The Cardiff and Merthyr Guardian Glamorgan Monmouth and Brecon Gazette

CARDIFF POLICE COURT. MONDAY. (Before Mr. R. 0. JONES and Mr. W. D. BUSHELL.) STREET GAMES. — William Driscoll, a lad, was charged with playing] at pitch and toss, in Bute-street, on Saturday afternoon. The defendant was one of the lads employed in carrying about placards announcing public entertainments, and, on Saturday afternoon, he and several others engaged in the same profession put down their boards and caused an obstruction by playing at pitch and toss for a considerable time oppo- site St Mary's Church. The defendant said they were only playing for amusement. Cautioned and dis- charged. THE CARDIFF DENS. — Catherine Yarwood was charged with keeping a house of ill-fame in Fredrica- street. From an error in the date of the summons the case was dismissed, but the police were directed to take proceedings against the house in the event of the practice being continued. — Hannah Lapham was charged also with keeping a house of a similar character in the same street. The case was proved by Police- constable Newman, and the defendant was sent to prison for one month. WILFUL DAMAGE.—Jeremiah Mahoney, an inhabitant of Newtown, was charged with breaking a panel in the front door of a house in Tyndall-street, kept by Mary Callaghan. Ordered to pay 10s., the cost of the damage, and costs. ASSAULT.—Charles Bell, a groom, was fined 20s. and costs, for an assault on Catherine Evans. TUESDAY. (Before Mr. W. D. BUSHELL and Mr. G. PHILLIPS.) ROBBERY AT THE NATIONAL SCHOOL.—Ann Price, a little girl attending the National School, Bute-terrace was charged with stealing a waterproof cloak from the school, the property of another scholar named Mary Jane Merdock. The cloak was missed from the school iu October last, and in January it was pledged at the shop of Mr. Freeman, pawnbroker. In consequence of another charge against the prisoner this case was not proceeded with. SHOP ROBBERY.—Ann Price, the same girl as was charged in the last case, was charged with stealing five pairs of boots from the shop of Mr. William Northover, boot and shoemaker, Herbert-street. The mother of the girl, Mary Jane Price, was also charged with receiving them, knowing them to have been stolen. The girl had been living since November at the prosecutor's as a nurse, and during the dinner hour was usually left in charge of the snop. From time to time boots and shoes had been missed from the shop, and since January the prisoner Mary Jane Price had pledged five pairs of boots at the shops of Mr. M. Phillips, Mr. Freeman, and Mr. Levene, pawnbrokers. The articles were pledged in dif- ferent names. The Police Superintendent said that there were a very large number of other cases of a similar cha- racter against the mother and the girl. The girl seemed to have been employed to steal the goods, and the mother disposed of them. A number of articles of clothing belonging to the children attending the National School, Bute-terrace, had been missed from the school at various periods, and when the prisoner's house was searched by the police, a large number of pledge tickets were found. The prisoners were committed for trial at the Quarter Sessions. • WEDNESDAY. (Before Messrs. JONES, BUSHELL, and PHILLIPS.) WOMEN'S QUARRELS.—*Mariha Flinders, a young woman residing in Nelson-street, was charged with as- saulting a young woman living in the same street named Margaret Wreath, on Friday last, and also with breaking several panes of glass in the window of the complainant's apartment. The assault was one of very ordinary oc- currence in that locality. The parties are neighbours, and meeting in the street over a mussel-stall they quar- relled, tnrew the shells at each other, and then the de- fendant threw a mug of water over the complainant, and on the complainant retreating to her apartment the defendant followed, struck her on the face, and smashed several panes of glass in the window. Moses Oram aDd Sarah Hyer were charged with an assault on Mary Ann Dunscombe, a sister of the defendant in the last case. This assault arose out of the last one. After the assault on Margaret Wreath these parties went to the house of the defendant, and on seeing defendant's sister they attacked her, knocked her down, and pulled her hair. Martha Flinders was fined 2 IS. and costs, aud Moses Oram and Sarah Hyer 10s. each and costs. THURSDAY. (Before Mr. W. D. BUSHELL and Mr. G. PHILLIPS) THE DRINK.—Andrew Doyle, a sailor, was charged with being drunk and damaging a fence in St. Mary- street, on Wednesday evening. The defendant, in a fit of intoxication, attempted to obtain admission to the circus, and failing in this he pulled down a portion of the fence adjoining. He was cautioned by a police- constable, and he then became very violent, knocked the constable down, and tore a portion of his uniform. For want of evidence respecting the damage, the case was dismissed. THROWING STONES.—Edward Furnish, a lad living at Canton, was charged with assaulting a sailor's ap- prentice, named George Draper, by throwing stones. The defendant was annoyed at some remarks made by the complainant, who was on the West Dock, on Wed- nesday, when he took up a stone, threw it at him, and wounded him just below the eye. Sent to prison for seven days, with hard labour.

FATAL FALL DOWNSTAIRS.—Charles Monger, a coastguardsman engaged at Portland, rose early on Monday morning to answer a call, and on reaching the top of the stairs fell down head foremost, breaking his neck. A new London street dodge is exposed by a victim. A flower girl, or a confederate, quietly smears filth on the back of a finely dressed lady, and then the lady is informed in a sympathising tone of the misfor- tune that has befallen her. The informant secures a gratuity by helping to clean off the nuisance. MURDER AT HULL,—At a few minutes after ?even o'clock on Monday morning Charles Sleight, of Brighton, a man thirty years of age, and the manager of the Deaf and Dumb Institution, 10, Dock-street, Hull, surrendered himself to Inspector Grace, at the Hull police station, and charged him- self with murdering a young woman. Inquiries were at once made; a visit was paid to the institution, and the building was searched. In an upper back bedroom the body of a young woman was found. The head had but recently been severed from the trunk, and the body was still warm. A razor, with which the deed had probably been committed, lay near and the whole disposition of things in the room showed that a murder had been committed. Tha victim is a deaf mute, named Maria Hailstone, 24 years of age, the wife of another deaf mute, both husband and wife being inmates of the institution.

