, as a valuable remedy in case of sickness. In many houses Greek priests are engaged to perform the ceremony of purification with this water, every room beingsprinkled, and particularly all thoentrances by which the evil spirit might make his way. The time from Christmas till Twelfth day is called Sviatki [holy days], during which it has always been the custom for the people to amuse themselves by mas- querading. J.n the villages the standing amusement is for one of the men to turn his sheepskin inside out, and making himself look as much like a bear as possible, to be led about by a companion, and play practical jokes on the villagers. Another will fasten straw all over his body, and go about like a walking slleaf. Very innocent amusement, one would think; but. it is considered sinful in Russia still they indulge in it, for they know that the 6th of January is the day of purification, and some of them, to be quite sure of absolution, have been known to plunge bodily into the water, even in a very severe frost.
ATTEMPTED FRAUD ON UNDERWRITERS.
ATTEMPTED FRAUD ON UNDER- WRITERS. Captain Johann Matthias Olbers, a German, late master and owner of the Peruvian barque Maria, has been convicted at the Hamburg Supreme Court upon the charge of having attempted to defraud the underwriters of the sum of 13,000i. under the following circumstances In 1862 the Maria went from Cardiff to Bahia with coals, arriving at the latter place on the 7th of Sep- tember. She was chartered for a voyage to London, and, while the cargo was being shipped, the crew, for some unaccountable reason, were allowed three days' living ashore. A large quantity of cargo was stated to have been put on board, and the ship, freight, and cargo were insured in London and other places. In the course of the voyage from Bahia the name of the ship was painted over, and on the 18th of December, when she was reported to have sprung a leak, supposed to be in the captain's cabin, he refused the crew an opportunity to search for it. On the following day the water had risen ten feet, and the captain gave orders to abandon the ship. The boats were lowered, and the captain in going over the ship's side let fall into the sea a packet of papers. In the protest he declared the parcel to contain two boxes of diamonds, of the value of 3,90M., for which amount insurances were effected in the Royal Exchange and other offices. One boat con- taining the mate and five seamen was picked up and taken into St. Michael's, and the other boat drifted about several days before it was fallen in with. In- quiries were instituted, and the result tended to show that the ship had been wilfully scuttled, and that there were no such diamonds and other property on board as alleged. The facts also implicated the shippers at Bahia. After a protracted trial, the Court convicted the prisoner of issuing false bills of lading, and of attempt- ing a fraud on the underwriters. He was condemned to three years' imprisonment, and then to be banished from the country.
LIFE IN NEW YORK.
LIFE IN NEW YORK. It is no news' that the articles termed America in the Midst of War," published in the Daily Telegraph, are the production of Mr. G. A. Sala, who is in New York. This correspondence has attracted some attention in England, because of Mr. Sala's well-known powers of photographing scenes from life. On this account then, we need not apolo- gise for extracting the following on hospitality, low-life, and policemen, from a late letter of his :— reduce one of those magic envelopes containing a note of introduction, and the case is at once altered. The open sesame seldom fails. The bullet rarely misses the billet. Once let the Americans really know who and what you are, and they will welcome you with open arms. Their houses, their horses, their carriages, their servants, are all at your disposal, not metaphorically, as the Spaniards offer them, but actually and entirely. They will dine you, they will breakfast you, they will sup you, and when there is nothing legitimate in the way of eating and drinkiDg going o i, they will press you to have oysters. They will give you, if you allow them, a,great deal more champagne, Madeira, Scotch ale, and Bourbon whisky than is good for you. If you say you are a teetotaller, they will send you a dozen of Congress water or effervescing sarsaparilla. If you confess yourself a smoker, they will cram your pockets with Cabanas, or send you a box of Imperiales almost as long and as strong as pokers. Admire an American author, and you