The Brecon Reporter and South Wales General Advertiser

CHAPTER II. What is noble F To inherit W-ealth, estate, and proud degree ? There must he some higher merit, Higher yet than these for me! Something greater far must enter Into life's majestic span, Fitted to create and centre True nobility in man." C, SWAIN. BRAHAM, the jeweller, collector of coins, and maker of medals, was an old man of the Jewish persuasion to make money had been his passion, his one great pleasure in life, and occasionally he was not over scrupulous by what means he increased his riches. It was often hinted that the old Jew would bargain with receivers of stolen goods, and that the smeltmg-pot was always kept heated to convert precious metals into shapeless masses where thera was any danger of his getting into trouble. Detectives had tried in vain, however, to bring home to him any complicity with the frequent robberies which were occurring in the neighbourhood. As he became older the worst phases of his character deepened and darkened. He impatiently endured rivalry in making his collections, and prided himself in possessing such rare specimens of ancient and inediveval art that none other could obtain. Upon these he plsced such an extraordinary value as appeared fabulous. He would sit for hours and gloat over his treasures. There were people, however, who rememberei Braham young and handsome; he was even then ardent in business, but he met honour- able men, and was accounted honourable himself; as his cupidity increased, his actions became less and less legitimate, until his character changed, and his fea. tures also, for his countenance now forcibly disclosed the nature of his mind—it was cold, forbidding, and mercenary. > Poor Harrison had been repeatedly informed ot the early habits of his master, and old customers would recount even kind and generous actions performed by him. As he walked from the doctor's room after the interview we have recorded in a previous chapter, he tried to picture to himself old Braham a good and honourable man; and for an hour he strolled up and down the streets meditating, until the church clocks striking twelve reminded him that it was time to seek rest. When he reached his humble cot he still meditated, and he recalled the events of the past years before he could fall into sleep. Then his mind reverted to himself, and he recalled that day, when, a vagabond in the streets, he picked out of the mud a splendid something, he knew not what, and found himself suddenly in the clutch, con. fronted by the glaring eyes of what might have been a tiger-but it proved to be a man. This man accused him of theft. Ragamuffin as he was, he justified himself, and pleaded innocence of crime, and was forthwith adopted into the service of the jeweller. What peculiar fitness was discovered in him at that instant for such a vocation he could not comprehend. How strangely this old man's aspect had changed since Ross Harrison came thus into his service How rapidly it had changed. Ross could have counted the steps by which the enthusiast had passed over into the dominion of monomaniacs. But let the reader be informed Braham had one child-a daughter. She was the child of his old age- beautiful, simple-hearted, pure. She had grown up under her father's eyes. His treasures were all under one roof. Below was the shop, the safe, the vault. Above the home, in which was his daughter. She was left in his hands an infant, motherless at three years of age. He bad done all that a cruafcy old parent could be 6xpected to do. But nature bad done more. Nature unfolded a character of such rare gentleness, tenderness, grace, as man or woman could not fail to love. Old Braham loved her well. But then he was a mal: who had more than one idea. He had two. His treasures and his daughter. If he must choose among his possessions, he would wrestle with every adversary of man in her behalf. But then he had her; felt secure; and having her, he merely fell back on her as some men fall back on the thought of God-in ex- tremity. The first year of Harrison's employment in Braham's servioe, the house took fire one night, and was burned to the ground. >■ Having secured his precious stock of coins, medals, Jewels, and tools, Braham stood by unconcerned- his household gooes might perish, for his idols were safe, and he was insured. Not so thought his daughter. He supposed her safe in the house of a friend-instead of this, however, she was flitting through the rooms, lading herself with relics, even when dangers threatened her on all sides. Like a fairy she was rushing hither and thither in the midst of flames. At length she was visible to the eye of Ross Harri- son. He saw her on the uppermost step of the burn- ing stair, and ran to her rescue. He