CURIOUS BREACH OF CONTRACT. COWAN V. DAWSON. — This was a somewhat singular case (heard at the Presteign assize, South Wales), for though it was in effect an action for seduction, yet, for technical reasons the defendant was sued for breach of a [contract by which he bad promised to instruct the plaintiff's daughter, and morally and religiously train her. The plaintiff is the bandmaster of a volunteer corps, and lives near London; the de- feDda.nt. i8 the proprietor of an hotel at X..1-drlndod. a watering place in South Wales. From the evidence of the plaintiff and his daughter it appeared that in the month of February, 1869, the young lady had just left school, and her father was seeking some employ- ment for her. At that time the wife of the defendant, accompanied by a friend whom he knew, called upon him in London, and told him that she was there for the purpose of obtaining two young ladies to assist her in the management of her hotel, that she had seen his daughter, and had been very much taken by htr appearance and manner, and would be very glad if she would enter her service. The plaintiff objected to his daughter going so far from home, but finally, upon the representation of Mrs. Dawson that her bus- band was, as she said, a very good and religious man, and would attend to the moral training of the girl, who was then only 16 years old, and upon her saying hat she herself would take every care of her, and would be as a mother to her, Mr. Cowan consented. Mrs. Dawson mentioned that she might require Miss Cowan to help at a refreshment bar at the Llandrindod Rail- way Station, upon which her father declared that if that were so his daughter should certainly not go. It was then agreed that the young lady should not have anything to do with the refreshment bar, but should confine herself to assisting in the management of the hotel, and conducting the correspondence. In May of the same year, however, Miss Cowan was seni to serve in the refreshment-room without the consent of her father. This room was about three minutes' walk from the hotel, entirely separated from it, and on the opposite side of the line. There were no other females employed there besides Miss Cowan, but de- fendant was in the habit of going there frequently, and bad such intercourse with her as resulted in the birth of a child on the 14th of May, 1870. The de- position was read of the person who was present at the interview between the plaintiff and Mrs. Dawson, proving the terms upon which the agreement was made. No witnesses were called for the defendant, and the jury, after having retired about an hour, re- turned a verdict for the plaintiff—Damages, .£120.

TARIFFS. 4. What is the difference between a plan of a battle-field and a roasted pippin ?—one is a war-map— the other a warm apple. An ingenious man has a machine to make a man rise early in the morning. A six months' old baby can beat that. Why is a shirt-button like life 1-Because it so often hangs by a thread. What flower is always in a rage 7- The wild rose. Your cousin Bob has run away with your sweetheart and married her!" said one friend to another.—" Poor Bob exclaimed the lover. A gentleman named Rose, having a daughter, named her Wild," as in his opinion Wild Rose" was a pretty conceit for a name. But when she grew up and married a man named Bull, the combination of her christian and surnames took the conceit out of the old man. Avoid temptation, through fear you may not withstand it. The man who can be nothing but- serious, or nothing but merry, is but half a man. A good word is an easy obligation but not to speak ill requires only our silence, which costs us nothing. THE POOR MAN'S STORY.—The garret. Frederick the Great was always very fond of dis- putation but as he generally terminated the discus- sion by collaring his antagonist and kicking his shins, few of his guests were disposed to enter the arena against him. One day when he was even more than usually disposed for an argument, he asked one of his suite why he did not venture to give his opinion on some particular question. "It is impossible, your majesty," was the reply, to express an opinion before a sovereign who has such very strong convictions, and wears such very thick boots." WELL DONE, DUNLOP.—At the hospitable man- sion of Judge Dunlop, one evening, a gentleman re- lated an anecdote which contained a capital pun on a name.—"Well, judge," said one of the company, when the laugh ceased, "it is fortunate for us that nobody can pun on our names."—"—Why, as to mine," returned the judge, "if you lop off the first syllable it is Dun." A doctor's motto is supposed to be patients and long suffering." SILENCE.—We rarely repent of having kept silence, we often repent of having spoken. Religion gives to virtue the sweetest hopes, to impenitent vice just alarms, to true repentance the most powerful consolations but it aims above all to inspire men with love, sweetness, and pity for mankind. A French lawyer recently defended a man who had stolen chickens from a farm-yard. He said his client was insane. "I do not see in this theft any- thing that would account for the insanity of the pri- soner," said the judge. I beg your pardon," replied the lawyer; this poor fellow is certainly insane. He stole a wretched skinny chicken, when he might have taken a fine fat pig." After the younger Mr. Pitt had made his speech in the House of Commons, Sir Robert Walpole, in a sarcastic note, remarked I apprehend the young gentleman has not sown all his wild oats to which Mr. Pitt replied, in a rejoinder: "Age ha"& its pri- vileges, and youth may have its faults but the gentle- man affords ample illustration that I still retain food enough for geese to peck at." A GOOD WIFE.— The following sentences are from Archbishop Seeker's Wedding Bing:—" Hast thou a soft heart?—it is of God's breaking. Hast thou a sweet wife ?-she is of God's making. The Hebrews have a saying, He is not a man that hath not a woman.' Though man alone may be good, yet it is not good that man should be alone. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above.' A wife, though she be not a perfect gift, is a good gift, a beam darted from the Sun of mercy. How happy are those marriages where Christ is at the wedding! Let none but those who have found favour in God's eyes find favour in yours. Husbands and wives should provoke Ol;e another to love and they should love one another, notwithstanding provocations. Good servants are a great blessing; good children a greater blessing; but a good wife is the greatest blessing; and such a help let him seek for that lacks one; let him sigh for that hath lost one; let him delight in that enjoys one." Idleness has no advocate, but many friends. i. OMPLIMENT ON THE SPOT.—Count d'Orsay, in remarking upon a beauty-speck on the cheek of Lady Southampton, compared it to a gem on a rose- leaf .—"The compliment is far-fetched," observed her ladyship.—" How can that be," rejoined the Count, when it is made on the spot ?" An intolerable bure, having talked a friend nearly out of his senses, finally struck out on "the oyster," which he called "one of the most remarkable specimens of creative wisdom extant," when his friend iuterrupted him. and" olo8ed tJ- dabate," with the eX" clamation, The oyster! Ah, yes, the a glorious fellow he always knows when to shut up NONSENSE.—An old bachelor says, It is all nonsense to pretend that love is blind. I never yet knew a man in love that did not see ten times as much in his sweetheart as I could. SECRETS —Tell not your secrets to your ser- vant, for he will then be your master. How TO BEGIN LIFE.—Begin life with but little show you may increase it afterwards. GIRLS AND YOUNG MEN —In girla we love what they are, but in young men what they promise to be. NNOWLEDGE AND TRUTH.—Knowledge pre- cedes obedience. Truth leads to good. How important, then, that our knowledge should be sound, and what we regard as truth of heavenly origin. SHEET MUSIC.—The cry of children in bed. A MUSICAL JOKE.—There lately appeared on the front of a house to let a ticket with the follow- ing intimation :—To let, two flats; apply to A. Sharp." An intending occupant of musical proclivities was over- heard to say that he wished he kuew where to fiud the key. A gentleman in beginning to write out a bond, began thus,—" Know one woman by these pre- sents." Hold on exclaimed a lawyer it should be, Know all men by these presents.' Very well," said the gentleman, if one woman knows it, all men will be sure to know it also." A musical author, being asked if he had com- posed anything lately, replied-u My last work was a composition with my creditors." A little girl had a beautful head of hair, which hung in "clustering curls" down on her neck. One hot summer day she went upstairs and cut all the curls off. Coming down she met her mother, who ex- claimed with surprise, Mary what have you been doing to your hair ?" To which she responded that she had cut it off and laid it away in her box, but that she intended to put it on again to-morrow, as aunt Nancy did. A gentleman was seated with other persons in a room where a country girl sat bolt upright and utterly silent. Silence, indeed, fell upon the entire party, and the gentleman first alluded to said, in what he supposed to be an almost inaudible tone of voice. "Awful pause !"—" Well Mister," exclaimed the in- dignant country lass, jumping up, "you'd have awful paws, too, if you had to do the scrubbing that I does." FRESHNESS.—A young girl generally loses her freshness by mingling with fashionable society, as a bright stream does by mingling with the sea. THE WORLD IN THE CEILING.-—The rounded house in the Strand, at the corner of the turning lead- ing to Trafalgar-square, has its top crowned with a small dome, and this, Mr. Charles Bowles, one of the firm of American bankers occupying the house, has caused to be painted with a map of the northern half of the world. It is exceedingly well and clearly done, and full of suggestion to those who view it with a mind. Little golden spots mark out the cities and towns the railways, the telegraphs through land and sea are plainly seen, and the degrees of latitude and longitude are shown. The causes which have tended to raise towns and countries to importance, the enormous ex- tent of the Russian Empire, the importance of the Suez Canal, the extraordinary railroad recently completed across America, are a few amongst the points that are at once conveyed to the mind of the observer. The value of a silent teacher like this in a great school would be immense, and the idea might usefully be carried out further. Why should not the walls of edu- cational establishments be decorated, as we have before now suggested, with instructive diagrams, enlarged maps of countries, statements of leading facts in his- tory, outlines of sciences, historical dates,—in fact, mind excitants of all sorts. Anyhow, Mr. Bowles has turned his ceiling into what Byron calls the skull, a dome of thought."—Builder. LESSONS OF THE WAR.—Ignorance is ever arro- gant and boastful. It plumes itself on its knowledge. It is pride in another guise. France was ignorant. Her young men had been fed on false history. They knew not how the world had gone with other nations. They had never heard of French defeats. Their pic- tures of war told but one story. Even in their painted histories of the Crimea only a handful of English sol- diers were thrown in for the sake of effect in grouping or colour. Our troops, according to French artists, had no active part in the great drama. With the French Paris was France, and France was the world. Their news was made for them at home. The Govern- ment edited their newspapers. The peasants were lost in a maze of ignorance. The people who came against th-m had been with the schoolmaster. They were not braver in the sense of holding death in contempt; but they had undergone a course of moral and physical training. They were not only armed with the needle- gun, they carried maps of France in their knapsacks. To them war was a serious affair. They entered into the conflict soberly and with the solemnity that became the situation. Knowledge of themselves made them liberal in their estimation of the foe. Respect for their homes, and the moral discipline that accompanies an educated society, would not have allowed their avant garde to be augmented by the carriages of a general's courtesans, nor encumbered with the P9ts and kettles and kitchen-followers of his cook. Lightly to make war, and gleefully to enter upon it, is the effect of a bad education.—School Board, Chronicle.