will find his works, handsomely bound, on your table, when you return home. I happened to mention the other day that, intending to look in at the Havana on my way to New Orleans, I thought I might as well get up a little Spanish. Forthwith a copy of Ollendorf's Spanish grammar was sent me. They will insist on paying your hackney coach, your omnibus, and ferry faj-e and I positively believe that, were I mean enough to ask, I could find a dozen friends who would pay my hotel bill. That which they do to strangers the Americans are not slow to do among themselves. A gentleman of mature years in- formed me lately that his uncle had sent him a thousand dollars as a new year's gift. HOSPITALITY OF NEW YORKERS. They are always making presents. Any person of good means, with a house of his own, is sure to have from six to a dozen nephews, nieces, and cousins stay- ing with him for months at a time. I never knew such a people for having cousins, particularly female, and pretty, Ten to one, also, but you Will find an adopted child in every other family. When an Ame- rican fails in business—and mcst of them fail at some time or other-he is sure, if he be at all a decent kind of man, to find friends who will not only loan," but give him money to start afresh. And, pray let me add, that it would be doing a cruel and shameful wrong to this people, to assume that their hospitality towards the strangers within their gates is dictated by a vulgar spirit of ostentation. That there are vulga- rians, and "stuck-up," and ostentatious folks in the Union is clear enough but their great heart in re- spect to the sacred duty of hospitality is sound and in the performance of that duty they beat the Eng- lish, and the Irish, and the Russians- which is saying a great deal. THE CUNNING AMERICANS AS SIMPLE AS CHILDREN In France, you know, you get little but sugar and water out of your friends, in Germany nothing but smoke, and in Italy there are some grand houses where you can only obtain supper by paying for it. In Spain you can procure nothing to eat, because, be- yond eggs and chocolate, and garlic, there is nothing to eat. But in the United States you may ruin your digestive organs for nothing in a fortnight. If the oysters and the canvas-back ducks don't give you dyspepsia, the eternal icecreams and candied sweet- meats will; and, when you fall sick, you will find plenty of kind friends to press Hochstetter's and Drake's Plantation Bitte.s as curatives on your ac- ceptance. All this is done in sheer, bounteous gene- rosity and kindness of. heart. Not a vapid tourist lands in New York—with letters always be it under- stood-not a guardsman runs down from Canada, not a gunroom mess of a man-of-war comes into port, but the floodgates of American hospitality are opened. With all their real shrewdness and imputed cunning, the Americans are in many respects as frank, as sim- ple, and as innocent as children. LOW LIFE IN NEW YORK. For the first time since my arrival here I was to see life—the low life, the criminal life—the ragged, desti- tute, desperate Bohemian life of which I have seen in my time a fair amount in different countries. I have been so very respectable since my coming to New York, I have been in such very good society, that I have seen nothing as yet of the thieves and the beggars and the blackguards. The good folks in England must have begun to grumble at my reticence. It may have been asked why I have not yet come out in my proper colours why I have written no brokers' inventories of the furniture of bars and the trappings of lager- beer saloons why I have failed to photograph the rowdy, and given no "fast" description of the Bowery and the Five Points. All in good time. THE STREET-BOY OF NEW YORK. The street-boy, as Mr. Leech has so admirably de- picted him-not only the ragged, shoeless vagabond who turns cart-wheels in the mud for a halfpenny, and picks your pocket under pretence of selling you vesu- vians; but the shop-boy, the errand-boy, the doctor's- boy, the vivacious, agile, mischievous, musical, sar- castic young scoundrel, whose antics and whose gibes drive nervous people and s'eady policemen to despera- tion -does not exist in New York. You see no young villains playing leap-frog over the posts, or fly-the. garter in the gutter. The horrible game of "cat" is unknown; the pavement is never chalked with the unholy diagrams of hopscotch; a negro melody is some- times whistled by a passing juvenile, but I have never heard the bones rattled by youthful hands. I have never