brought her down from death, and he felt from that moment that she was his for life. From her unconscious hand he took the g»m.ancireled shekel she had picked up from the floor of her fatbo*'a closet on her way to the stair. And again old Braham sna.tohed from Ross that trea- sure which had years bef or & formed the connecting1 link between him and his master. This time anger appeared in the place of fear on young Harrison's face. He began to feel a wrong, as if he had been robbed. But Braham was Naomi's father. Not long after the fire, a gentleman came into Braham's new shop. ■ Braham was there alone. But in a solitary room adjoining, Ross sat polishing medals. It was simply impassible that he should avoid hear. iag the conversation that passed between his master and the stranger. This gentleman it seemed, was in search of a rare com ne had ioSt. The particularity of his description left no aoubt in the mind of Ross that this was the very com with whiah, as it were, he had bought his present p spenty. For he was now no longer a vagrant-he growing into manhood, into a know- ledge ef business, into respectability. He had never u once seen the coin Braham robbed him ox appropriation was nothing but a robbery Coiild Qot hay0 described it with any exactneas Butea-l* Wd -t described he knew his master urald report thereof to the stranger.. He was therefore ennous to know whether Braham ^ould produce the missing treasure. This, thought the young man, he would certainly do, ° Of course, the reader thinks so too. Not he. The old man was full of interest — of concern. He could appreciate such a loss certainly He might be relied on if search could recover the coin, he had a system of detection that was nearly perfect. It should be brought to bear on this case. If the shekel were within a hundred miles, it would, doubt. less, oome into his hands. He was full of hope, so he took the gentleman's card, and the interview closed with encouraging, courteous words, and great promise^ of reward. He professed not to know that he was a nr. neighbour, bat Boas Harrison knew it well, and so Q"i his master. Instantly on departure, Mr. Braham turned the key in its lock, ana walked into the closet that had been occupied by RO.e Harrison. NoRoss was there. I here was anxious uncertainty visible upon the old v ew's countenan ce. He looked about him suspiciously, ^easily; then he ran to t^, door of the atair that led ^to the cellar, listened, woxdered# Had he pursued aw investigations down the ^aira and through the *•1 would still have been unsuccessful search. OM™^a become of Ross ? He had taken himself of the closet and hidden himself „ huildinsr far Cny' 80Cretfc8 datge%3 for a man to and he had his way to make. resides, he loved Naomi Braham. hi r. beauty and gentleness had positively enchanted Vrh*5 *aot' was deeply in love. Was it her father 'stood dishonoured before the young lover'a eyes fro himself away from the discovery of the truth' Partnership in the evil—from other degradation J^h might have fallen upon both their heads. in fl ° i!as k°Boura,ble enough to seek safety from shame ^ish t ke trembled as he ran. He did not or f *ac.s the danger in broad daylight, and stand Th ¥ heart should determine. l°ve ° -R wouhl have been, if for honour against W COulc* he choose P Love has oome to be ^„QOI?'?lon "word. We use it to express the heart w WorshIp and adoration of which Harrison's keartwno0 fVan(^ a^oration of which Harrison's rags fiHK Can For him who had lived amongst 11 i a., manner of abomination, to live near to Naomi Braham, to work under the same roof that sheltered her, was an exaltation that in his early life he never dreamed of. And so he ran away from an investigation that, oae way or another, must have proved fatal. For her sake, the idol of his heart, he would sacrifice anything. What was Ross to do when he came out of hIS hiding-place ? i i. He had the consciousness, for many a day, that his master suspected him—watched him. He felt that his foot was in a trap, that his hand was in a vice, and that a millstone hung about his neck. At length he gained self-possession, and so well did he bear himself through scrutiny, that the suspicion of the old man's mind ceased to indicate itself in any way. It finally ceased to exist. « n These things Ross Harrison had to thmk of during his midnight reflections. On his finger gleamed the serpent-crested carbuncle. Here he stood now, pledged to restore. He felt him. self to be under a suspicion. Iu was to him a curious state of things. If he betrayed his master, he sacrI. ficed all hopes of happiness, for he would assuredly lose that which was dearer to him than life, whilst conscience told him that, it he withheld his knowledge from Dr. David he was a culpable wretch.