phases of lhlish 3% EDITED BY SPES. CHAPTER XIII. SHRIVING. Oh how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away. WHES Parnell returned from his walk through Des- mond's Wood—the walk which was endeared to him since that memorable evening when he enjoyed its delights in the company of Miss Desmond and his cousin Constance—he despatched another note to his lady-love, saying that he would do himself the honour of paying his respects to her on the morrow, when he hoped she would be at home. Having finished his work for the day, be retired, indulging iu alternate fits of hope and despair. The religion the religion he muttered to himself. "She is a devout Catholic! Yet Protestants and Catholics do intermarry — sometimes — against the wishes of their friends, it is true but what right have friends' to interfere in such matters ? If Miss Des- mond accepts my hand and heart, I would build a shrine for her in every room in our house, and would feel assured that the altar she would worship at must be sacred. I would act so while I would hold to Protestantism as the sheet-anchor of my faith. A fig for the opinion of the world She is all beauty and goodness, and I love her—I love her And he fell asleep with the words upon his lips—to dream about the wondrous loveliness of the girl to whom he would soon open wide the doors of his heart. He awoke when moonbeams were playing upon his bed. Dreams-dreams-he had been dreaming all night. He had revealed all to her, he had been ac- cepted, and the joy, not the moonbeams, awoke him. He fell asleep again, and dreamt that with offended dignity she dismissed him from her presence. That was at midnight, and he rose and looked out for conso- lation. He had need of it, and he prayed for strength of mind to the Lord of those star-lit skies, radiant and awful in their glittering splendour. Once more he closed his eyes, and undistinguished visions perplexed him until the morning sunlight glared through his chamber. Before he descended to the breakfast-parlour he threw off all signs of agitation, and appeared himself at the table. After the matutinal meal he entered his study, and consoled himself in writing a few verses about the state of his heart. Frank had long been a reader of the poets, and had occasionally invoked his muse for power to paint the incarnate angel ef his life. He was not singular in flying to verse for relief. Poetry is the language of love. Lovers try to express themselves in the music of verse. They fail as a rule, but they find relief, nevertheless, and in this way some add real jewels of poetry to literature. Frank composed his Dream." He did not like it. He was hard to please. His accomplished mind and correct taste were not to be deceived by conceit. He corrected the poem and put it away with his papers. Now to business. The customary Hospital rounds first claimed his attention. Afterwards some private patients in the town. Next the suburban practice was attended to, and finally some half-dozen county families who resided a few miles distant, but apart. He passed Miss Butler's twice, but failed to see Miss Desmond. How his heart throbbed whenever he ap- proached that old-fashioned dwelling—that ancient shell which contained the pearl of his life It seemed as if he had been 'bewitched—as if the sorceress of beauty had changed his whole nature-transfigured him. He often put himself to the test of self-ex- amination, and concluded that he had become effeminate in yielding without restraint to the passion of love. Could he help it ? No no he was obliged to answer. The sun and moon and stars must shine —the world go round the rain and snow must fall the birds must sing, the flowers bloom, and the diamonds sparkle. Frank Parnell must love Norah Desmond since he first beheld her. The clock struck six as he left the house, dressed in his ordinary style. His face wore a severe aspect, such as it was wont to assume whenever a grave surgical case was before him. In that kind of mind he looked ten years older than he really was. It was the family professional expression, indicating profound thought, and a reverential, inquiring mind. He walked with a deliberate step, slowly, up the town, not noticing man, woman, or child on his way. At Miss Butler's he knocked in his loud, quick, doctor style. The door was opened. Miss Desmond at home ?" "Yes, sir. Plase walk up, sir." He was shown into the drawing-room by the servant, and asked to sit down. She would announce his ar- rival to Miss Desmond. The live minutes which elapsed seemed an age, and in that brief space of time he passed through various stages of feeling, the last stage being one of perfect resolution and calmness. He would attempt no gran- diloquent tone—no eloquence to convince her whom it concerned of his truthfulness and ardour. Miss Desmond entered the room. His eyes fell full upon her. He rose and bowed, more stately than was his wont. She extended her hand, and with a smile requested him to be seated. Norah was in deep mourning, and the sombre habi- liments seemed to lend more enchantment to her figure and face. Since the death of her mother her beauty seemed to have ripened to perfection. The additional tinge of thought and sadness blended made her look the seraph Frank's ardent fancy had created. A ring of jet seemed to heighten the snowy whiteness of her hand. A cross of ivory hung from a necklace of small cut black stones. Her hair was arranged with studied simplicity, a ringlet at each side harmonising with the contour. Her eyes were lit up with unusual lustre—at least Frank thought so. She blushed slightly, but when she sat down a transient paleness crossed her brow. The room was the width of the house. One of the back windows was raised, the evening was so fine. The view looked out upon the old ramparts and ruins of the Castle, lined with ancient trees -oak and elm, beech and plane, and the scene was quiet and picturesque. Frank sat at one side, and Miss Desmond at the other, a small work- table of ebony, inlaid with satin wood, being between them. There, face to face, no more exquisite specimens of human nature could be met with in the Emerald Isle. If the love were reciprocal—if she loved him as he loved her, there could be no truer attachment under the sun. But he does not despair. He is now seen at this supreme moment full of hope, and his mind whispers that she will yet be his. After a few conventional remarks on the fineness of the weather—the beauty of the evening, Frank, in calm and measured language, began the business which he had called to transact. Miss Desmond, I beg you will excuse the motives which induced me to seek the interview yon have so graciously granted. They are motives which I am not ashamed of, although when divulged to you they may ruffle the peace of mind which I know you desire, and which interests me no less than yourself." Miss Desmond bowed, and fixed her eyes upon the floor. He gathered strength at the threshold, and seeing the serene, dignified, yet kindly aspect of the lady, he was encouraged to go on. When I tell you that the secret I am going to disclose has been confined to my own heart since the first day of your arrival in Heathborough, you will, I feel sure, grant that 1 am not acting precipitately and without forethought." Here he paused. "Hastiness, I believe, Dr. Parnell, is not a trait of your character. Pray, go on. I am prepared to listen." And as Norah said so, she looked intently on Frank. As a woman she knew what was coming, and all the blood of all the Desmonds mounted to her face, throwing over her lineaments a veil of dignified modesty. Divinity hedged her round like a queen, at least Frank thought so, and proceeded— "Since the first moment I saw you, Miss Desmond, you have influenced my feelings and changed the whole course of my