been chaffed, never been pelted, by boys in America. If you listen to the conversation of two boys in the street, their talk is in almost every instance about dollars, and they consequently cease to be street boys. The newsboys form, it is true, a class apart, and a very curious race they are but they are as intent on their business during business hours as Wall- street brokers, and after office hours they smoke or gamble in haunts apart. KNOWING A POLICEMAN BY THE SMELL We were introduced first to a very courteous aide- de-camp to General Dix, and then to the escort. The last was a host in himself. He was over six feet high. He was bony, brawny, and erect; and he had, perhaps, about the hardest-looking beard, the most adamantine countenance, and the steadiest eye I ever beheld. The escort was a captain of police-a rank corresponding with that of inspector with us. He had a plain great coat, buttoned up to his chin, over his uniform, and an o Iskin cover drawn over his cap but had he worn a smockfrock, or a doctor of divinity's cassock, he would not the less have looked, from top to toe, wholly and unmistakably Scotland-yard grafted on Rue de Jeru- salem. He remarked at first, in a dry, off-hand manner, when I asked him whether he was generally recognised by those he visited, that he was sometimes "taken for a naval man but later in the night he grew more confidential, and pointing to some of the poor painted creatures we saw at a dance-house, and who were eyeing him wistfully, whispered, Bless you, they've been so often through our hands, that they know a police-officer by the very smell." THE POLICEMAN A TRANSFORMED IRISHMAN. The New York policeman is seldom under, five feet nine, and often exceeds six feet in height. He is ge- nerally a muscular, broad-chested fellow, with a bu-hy beard and moustaches. He is frequently an Irishman, but advantageously Americanised. He has had in faction fights and street rows to crack so many of his countrymen's skulls, that he has grown at last to en- tertain a due appreciation of the advantages of law and order and Patrick who is in the police keeps a very tight hand over Paddy who i-n't. And,4.bis is often the way with Paddy. Discipline him, aLl he becomes as formidable as a Roman legionary; let i.iin run loose, and he sinks below a man. THE POLICEMAN'S DRESS. The New York policeman wears a hindsome uni- form, a long double-breasted surtout with gilt buttons, a badge, chain, and whistle on one breast, and a high- crowned forage cap. At his side hangs a club or blud- geon, much longer and heavier, I should think, than our truncheon. He springs no rattle for assistance, but when hard-pressed, raps for help. In addition, he is always armed with a revolver. His entire equip- ment and appearance are a hundred time] more taste- ful and shipshape than our absurd, single-breasted, swallow-tail garb, leathern belt, and heavy oilskin- topped stovepipe. Only about his neck signs are visible that the New York policemen lives in a free country, subject to the constitution of the United States. No choking leathern stock confines his jugular. He wears the turn-down collar of civil life very often encircled by a smart scarf, and fastened with a natty pin for, mind you, he is a citizen. He has his vote, reads his newspaper, attends his convention, and is very fre- quently a keen and ardent politician. f A POLICEMAN MAY BECOME A PRESIDENT! 'j The New York policeman is, .finally, a person who I respects himself and his standing, in society. As I l have said, he votes, and is. very likely a member of some political body. There is nothing to prevent him d becoming President of the United States. The man who f has broken heads is quite as eligible for the chief magis- .T» tracy as the man who has split rails. He is no mere i day labourer in uniform as our policeman Is. His salary is a handsome one. He receives eight hundred 1 dollars a year—one hundred and sixty pounds sterling I a very liberal income when contrasted with the eighteen and twenty-one shillings a week paid to our police. ccnstables but, as out of this he has to pay for his uni- form, and as the value of the dollar has been depreciated from thirty to forty per cent, since the advent of Mr, Chase's paper millennium, and the prices of all the u necessaries of life have risen with frightful rapidity,— V the New York policeman is beginning to complain that he cannot live on his pay, and is agitating for its in- crease to a thousand dollar3, or two hundred pounds a year.
I THE DOGS' HOME.