CHAPTER III. There's no royal road to greatness; Men must ever climb to fame: All the wealth in misers, coffers Wouldn't buy a deathless name. Is a noble goal before you ? Would you great achievements dare Brother, then, be up and doing- Brother, you must win and wear." T. MILLS. ONE day, not long after Harrison had undertaken this mission, the old jeweller was seized with a sudden and dangerous illness. He lay on his bed with the expec- tation of death in his heart, for never in the course of his long life had he been ccmpelled to yield to sick- ness, or surrender himself into the hands of a physician. Harrison, of course, recommended Dr. David, but Braham would not hear of it. He thought that if Dr. David stood upon his threshold it would kill him outright. Why? the reader might ask. Braham and the doctor had never quarrelled. They had never differed on any subject. Yet there was an unaccount- able enmity between them. All things are npt visible; all realities are not tangible. Braham knew more about Dr. David than his assistant supposed. Believing, however, that the end was at hand, one thing above others concerned Braham-the disposi- tion of his idols. It was briefly done. He had long since decided that Ross should be heir to the secrets that would not die with him. He would leave every- thing to his daughter, and his daughter to Ross Harrison. Now he was at ease-now he could sleep-now he believed he should recover. During his slow recovery, while the tedious hours dragged heavily along, Braham bethought him, not for the first time, but probably for the hundredth, of the chief among his treasures. On that darling of his heart, which he procured at mighty cost, after a search of years, he would feast his eyes once more. Procured at mighty cost, we said. He had then purchased it ? Yes. At as much as his hope of eternal happiness was worth. He had stolen and lied, and never thought of repentance. Through life he had felt DO fear except of discovery-we should rather say of loss. Discovery was not his dread; dishonour was not. Loss was. Naomi, his daughter, sat in the room. Her father called her to his bedside. She came across the scantily-furnished, and withal unat- tractive, though cleanly room, and stood beside him. He found some diinculty, it seemed, in making known his wish, so she laid her hand upon the coverlet, as if to signify a nearness that ventured not to advance beyond this in signs of tenderness. At last he said:— "(Jo down stairs, child, to the closet over the mantel-shelf." ( Where, father ? For how should she know of a | closet, over the mantel-shelf ? His mind, she feared, was wandering. In the rosflm there. Move the old eiook," said he, ailnoyed at the necessity of an explanation he had taken sueh precaution to render unavoidable. Move the old clock, I say, and you'll find what I want on the lowest shelf. There's nothing else but that there." Naomi did not stay to question farther. She de- scended to the family room. It was separated merely by a narrow passage from the shop. Boss heard her come down the stairs; light though her step fell he heard.it. Prove it was impossible. Still he knew that she was near. When he entered the room she was standing, like an innocent girl, looking at the old clock on the mantel- shelf. It was very heavy. Doubtless, unassisted she might have effected its removal. Nevertheless, she smiled when she saw Ross. He never, came too soon. If Braham had died, these two would have been his heirs. There would then have been no secret in all this intricate mysterious business that they might not ex- plore together. There was no secret now in Naomi's keeping that Ross might not share. Her father was to her mind uprightness, integrity, and honour. There could be no reason in her mind why she should not place confidence in Ross, and he was delighted to assist one that he loved more than his own life. He commenced his task at once. He sounded the wall, looked for a loose board; at last he spied a crack—the firm wall yielded to his pressure, it slid away, an iron safe was revealed. Not an exclamation, either of sur- prise or satisfaction, escaped them. With the key she gave him Ross unlocked the safe, found the coin, which he handed her together with the key of the in. visible cupboard, and she went up to her father. Ross Harrison walked back into the shop with his hands clasped behind him, they were clenched to- gether, and the heavy ring with its serpent crest bruised the poor fellow's fingers. He unolasped his hands and looked at them. They had just held the coin of Barchoehebus. The shekel, gem-circled, flash- ing. But it carried no stain of mud. The