life. To be brief, I saw you, and— and I LOVED YOlT." Norah put her hand across her eyes. Frank stopped, as if the long pent-up words made him rebound. Miss Desmond was again placid, though flushed, and seeing he hesitated, said with wonderful firmness and self-possession, I will listen to whatever you may be pleased to say," and with downcast eyes became like unto a statue of a Beautiful Virgin. Thanks, thanks. It was on such an evening as this that you first walked down the main street. You remember I met you in my way, and, seeing you, loved you. At first, I confess, I felt it was a foolish passion not founded on reason or prudence. I tried to forget you, tried to overcome a sentiment that was consuming my intellect, and that was not reciprocated. I was unable to do so. Unconsciously you swayed the sceptre^ over my affections, and I was helpless and a slave But I never gave you cause," was spoken in a low, musical, sympathetic tone. Never, never—hence the wildness of my passion. You remember when I have spoken to you as a pro- fessional man—at any time preceding the death of your mother"— Here Miss Desmond became visibly affected, and tears rolled down her face. She however quickly brushed them away. "Pardon me, Miss Desmond, for trifling with your feelings. It is a painful narrative, but I crave per- mission to continue it to the end." A sign of acquiescence induced him to proceed. Whenever I have spoken to you as a doctor I re- sisted with the whole force of my nature the semblance of the love which I bore you. But no sooner out of your presence than I was a slave again—and unfit for anything but to think of Miss Desmond. You remember the evening we met accidentally at the Well"- I remember," and a sigh escaped her lips. "The walk with cousin Constance through the Wood, when we conversed about Nature and Art? After that delightful and memorable evening, I loyed, if possible, more intensely than ever. I saw there was a complete accord of mind with body—and every remark you were pleased to make-eyery syllable that fell from your lips has been treasured up by me with miser-like care ever since. It may be asked why did I not speak of this before. There were deaths in the family—first one, then my father's. All these changes put my own selfish feelings out of view, and so I loved on, in hopes that one day the opportunity— this opportunity—would be given of portraying all. Yet not (dl-but only the outline of the picture. To tell you that I love you—love you deeply, and for ever"— Miss Desmond began to feel the matter was more serious than she had thought it was when Frank opened the subject. Thoughtful, accomplished, learned, she was as yet inexperienced as well as young, and, excepting its aspirations and sorrows, unacquainted with the trials of the heart. She would, for some good reason of her own, have interrupted Frank, and brought the interview to a close, perhaps, had not a singular and unlooked for interruption taken place. A tap was heard at the door. Come in." Plase, Miss, there's a young gentleman, just thravelled from Dublin, by the Canal, wants to see ye. He's in the hall, Miss, wid his portmanty." Miss Desmond coloured up. Frank seemed confused. A young gentleman from Dublin to come at such a moment. The hope-star in his sphere disappeared, and his horizon became black as night. 'Twas only for a moment, however, that he felt un- nerved. The dark shadow of his soul passed from his brow, and looking serenely into the face of Miss Desmond, he gallantly assisted her out of the dilemma. "Oh! it's cousin William," said she, glancing at Frank. "Ask him to come up, Anne." Cousin William had been half-way up the stairs, and before there was time for the interchange of another sentence between the pair, a tall dark-haired young gentleman was at the door met by Miss Desmond, whom he embraced with affection, kissing the damask cheek with the air of one who was mindful of his privilege, and availed himself of it. When the salutation was over, Miss Desmond, with singular coolness—which Frank could not understand for some time afterwards—introduced the two gen- tlemen to one another. Frank, who had been stand- ing, politely vanished, and was soon in the street. To say that he was not filled with bitterness, would be to imply that he was a god, not a man. The kiss before his eyes cut his heart to the core. Yet he had no right to complain. He cast no reproach upon the stainless rectitude of Miss Desmond. But she might have told him What and when ? That she was already engaged—before he disclosed so minutely his feelings towards her. Fool! he again thought. How do I know that she is engaged, that her "cousin" is more than a blood relation, and the embrace more than a friendly wel- come after a short separation. Despite all his reasoning, however, he felt the ser- pent of jealousy had come amongst the flowers of hope and the nettles of despair which grew with such luxu- riance in the garden of his mind The new-born agony was intensified when he met two days after Miss Desmond hanging on the arm of her cousin, enjoying a pleasant walk. Frank summoned all his philosophy to his aid. With erect figure, placid features, and a smile on his lips, he raised his hat and passed quickly on. "If he had disclosed his unfortunate passion long before, or kept his heart and mouth sealed for a short time longer." If if And then he thought of his rival—of the cousin—what did he come for ? When would he go ? Frand couldn't understand it. He flew up to Dublin and stopped there for a month. When he returned, Mr. Maguire, Miss Desmond's cousin, had left a fortnight before, accom- panied by—herself A fine-looking fellow enough," said Frank to him- self. "Studying for the bar." And a long train of gloomy reflections followed the thought. He had also heard that during the visit of Maguire to Heathborough, he and his cousin Miss Desmond went about like Juno's swans, inseparable. (To be continued.)

THE ROYAL ALBERT HALL. OPENING BY THE QUEEN. LONDON, Wednesday. There were a good many persons who, less than twenty. four hours ago, thought that there would be no opening of the Royal Albert Hall to-day, but that, like the base- less fabric of a vision," the hall itself would disappear. Last night there was a cry of fire. Then flames were seen to rise and cast a broad light upon our new coloseum: At the same time there was a strong glare of light through the windows and the glass roof of the huge building. Great was the excitement, and not small the crowd which gathered in the Kensington-road, prepared to see the hugest conflagration since the Thames itself was on fire with the burning oil from Alderman Cotton's wharf, on Midsummer Night ten years .ago. Fortunately, there was no connection between the flames outside and the glare inside. There was a fire, but it was devouring very humble fare, some workshops connscted with the International Exhibition and though it needed some steam fire engines to extinguish it, it was extinguished without serious damage. The brilliancy of the great Hall arose from the lighting of the innumerable jets of gas by which the building is illuminated. To-day we could well have had a little more light and heat. It was by no means Queen's weather, except for the absence of rain. Grey clouds overhead, white dust under foot, and the trees that were so bright and green half a week ago, looking as though the tender buds had been shrivelled up by last night's hard frost. However, cold and dusty though it was, the weather did not prevent the presence of the sightseers who thronged the streets, filled the win- dows, and who stormed all available door-steps be- I tween Buckingham Palace and Kensington gore. Indeed, there exists some doubt on the point even now, whether a dull, but genial morning is not the most suitable for