THE DOGS' HOME. A writer in All the Year Round has this week given a very amusing account of his adventures in search of a lost dog, from which we take the following relative to a Home for THE DOGS' HOME. A writer in All the Year Round has this week given a very amusing account of his adventures in search of a lost dog, from which we take the following relative to a Home for lost dogs which exists in London, and in which he sought his favourite, but found him not. The account is not the leaBt exaggerated, as may be seen:— On being landed from the "Favourite "omnibus, I made several inquiries, and at last found myself in Hollingsworth-street: a pleasant locality, which would have been pleasanter had there been less mud and more pavement. I looked around, but saw no sign of dogginesa. At last I succeeded in fixing a red-faced matron who was cuffing her offspring, and of her I inquired, as civilly as might be, if she knew where the Dogs' Home was situated ? Following this lady's directions, I crossed the road, and soon found myself at the gates, when, a sharp little lad, so soon as he heard my business, ushered me into the Home. A big yard, on the opposite end of which I see a I block of kennels with a wirework fenced show-place outside, very like that appropriated to the monkeys at the Zoological Gardens. In this, a crowd rf dogs, who no sooner see the boy accompanying me than they set up a tremendous howling. Not a painful yelping, nothing suggestive of hunger or physical suffering but simply that undertoned howl which means. Take me out and give me a run." Dogs of all common kinds here, but nothing very valuable. "Mongrel, puppy, and whelp, and curs of low degree." Big dogs, haft- mastiff, half-sheepdog, bastard Scotch and English terriers, in all instances with a cross of wrong blood in < them one or two that ought to have been beagles, but j seemed to have gone to the bad several lurchers | looking as if they ought to have had a poacher's heels j to follow, and a grand gathering of the genuine English J cur; that cheery, dissipated, dishonest scoundrel, who f betrays his villany in the shiftiness of his eye and the limpness of his tail; who is so often lame, and so per- petually taking furtive snatches of sleep in doorways a citizen of the world, and yet a singlehearted brute who will follow any one for miles on the strength of a kind word, and who, when kicked off, turns round phi. losophically and awaits some better fortune. Comfortably housed are all these dogs, with plenty to eat and drink, and a large open space where they are periodically turned out for exercise. I asked whether the neighbours did not raise strong objections to the proximity of the Home ? I was told that at first all kinds of legal persecutions were threatened, but that, as time passed, the ill-feeling died away, and now no complaints were made. The dogs, who are invariably rescued from starvation, are so worn out on reaching -j their new abode, that they invariably sleep for many hours as soon as they have taken food, and on re- covering, seem already accustomed to their quarters, j and consequently indisposed to whine. All the dogs i of any standing look plump and well fed; but there are j two or three new comers with lacklustre eyes and very | painful anatomical developments. I carefully scruti- | nised them all. There were about 80. | The Home for lost and starving dogs has now been in existence more than three years. The establishment I • was started by the present honorary secretary: a lady V who had for some time been in the habit of collecting j such starving animals as she found in her own neigh- J bourhood, and paying a person a weekly sum for their f keep. After explaining her plan in the columns of one of-the daily newspapers, she received warm assistance, and the co-operation of the Society for the Prevention i of Cruelty to Animals having been obtained, the Home » entered upon its present extended sphere of usefulness, f and boasts a large number of annual subscribers.
lltisoilmraras (lateral ftcte.
lltisoilmraras (lateral ftcte. SEIZURE OF THE "GERETY."—When the six rebel passengers seized the Gerety at sea she had 122 bales of cotton on board. The captain and crew were set adrift in a boat, and it is said that the steward, having made resistance, was killed. The new masters then painted off the proper name of the vessel, changing it to the Enreka-a rebel schooner. Being already fur- nished with a register, corresponding with the tonnage and quantity of cotton, by the rebel collector in the port of Brownsville, they steered for Belize, and entered under the British ensign, the authorities refusing to reo cognise the rebel flag, which they at first displayed. Here the cotton was immediately sold to a merchant, the parties receiving 7,000 dols. on account. An ar. rival from Sisal brought news of the piracy, when the captors of the Gerety decamped suddenly. The British authorities offer a reward of 500 dols. for the arrest of the leaders, named Hogg and Brown respectively. The cotton is on its way to England the schooner is safe at Belize, and the remainder of the money will be handed over to the proper owners. Five cotton schooners had arrived in Belize from rebel ports within a short time. and were preparing to run through the blockade on their return. MILITARY ENDURANCE.