dust that had lodged in its orevices was doubtless the sacred duat of centuries. One day not long after this event-for surely the discovery Ross had made must be classed among events-Naomi said to him- Dear, what is the story of that curious ugly ring P Everything seems to have a story." Do you call that an ugly ring ? asked Ross, and there was more of tenderness than wonder in his voice. I suppose it's because of the device I can't bear to see it on your finger." Will you not wear it, then ? Now he aekesi this as one questions of an oracle. Would she smile on that task he had undertaken? Would she hold him to it ? She started back with a shudder. Her face, he thought, grew pale. "No," she said, hastily, "no indeed. Where did you get it?" I undertook a service for a man. And this is the sign of it. If the sign is disagreeable, so is the service." Why did you undertake it then ? t< I was in his debt in various ways.' it. Tliell, if you hate debt, as I do, you'll get out of 1 *a very hard to do." l(-J^ngerous?" May be. What then ? Are we bound to do our duty in every emergency, I wonder ? Now, Naomi, I must take your advice. Tell me, must I perform a duty r Oh! is it a duty ? Irnrni kfV0 worn this ring a long while, aDw/^ Jf..n ,me °f becomes clearer." "Conscience will teach you wkat j .» I am afraid so. 6 Afraid of consciedce-&fraid of doing what is just, right, and honourable r What can you mean ? Should I always act according to the dictates of conscience ? Yes. An honest heart never deoeives you Then the question is settled ?" "I would not own any man,said Naomi, with a proud curl of her lip, whose life and actions belied his conscience," and she walked away. After she had left the room, Ross put his hand to his head, and silently muttered— Thou AUwise Dispenser of events, teach me to pursue an honest course of action, so that, with all the frowns of the world, I may have a clear con- science." (To be continued-) •

A lazy fellow begged alms, saying that he could not find bread for his family. "Nor I," replied an industrious mechanic, "I am obliged to work for it."

I A RAMBLERS JOTTINGS. LONDON is very slow at this season of the year. Rotten-row is almost deserted, and the clubs have only the few members whose business obliges them to remain in town. But the speculative world is as active as ever. New companies are being formed day after day to work out every conceivable object, and touting for shares is one of the many profitable engagements of persons who live by their wits. A new idea, has cropped out within the last few days—viz., to make the "poor diners-out" agents in business. The Fall Mall Gazette is accountable for the following paragraph:— "We beg to call the attention of well-connected diners-out of limited means to the following ad- vertisment which appears daily in the Times:- 'Increase of income, without risk or outlay.— Gentlemen of good standing may add very con- siderably to their incomes without any publicity and without detriment to their social position. None need apply who have not some business tact, and a fair circle of respectable friends. For further particulars address, &c., under initials if preferred, although every communication will be held in strict confidence.' We understand that it emanates from the Wine Company (Limited), which are seeking, by means of secret agents diffused throughout the best society, to create for itself a vast West-end connection. In selecting their agents the company are said to give a preference to persons connected, or de- cidedly intimate, with the nobility, and to in- fluential members of good clubs, especially if they are committee-men. A list of the customers of the company is supplied to each agent, who is required, whenever he dines at their houses, to express in the most ecstatic terms his approval of the wines set before him, and to inquire eagerly where and on what terms such nectar can be pro- cured. On the other hand, when the agent dines at houses not supplied by the company, he is to decry and disparage by every means which good society will permit the wines set before him, and to mention incidentally the vastly superior vin- tages which can be obtained at very moderate prices from the Wine Company. Applicants for these agencies are required to forward their dinner engagement-books for the preceding season, in order that their true currency in fashionable society may be satisfactorily ascertained. The commission allowed is extremely liberal, and the strictest secrecy may be depended upon." Paris, I am informed, is nearly as empty of aris- tocracy as London, but French people never will be dull; they have always some