pageantry, especially if it be of a sorne. what.subdued character in itself. The police regulations were admirable, all the thoroughfares along which the royal carriages were to pass being closed against traffic at an early hour. The largest number of spectators, as a matter of course, were col- lected in the neighbourhood of the new hall, and it required all the exertions of Colonel Henderson and his satellites to keep sufficient space clear in front of the royal entrance at the northern end in the Kensington- road. The carriages containing the Prince of Wales and suite were the first to arrive, after the doors of the hall had been closed as arranged to the general public. Some time afterwards the Life Guards were seen approaching the building in advance of Her Majesty's carriage, and a long retinue of vehicles in which were seated the Princess of Wales, the Princess Helena (Princess Christian), the Princess Louise, the Princess Beatrice, Prince Arthur, Prince Leopold, Count Seckendorff, the Mar. quis of Lome, the Duke of Saxe Coburg Gotha, the Lord Mayor of London, and other distinguished visitors. The guard of honour at the Hall was supplied by compa- nies of the Foot Guards, and the National Anthem was played by the band on the arrival of the Queen, the crowd cheering vociferously. The Treasurer of the House. hold, the Vice-Chamberlain, the Silver Stick-in-Waiting, and the Field Officer of Bri^ade-in-Waiting were with H.R.H. the Prince of Wales, and the Provisional Commit- tee were in attendance at the Hall to receive her Majesty. The Secretary of the Home Department was also present. The line of route from St. James's Park was lined with cavalry and infantry, and a double line of handsome carriages stretched away to right and left behind the troops on the roads near the immediate vicinity of the new hall. Visitors .who had been privileged to enter by any of the many doors of the hall were advised to arrive as soon after ten as they could make it convenient. Consequently for a full hour and a half before the ceremony began the building (except a few boxes) was crowded, and there seemed to be no room for late comers. Looking down from one of the galleries the spectacle was most striking. The form of the building, with its graceful curve, is better calculated than any other to let every spectator see the whole assembly at once. There are no angles nor corners to interfere with the vision. The result is, that when you have a multitude clad in its best attire as it was to-day, there is a veritable feast of colour. Tier upon tier rose the brilliant tinted rows. The distance was too great for you to recognise individual faces except in your immediate neighbourhood. You saw only specks of violet, mauve, green, and crimson, like the flowers of a garden as gardens used to be laid out before the present formal ribbon system came into vogue. The building itself wants colour. It is too white, and on a bright sum- mer's day the huge velarium which now intercepts the light from the lantern will be fully needed. But on a gray, cold day like to.day we would gladly have had a few sunbeams. However, we did not want colour even to- day for, besides the gay robes of many thousand well. dressed women, there were costumes by the hundred. Military men of course were in full uniform; the mayors were in theirs; Dean Stanley in his—a skull cap to wit—and very small and prim he looked, sur- rounded by a crowd of scarlet and ermined magnates. Then there were the Beef-eaters, the most magnificent part of the whole performance. They lined the passage through the arena, from the door by which the royal party entered to the throne on which the Queen did not sit. The four Burmese, whom everybody is lionising, were there, with their faithful attendant Captain Spry. Her Majesty's Ministers and their wives had a box to the right of the orchestra. Most of them were dressed in the Windsor uniform. Mr. Gladstone was there talking most of the time to the snowy-haired Lord Chancellor. There were also Mr. Cardwell, Mr. Forster, Lord Halifax, Mr. Stansfeld and the Duke of Argyll, who though a very short man, held his head up so high that he looked the biggest of the lot. Opposite them was the diplomatic circle, also in a box. But where were her Majesty's faithful Opposition? They were not to be seen anywhere- If they were present, they must have arrived singly, and were quite lost in the vast throng. The Duke of Cambridge and the Prince and Princess Mary of Teck did not join the royal proces- sion, but had a box to themselves. The Commander in-Chief was in Field Marshal's uniform. The first arrival to cause any excitement was Sir Michael Costa, who received an almost royal cheer from the orchestra as he advanced through the line of Beef. eaters. Then while we were all waiting for the sound of royal chariot wheels an expert photographer ap. peared with his camera and "took" Sir Michael Costa and his army of five hundred musicians. They surrendered at discretion, and did not seem to mind their captivity, for when told that they were released they sent up a burst of merry laughter. Then the Bishop of London, in lawn sleeves and blackrochet, tall and stately, walked up towards the dais with his prayer in his hand, and chatted for a while with Dean Stanley. About twenty minutes to one there is a simultaneous movement. Everyone rises. The head of the royal procession is seen at the top of the long staircase of nearly thirty steps which leads down from the level of the boxes into the arena. On they come, a gorgeous cloud of gold and scarlet first, then many-tinted Highland plaids, then a softer hue of crimson, then a clond of purest white, and last of all. a dark sombre garment. The gold and scarlet denote the officers of state (save that Lord Granville and Mr. Bruce wore the usual blue Windsor tmiform). The Highland plaids were worn by Prince Leopold and by his new brother-in-law, the Marquis of Lome, and the observed of all observers. The pure white, I need hardly say, was worn by the bride, Princess Louise and Marchioness of Lome, as she is described in the official programme. The crimson was worn by the Princess of Wales, who never looked more lovely or more graceful. She was incom- parably the most beautiful woman there. Prince Arthur wore the dark green uniform of the Rifles, the Princess Beatrice was so hid with green that the hearts of the most envious Fenians, if any had been present, must have been rendered loyal in spite of themselves. The Princess Helena was in blue; the Prince of Wales wore his military uniform, so, too, did Prince Christian, the Duke of Saxe Coburg (brother of the Prince Consort) was attired in a white uniform, that almost vied with the costume of his niece, or those of the Burmese. The Queen was wholly in black. The Royal party being all arranged on the dais, with their backs to the orchestra, and facing the people, the band and the organ struck up God save the Queen. The Prince of Wales then advanced from out of the midst of the royal party, and standing on the Queen's right, read the address. During this part of the performance an unpleasant dis- covery was made. There was found to be a most trouble. some echo. It was found almost impossible not to believe that some one was mocking the Prince as he spoke, by repeating eve»y word after him. It is clear that, at all events at present, the Hall is not at all adapted for public speaking. And yet, strange to say, the address was heard distinctly at the other end of the building high up above the boxes. The same impertinent echo was heard when the Bishop of Londou read the prayer. The Queen looked vry sad and downcast while the address was reading, and it seemed as if ahe could scarcely refrain from tears at the Prince's reference tc his father. She herself would not