—A writer in the Washington Chvonicle says that the greatest power of endurance of such hardships as belong to a soldier's life belong to men over 35 years of age that men from 18 to 30 are ten times on the sick list where those older are only once; that the records of the hospitals around Washington develope the fact that, aside from surgical cases, the patients there under 35 are as 40 to 1 over that age consequently, a sound man of 40, and of temperate habits, will endure moro fatigue and hard treatment than one equally sound at the age of i 20. NAPOLEON TURNED SULKY !—In Paris it is said that the Emperor is more resolved than ever to take no active part in the Danish question, but to leave to England all the difficulties and all the glory of in* tervention. His Majesty feels no deep regret at what 1 has come to pass. England had her own way in Greek affairs, and she must now manage the best way she can with Danish. He considers it a just retribution for refusing to join the general Congress which he pro* posed. He will content himself with watching the course of affairs, and will act according to ciroum" stances. It is hoped that the English Cabinet will; i after all, revert to the idea of a Congress,-On this subject a correspondent writes:— I It must be confessed that France is indebted to her Emperor ( for a great weapon, which she now uses on every occasion. As a skilled fencer meets every pass and lunge of his ant a' gonist by a parry of his foil, so France now opposes the Congress to any advanc e made by England or, indeed, Europe, l THE WAY HE DOES IT !—The man who pay9 the largest personal tax in New York lives in the same house in which he kept a store for 50 years (says a New York paper). He washes himself in a tin pan in the backyard, whenever he does wash at all; takes a basket and goes out to buy a little food, whioh a woman in the house prepares for him. He sells no goods at present, but adds to his vast wealth daily by lending money on good security, being just as shrewd, keen, and close as ever he was, though he is j much beyond 70 years of age. A DUEL AFTER A BALL — A letter from Naples says:— The first grand ball given yesterday by Prince Humbert to the elite of Neapolitan society was most brilliant. More than 2,500 persons were preseut, and dancing was kept up to a late hour. The evening, however, was saddened by a regretable incident. A discussion, in which some sharp words were exchanged, led to a duel between the Duke de Sant' Arpino and Prince Colonna, brother of the Syndic of Naples. The cause of the duel was an act of forgetfulness which had involuntarily taken place with regard to the Princess de Maliterne, who, having danced in the quadrille with Prince Humbert, ought, according to etiquette, to have supped at the Prince's table. The Duke de Sant' Arpino having given his address to Prince Colonna, a meeting took place by torchlight in the villa of the Marquise de Salza at Pausilippe. The weapons chosen were cavalry sabres. The combat was very sharp, and lasted nearly five minutes.. The Prince was first touched in the breast, and the seconds interfered, but as no blood was drawn, the combat was continued. After a few passes, the Duke, feeling a certain resistance against his sabre, cried out that his adversary was wounded. The Prince declared that he felt nothing, and was eager to continue but at that moment blood was seen streaming from his arm, and the medical men declared that the wound was severe enough to put an end to the affair. The combatants, old friends of twenty years' standing, then shook hands r THACKERAY (IN MEMORIAM).—We had our differences of opinion. I thought that he too much I feigned a want of earnestness, and that he made a pretence of undervaluing his art, which was not good for the art that he held in trust (writes Charles Dicker- in the CornhiU Magazine). But. when we fell upon thes topics, it was never very gravely, and I have a lively image of him in my mind, twisting both his hands in hia hair, and stampingabout, laughing, to make an end of the discussion. When we were associated in remembrance of the late Mr. Douglas Jerrold, he delivered a public lecture in London, in the course of which he read his L very best contribution to Punch, describing the grown- I up cares of a poor family of young children. No one < hearing him could have doubted his natural gentleness, or his thoroughly unaffected manly sympathy the weak and lowly. He read the paper cally, and with a simplicity of t^ tainly moved ore of his audien. presently after his stp"-i: ..t place he had disp note (to which he urging me to co tell them whom h< than two of the el. thought there migh heard of me." He tioned with a re. failure, which was good humour. Ht and an excellent i once asking me wit W "n to Eton, whe tl— I le"J" 1),g he did in wantiiig instantly 1 of this when I loo. I laid there, for I locv J of a boy to whom L t < I'