new idol to fol- low, and the fashionable parts of Paris, when not thronged with the Upper Ten, have thousands of handsomely-dressed persons perambulating the thoroughfares. I remember some years ago that the; idol of the day was a beautiful lady, who paraded in a carriage and four, dressed in scarlet, and with coachman and footman of the Lilliputian stamp. At length, however, she had imitators, and then the novelty ceased. Thinking of this, I asked a Frenchman the other day what was the novelty now ? "Oh," he said, Teresa, La Belle Teresa." The crowds that bow to this lady every day, he told me, was extraordinary. At a short distance from the Bois de Boulogne, in a par- tially retired spot, is erected a kind of temporary theatre, and at some uncertain hour during the evening a blazing light of gas, with the words "Alcazar d'Ete," isdisplayedthroughthejets. Five minutes after this the beautiful creature makes her appearance on the outside, dressed in the gayest! costume, and having bowed repeatedly to the crowd without, she retreats behind the multitu- dinous mass of rocks and the terrific waterfalls represented on the pasteboard screens; then away go the promenaders back to their fashionable haunts. The rush which takes place towards the Alcazar at the moment of the apparition, must be seen to be appreciated," said my friend. The lady is quite unknown among the masses; when it is discovered who she is, the novelty will be lost, but at the present time it answers the purpose of the cafes in the neighbourhood, and tke small theatre, the admission to which is a franc each. My friend also told me another little cir- cumstance connected with French affairs, which shows the despotism which is exercised in this country. It appears that the Government have an authority over the telegraph as well as other things, and no message is permitted to be trans- mitted but such as the authorities approve of; even the markets, especially the money transac- tions, are not allowed to be sent from Paris to Marseilles, as it is presumed such messages would have an effect upon Government stock. A broker in Paris, however, hit upon this expedient to let his agent in Marseilles know what to do concern- ing a certain stock in which he was interested. One message would run, "Marie is very ill, must have medical advice;" next day, Marie is worse, a limb must be amputated;" again, Marie is improving, no need of amputation;" then would come something to this effect, Marie's limb must still be amputated." The Government officials detected that by Marie was meant certain Govern- ment stock, and therefore the clerks were obliged to refuse to receive any further communications. Shortly after this a gentleman who had a wife named Marie, wished to report the state of her. health to her friends, and went to the telegraph office for that purpose, where he was laughed at, the clerks telling him that they knew who Marie was. The wife died, and certain contingent in- terests which might have been settled if promptly attended to were not effected; consequently the gentleman is now sueing the company for damages. To country friends who may be visiting London during these holiday times, perhaps a list of the museums, galleries, &c., most worthy of notice may be useful:— BBITISH MUSEUM.—Open to the public on Mon- days, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Permission to see Reading Room can be obtained by applying at the Librarian's Office. Ten to six. Great Rus- sell-street. GEOLOGICAL MUSEUM. Open daily. Jermyn- street. j j GREENWICH HOSPITAL.-HAU and Chapel open daily from ten to seven. Mondays and Fridays free; other days, 3d. HOUSES OF P ARLIAMENT.-Daily, between ten and four. Tickets at the Lord Chamberlain's Office, Westminster, en Saturdays, between eleven and four. ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL.—Daily, except during Divine service. The crypt, in which are deposited the mortal remains of the Duke of Wellington, Lord Nelson, &c., 6d. each. SIR JOHN SOANE'S MUSEUM.—Open on Thurs- days and Fridays during April, May, and June, and on Tuesdays, from February 1 to August 31. 13, Lincoln's-inn-fields, W.C. TOWER OF LONDON.—Historical Antiquities— Regalia or Armoury. Ten till four. Armoury, 6d. Regalia, 6d. Tower-hill. UNITED SERVICE MUSEUM.—Military and Naval Museum. Admission, by member's order, from eleven till five. SOUTH KENSINGTON MusEum.-Exhibition of Portrait Miniatures, now open. Free on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Saturdays, from ten a.m. to ten p.m., and on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, from ten a.m. to six p.m. Admission, 6d. Brompton.