declare the hall open but in a low tone, so low that the Prince at first did not catch the words, she bade her son make the formal announcement. This he did in a strong clear voice, and straightway there was a ripple of cheers, which spread over the building. Then the r.vyal party descended trom tneir dais, returning in the reverse order, the Queen walking with her eldest son, and acknowledging from time to time the obeisance of the dis- tinguished assembly. On they passed through the line of gorgeous beef-eaters, up the thirty steps, and were lost to sight. Presently there was another volley of hand- clapping. The royal party had entered the royal boxes, and were about to take their seats for the musical performance. The Princess Louise sat in the front, her husband kept modestly in the back-ground. The Queen gave the signal, and band and organ struck up the first notes of the cantata. At the close the Queen, the Princess Louise, the Marquis of Lorne, and several other members of the Royal family took their leave. But the Prince and the Princess of Wales, Prince Arthur, and other members of the Royal party, remained to the end of the concert which followed. The musical portion of the ceremony was on a very mag- nificent scale, the band and chorus under Sir Michael Costa's baton numbering about two thousand. The result we consider fairly settled the point of the accoustic pro- perties of the building. The space was, of course, im- mense, and there was a proportionate limit to the power of the individual vocalist or the full chorus, but in either case the ..sound travelled freely, and was equally diffused throughout the building. Of this the proof was most palpable. The band was specially selected for this special occasion, and each depart- ment was perfect. The chorus was also well balanced, and the principal vocalists, Mesdames Sherrington and Patey, Mr. Santley, and Mr. Vernon Rigby need no words of ours to add to their genuine Eng- lish reputations. The strains of the National anthem, although so familiar, appeared under the present circumstances to impress the audience with unusual vivid. ness. The cantata which Sir Michael Costa composed for the ceremony, constituted the first item of the programme. There are some pleasing effects in it, and several passages of good broad harmony, but no features of striking originality. The words are selected from the Bible, but Mr. John Oxenford, who undertook the duty of selection does not appear to have thought it necessary to give the different passages any connected association. The opening was a recitative on the passage Praise ye the Lord praise ye the name of the Lord." Madame Sherrington did it full justice. No. 2 was a chorus, Sing aloud unto God our strength," and delivered with the forces Sir Michael had under his command, it was most effective, the orchestral accompaniments being very happily executed, especially where the blast of the trum- pets is made after the delivery of the words Praise Him with the sound of the trumpet." Again, Praise Him with stringed instruments and organs" had an admirable response from the reed instruments, and pizzicato passages on the violins and cellos. No. 3 embraced a recitative, "Through wisdom is an house builded," and the air Come unto Me all ye that be desirous of Me." 1\11. Santley sung these, and with such a vocalist success was unquestionable; accompanying these also the instrumentation was good. No. 4 was a chorale, with, we presume, no pretentions to originality. It was given alternately as a quartett by the principal voices and the chorjs. No. 5, 0 clap your hands, all ye people," and succeeding sentences, are set to a very pleasing melody, which Madame Sherrington sang with great feeling. The concluding selection, was a chorus, "Osing unto the Lord a new song," and was evidently regarded by the audience as the chief feature of the cantata. The next item in the programme was the late Prince Albert's L'Invocasione All 'Armonia," affording a solo to the principal vocalists as well as good scope for the chorus. Handel's recitative and aria Lascia ch'io pianga," was warbled forth by Madame Patey, and this, with the succeeding trio, Ti prego, 0 Madre pia," by Curshmann, constituted the most pleasing portion of the entire performance. The soothing melody in both of these was of that class which appeals most readily to a general audience. As still further varying the programme, Gounod's aria "Salve dimora," was sung by Mr. Rigby with a chaste violin obligato by M. Sainton. The prayer from Auber's "Masaniello was feelingly executed by the chorus, and the performance terminated with Rossini's overture, Gazza Ladra," rendered in magnificent style by the band. With respect to the organ, it is like every- thing else connected with the Hall, on the grandest scale, and exceeds in size and in resources, mechanical as well as musical, any other organ in the world. The instru- ment has four manuals and a pedal organ, with 1.11. stop* and 14 couplers. The pipes, which form the chief feature of the exterior, are of burnished metal-chiefly tin. The four largest pipes are 32 feet long, exclusive of the foot, and each pipe weighs about a ton. There was not much field for Mr. Best to display the powers of the instrument in the open- ing programme the most prominent instance was in the accompaniment to the chorales, and this but very partial. The builder was Mr. Willis, and the cost was about £9,000. An early opportunity will no doubt soon be afforded for the hearing the organ in its completeness. Mr. W. T. Best will, we understand, be the permanent organist.

By the death of Mr. E. Howes, M.P., the chancel- lorship of the diocese of Norwich becomes vacant. He was appointed in 1863. The benefit night of Mr. and Mrs. Billington, at the Adelphi Theatre, on Saturday, was largely patronised. Mr. and Mrs. Billington will shortly appear in the Adelphi petite comedie Smoke," at the Prince of Wales Theatre, Liverpool. THE REVOLUTIONARY GOVERNMENT.—They are men wholly of the common ranks. The Foreign Minister, who entered into correspondence with the Germans, is Boursier, who does the business of what is called here a liquor Uti — that is, he keeps a small shop where people liquor up;" where they take what in both the French and English idiom is known as "a drop." If you want "a drop" of absinthe, or any other liquid abomination, M. Boursier will serve you. M. Grelier, the Home Minister, is what is called here a placier- he does little odd jobs in a sort of touting agency, asking for orders. Assi you know, from his old connection with the Creuzot ironworks, where he managed to sow discord and produce a disastrous strike—the place before his advent there being a kind of paradise. Avoine fils is a working statuary. Theisz, who seized upon the Post-office, is a chaser of metals. With all their lowliness of origin, they are clear-headed and determined men and it remains to be seen whether all the wise heads of the National Assembly have the wit to cope with them.—Daily AeMM Correspondent. THE SENSE OF SMELL IN MAN.—The sense of smell is of the highest importance to the greater number of mammals—to some, as the ruminants, in warning them of danger; to others, as the carnivora, in finding their prey; to others, as the wild boar, for both purposes com- bined. But the sense of smell is of extremely slight service, if any, even to savages, in whom it is generally more highly developed than in tht civilised races. It does not warn them of danger, nor guide them to their food; nor does it plevent the Esquimaux from sleeping in the most fetid atmosphere, nor many savages from eating half putrid meat. Those who believe in the principle of gradual evolution, will not readily admit that this sense m its present state was originally acquired by man, as he now exists. No doubt he inherits the power in an en- feebled and so far rudimentary condition, from some early progenitor, to whom it was highly serviceable and by whom it was continually used. We can thus perhaps understand how it is, as Dr. Maudsley has truly re- marked, that the sense of smell in man "is singularly effective in recalling vividly the ideas and images of for- gotten scenes and places;" for we see in those animals, which have this sense highly developed, such as dogs and horses, that old recollections of persons and places are strongly associated with their odour.