WHOLESALE MURDER. A shocking affair came to light on Wednesday in the neighbourhood of Holborn. On Monday, a billiard-marker, named Ernest Southey, took apart. ments at the Star Coffee-house, in Red Lion-street, for three little boys, of the respective ages of six, eight, and ten years. They slept there the same evening, and the next day Southey came and fetched them away, as he said, for a walk in the park. After being out with them for three or four hours he brought them back, and saw them to bed; one of them sleeping in the room numbered 8, and the other two ia No. 6. He locked the doors, gave the key to a servant, and said he should be back in the morning. As he did not keep his word, the proprietor of the coffee-house at length began to feel uneasy; he therefore called in the police, the rooms were opened, and all three chil- dren were found to be dead. It is impossible to exaggerate the painful sensation which was caused by this discovery. Medical assistance was called in, but it was of course useless. It may be stated, however, that, so far as an opinion could be formed without a regular post-mortem examination, the poor children appeared to have been poisoned with prussic acid. At twelve o'clock on Wednesday night a reward of £100 for the apprehension of Southey was offered by the Secretary of State for the Home Department. The Ripposed murderer is thus described :—" Age, between 55 and 40 years; by profession a billiard-marker; height, 5 feet 7 inches; hair dark; eyes, dark grey; no whiskers, but a beard of several days' growth. Dressed in dark clothes, and a vest buttoned up to the chin; a black shabby-looking scarf." Pending the inquest, not much trustworthy informa- tion can be obtained. It is stated, however, that the deceased were the children of a Mrs. White, who, it may be remembered, some time ago took proceedings sgainst the Earl of Dudley for an alleged assault. She has since, it is said, been separated from her husband and living with Southey.

MURDER IN TIPPERARY. A crime of a terrible nature has just been committed in the very centre of the town of Tipperary, and while the people thronging the streets were erjgaared in their ordinary daily business. A man named Dowdle, re- siding near the town, came to attend the funeral of a friend, and, as he was walking behind the hearse, in company with his wife, he was struck from behind three blows with a "loaded" blackthorn stick, ferruled with a long iron ring, and wedged also with iron. The man who struck these murderous blows cried out, I" Here's a three. year. o id! and then ran into a shop belonging to a relative. The l wife attempted to save the husband, and warded off one blow. The wounded man walked into a r eigh- j bouring house, and asked leave to sit down. He did not remain long, but went out to the yard, where he fell insensible, and died in a few hours. A neighbour of his own, William Condon, was arrested, and infor- mationd have been sworn before Mr. De Gernon, R.M., charging him with being the person who inflicted the injuries from which Dowdle lost bis life. The inquest upon the body of James Dowdle was commenced on Tuesday, but was adjourned for a fort- night. The wife of the deceased, who swore directly before the resident magistrate against William Con- don, was in a state which prevented her examination. She appeared most reluctant to give any evidence. Condon has not been fully committed, but remanded for further examination.

THE MURDER OF A CHILD IN LEICES- TERSHIRE. The woman Eliza Adkins, who has been charged with having murdered her child, Zadok Adkins, by thrusting is into a well, at Pegg's Green, near Ashiiy- de-la-Zonch, has confessed to having perpetrated the crime. She sent for the wife of the inspector of the police-station where she is confined, and, after getting her to write some letters for her, with many tears made the following statement:—"It is trouble that has brought me to this. I did not know what to do with the child. I had no home, nothing to eat, and no friend to go to. I could get a situation for myself, but not if I had the child. So I did not know what to do with it. That is what has driven me to it. But I know the poor thing is in heaven now, out of all its suffering. I wish you to tell the magistrates that it is poverty and distress that has driven me to do what I have done. I was in a situation, and my child was at the time at my sister's, but my sister said she could not keep it without some recompense. I then applied to the Loughborough Union, and asked them to give me 2s. a week to keep the child on, and nothing for myself. But they would not, and told me I must go into the workhouse and bring the child with me. I went in last Saturday week, but the treatment was so bad I could not stay. I was constantly hearing the child cry, and on one occasion I went and looked at it and talked to it through some bars which separated us. They saw me speaking to the child, when they dragged it away from me, beat it, and kept me without my supper. I was therefore determined to leave, and came out the next (Friday) msrning, and walked to Whitwick. I had no money nor no food to give the child, and did not know where to go, and that is the cause of what I have done." These particulars have been deposed to before the magistrates, and the pri- soner, is formally committed for trial.

THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF'S REPORT ON THE WIMBLEDON REVIEW. The Duke of Cambridge, Commander-in-Chief, has addressed the following letter to the Secretary of War concerning the anuual Volunteer Review which closed the meeting this year of the National Rifle Associa- tion, on the 22nd ult., at Wimbledon. Subjoined is Lord de Grey and Ripon's reply. Horse Guards, July 25, 1865. My Lord,—I have to inform your lordship that the Annual Volunteer Review took place under my immediate direction on Saturday last, the 22nd inst., at Wimbledon. The muster was considerable—9,143 of all ranks, with 24 guns, These numbers are much less, however, than what had been announced as the probable force on the ground, and I cannot help regretting that corps do not turn out somewhat stronger on parade on such occasions. "Everything passed off most satisfactorily. The drill of the battalions has, I think, improved since last year, though I am of opinion that even yet more battalion drill is needed in many instances. The marching past was creditable, and the movements, though few in number, were performed in a manner evincing intelligence and an aptitude for military evolutions. There is only one subjeot which I must notice with regret, and which is the late arrival of the corps. These were ordered to be on the ground at 4.30, so as to be prepared for commencing to manoeuvre at five o'clock. At that hour, however, hardly a corps had arrived at all events none had got into position, and it was 6.30 before the movements could commence. The result was, that every evolution had to be per- formed in a hurried manner, as darkness was fast ap- proaching; and, indeed, it was beginning to be dark before the marching past could be concluded Whoever is to blame in the matter, I do hope that steps may for the future be taken to allow these gatherings to take place at such an hour as to enable a certain number of evolutions to be performed with steadiness, and without undue hurry "It would be far better for the object in view, as regards gaining military knowledge, and far more ac- cel, I f e]f nIrMn1! volunteers themselves, to take Part in a field day which need not be curtailed for want of time to carry out the intended movements. -1 remain, &c., tv i TiSi^ned) "GEORGE- Jul0 R^ht Hon. Earl de Grey and Ripon. War-office, Aug. 3,1865."

The Long Vacation."—The long vacation commenced on the 10th inst. It will terminate on the 24th October. It is anticipated that several legal changes will take place before Michaelmas term in November. According to a provision in a recent Act of Parliament no judges of the county courts can suspend the sittings of their courts during the month of September. In the superior courts during the recess causes in which pleas are allowed must stand over until next term. In actions under the Bills of Exohange Act leave must be obtained from a judge to appear and plead, otherwise judgment can be signed in a few days. Mr. Justice Montague Smith, being the last appointed judge, will sit at chambers, on his return from circuit, twice in each week during the long vacation.

A MISERLY THIEF. A man named William Yem, living at Plymouth, has been sentenced to one month's imprisonment for steal- ing an ounce of tea, value 3d., from the. shop of a grocer. The prisoner is a most determined miser. On searching his house, which is in a most filthy state, the police discovered 153 sovereigns and a spade guinea. He seems to have had, besides his love for money, a remarkable fancy for carpenters' tools, broken boxes, and barrels, for in his room was found of these articles nearly a wagon load, Tnev were placed in such positions, and so scattered about the place, that the police found it difficult to pass from one room to another. There were besides a lot of old coal and blacking-boxes, and other rubbish that appeared to have been collected fromash- heaps, lying about the house. The sovereigns and the guinea were found in an old blacking box. Prisoner is a tailor by trade, but he gave his occupation to the police as a labourer. He had been in custody on two previous occasions, and both offences were indicative of his miserly and peculiar habits. On one occasion he was in custody for stealing a piece of coal from a wagon, and on another for stealing one of those articles he appears to have such a fancy for- an old empty barrel, from the Cheese Market. He has been in the habit of allowing himself scarcely suffi- cient to sustain life, and he was well known to be of parsimonious habits but it was not supposed he had such a sum of money in his possession. The money will, of course, be returned to him on his leaving gaol.

A Man and a Brother.-An ingenious plan has been adopted by the Boston negroes for raising the wind." Last winter, the Legislature of Massachusetts passed a law, fining every landlord the sum of fifty dollars who refused to allow his negro boarders to sit at the same table with the white ones. A good deal of money has been extorted in Boston by taking ad- vantage of this law. The negroes stop at the hotels, demand places at the public tables, and when they are refused remind the landlords of the penalty, offering- to commute it for five cr ten dollars.