—The Descent of Man, by C. Darwin. MONUMENT TO THE LATE BISHOP OF CARLISLE. —A monumental brass has just been erected by Miss Burdett Coutts in one of the Carlisle churches, of which she was the founder, to the memory of the late Hon. and Right Rev. Dr. Samuel Waldegrave, Bishop of Carlisle. It is of an oblong form, and at the ends are canopied niches containing figure subjects representing the Resurrection and the Victory of the Redeemed. These are surmounted by lilies of the valley, arranged to form fleur-de-lis, as suggestive of affection and purity Below the figures are quatrefolios, supported on foliated consels, eis^laying the monogram of the bishop, with interlacement of trefoils, the colour of each arranged to form a cross At the bot- tom the border exhibits the emblems of the Evangelists St. Matthew and St. John, and contains the name of the founder of the church in which the memorial is fixed, and of its donor. The three compartments of the upper border are richly foliated. 1 he ornaments displayed in relief upon a sculptured ground at then: junctions are the emblems of the Evangelists St. Mark and St. Luke, contained in niches surmounted by tabernacle work. These form abut- ments for the foliated brattishing of a tympanum, which in its centre displays the arms of the see of Carlisle, coupled with those of the family of the bishop, the ground being filled with delicate foliations. The ciowning ornament of the memorial, to which the whole of the details are carefully introduced, is the cross. Ine harmony of colour exhibited by the mass blends very happily with the quiet grey of the moulded marble tablet upon which it is fixed. At a public meeting held at Liverpool resolu- tions were passed against any introduction of the test principle into the University Tests Bill. An attempt was made on Saturday by a party of men unknown to set fire to the house of Captain Costella, a magistrate of Mayo. CONVICTED OF MURDER.—In the ten years 1861-70 239 persons were sentenced to death in Eng- land for murder,—viz,, 193 men tind 46 women. 124 were executed—117 of the men, but only 7 of the women. The sentence on 105 of these convicts was commuted for a less punishment—penal servitude or imprisonment. Four men and one woman received free pardons; one man was pardoned on condition of quitting the United Kingdom; two men com- mitted suicide one was respited, being found to be insane and the sentenced on one was quashed on appeal.

EXTRAORDINARY TRIAL FOR MURDER. (Before Mr. Baron CLEASBY.) Walter Crabtree (19), printer, was indicted at the Leeds Assizes for the wilful murder of William Crab- tree, of Halifax, on the 18th December last. Mr. Shaw and Mr. Thornber for the prosecution, and Mr. Waddy defended the prisoner, who is a young man of rather heavy, phlegmatic appearance, the lower part of the face being decidedly sensual.. Mr. Shaw stated that the deceased was a widower carrying on business as a bookseller in a small shop in Waterhouse-street, Halifax. His family consisted of himself, three sons, and a female domestic. On the night of Saturday, the 17th December, one of the sons, aged about nine, and named Samuel Crabtree, went to bed about ten o'clock and fell asleep, and he had no recollection whatever as to the time his father retired to rest. The prisoner and his brother George slept in a room below. About five o'clock on the Sunday morning a policeman named Wilson was passing along Waterhouse-street, when he heard what he believed to be "thuds" on a bed, or blows, proceeding from the house of the deceased, and he also heard screams, as from some one who was being murderously attacked. There were about eleven blows in all, and observing that there was a light in the bedroom of the deceased, and that this suddenly disappeared, evidently in the direction of the kitchen of the house, he went to the side door in Gill's- court, and knocked at it. It was opened by George Crabtree; but there was also the prisoner with him. This door was the only external door to the house, ex- cept on week days, when persons could obtain entrance to the house through the front shop. The screams proceeding from the room which the deceased occupied at length alarmed the domestic, Catherine Burke, and she went to her master's apartment, and near the door she met the prisoner. She"exclaimed "What's to do but received no reply from the accused. On en- tering the room the prisoner cried out, "What's the matter ?" and his little brother, Samuel, who slept with his father, replied, You know you did it with the big poker in the kitchen." To this statement of his little brother the prisoner made no reply. Samuel ap- peared to have been aroused by the blows upon the head and body of his father, and the thuds on the bed, and, on looking up, he saw there was a candle on the floor of the bed-room his father being then lying on the side of the couch nearest to Waterhouse-street; that there was a person in the room having on only trousers and shirt, and that that person was then en- gaged in striking at his father's head. Samuel enter- tained the belief that his father's assailant was the prisoner at the bar, though he had to some extent con- cealed his features by a piece of window curtain. Policeman Wilson on obtaining admission into the house, saw prisoner, who told him his father had cut his throat. Witness then went up into the bed-room of the deceased, and finding that there was quite a quantity of blood on and about the body, he asked pri- soner who was their family doctor. Prisoner said they had no family doctor, upon which Wilson told him to go to the police station and give the alarm, and also despatched a message to the nearest surgeon. Sergeant Potterton was soon on the spot, and after hearing what had taken place, and what was the remark made by Samuel, he examined the poker and found it was wet. Catherine Burke also said, "He (the prisoner) has washed the poker it is wet; and he has left the water- tap running." The house appeared to be in the same condition as it had been secured on the previous night, and there was no entrance, except through the side door, through which Wilson was the first to enter the residence. When Catherine charged the prisoner with having washed the poker he made no reply. Potterton then examined Walter's hands, and found they had been recently washed, being damp, and a more minute examination of the prisoner resulted in marks of blood being discovered on the wrists of his shirt. After the evidence bad been called, and just when the case for the prosecution had been closed, a jury- man from Leeds was seized with an epileptic fit, and though he was immediately attended to by a medical man, the latter gentleman certified that he would be unable to resume his seat in the jury-box that day, and that he was liable to a similar attack at any moment, inasmuch a3 he had sustained an injury to his head two months previously, and was thereby rendered liable to a recurrence of such attacks. Another juryman was sworn in, and the judge then read over his notes of the evidence to the new juror. The defence was that the murder had been com- mitted by a sjang of burglars then infesting Halifax. 1 he jury almost immediately acquitted the prisoner.