ar it is only another significant sign of these most porntous times. The protracted sieges must have tried its nstitution sorely, and there has been no sufficient reacon to restore its flagging animation. The cost of one of ese great restaurants is enormous, nor can it reduce exenses materially without compromising its character. mense rent; heavy taxes; chefs whose names are suposed to bear their price; the chef principal, the chef tremettier, the rôtisseur, &c.; wine butlers who must be pable and responsible; majors domo and waiters who ight carry clients with them were they suffered to go vay discontented; ladies of looks and financial ability r the counter; a troop of subordinates, in sight and out it a profusion of fine linen continually renewed; plate, ystal, and cutlery, dit.o; waste to be covered in the more elicate provisions that will not keep for to-morrow; and st, and very far from least, the cellars. A restaurant of enown must be literally based upon a quantity of sunken pital. If you drink your old wines without replacing em, you are draining your establishment's life-blood. We can fancy the feelings of the masters of the Trois rères when it became a question of retrenching on the agnificent style of their world-famed house, and tamperng with the spotless name transmitted by a line of noble ncestors. It had stooped to purvey catsmeat and ratflesh; had been constrained to cater for messieurs of the Comune, who had a way of setting the addition with a look Ta dreat. The sacrifices and compromises had gone for othing, and the day had come when it must die, if it were o die with decency. It has fallen draped decorously in ts mantle, and we fear its fall is ominous of the general truggle for existeace in uxurious Paris.

THE Lord Chief Justice must have often thought of that well-known case since his acquaintance with the claimant o the Tichborne property. It is a curious coincidence hat the leading counsel for the notorious Tom Provis hould be the judge in the next most celebrated case of he century. When his Lordship's memory went back to the famous trial there was another person in court who played a leading part in the Gloucestershire drama. The olicitors who opposed the claim of Tom Provis to the exensive estates or the Smythes of Ashton Court, estimated £20,000 to £30,000 a year, were Messrs. Palmer & Wansey, of Bristol. Mr. Palmer, the head of the firm, has ong since retired from practice, but has been a constant tendant in court during the Tichborne trial. The Judge On the occasion of the trial at the Gloucestershire assizes was Lord Chief Justice Coleridge, the attorney-general's ather. Time plays curious freaks at the bar.

People who remember the case of the assumed Sir Richard Sayche pretend to trace a parallel between that case and the Ti liborne trial, but the only association between the two is their remarkable character. Whether the claiman: in the Tichborne case is an impostor or the true Sir Roger, he is altogether a different person to the notorious

Tom Provis.

The only excuse we can have for reviewing the strange story of the Gloucestershire baronetey at this time is on the ground of the Lord Chief Justice's reference to it, and the public appetite for any thing and every thing which can be said to have the slightest association with the Tichborne romance. The case is reported at length in the Times of 1853 and 1854, for Tom Provis, after the failure of his claim in the civil side, was arrested and

taken to the criminal court to stand his trial for perjury and forgery. Sir Bernard Burke, in his "Vicissitudes of Families," has also given a well-written summary of the case, from which and the Times's reports and other sources we venture to narrate this twice-told tale.

The Smythes of Ashton Court (a beautiful residence on the river at Clifton) are a good old English family. They first settled upon their present estate in the fifteenth century. Hugh Smythe, son of Thomas Smythe, M.P. for the county of Somerset, 1634, was created a baronet for his loyal services by Charles I. The family papers are said to include many very interesting documents of that period, and the muniment-room at Ashton Court gives every evidence of the careful preservation of the family records in each successive generation. At the commencement of this century, Sir John Hugh Smythe, baronet, was in possession of the estates. in 1802 he died without issue, and was succeeded by his nephew, Sir Hugh Smythe, eldest son of Thomas Smythe, of Stapleton, Gloucestershire. Although he was twice married, Sir Hugh was known to have no issue by either wife. In 1824 he was succeeded by his only brother, the late Sir John Smythe, baronet, who, dying without issue in 1849, left his eldest sister Clarence, the wife of John Upton, Esq., of Westmoreland, in full possession of the family estates. Her son, Thomas Upton, died during her lifetime, and in 1852 the property come to her grandson, John Hey Greville Upton, a minor, who, dropping the name of Upton, assumed the name and arms of Smythe, by royal license, and he was afterwards, when he came to age, restored to the family title and dignity of baronet. At the death of Mrs. Clarence Smythe in 1852, Mrs. Upton made her son a ward of the Court of Chancery, and placed the estates in the hands of her brother, M. Arthur Way (afterwards member for Bath), who was appointed receiver of the Ashton-Court estates by the Lord Chancellor.

Mr. Way had hardly entered upon his duties when he received a letter, dated Bristol, Sept. 8, 1852, from Thomas Rodman, Esq., of Wellington, "the deputy steward of Sir Richard Smythe, baronet, Somerset," claiming the estates, forbidding the destruction of deer in the park, requesting Mr. Way to consider himself a trespasser, and informing him that Sir Richard Smythe had that day taken possession in person of Heath house, at Stapleton, and that he would in future consider Mr. Way's visits at that house or lands a trespass. Mr. Way was speedily treated to the next chapter of the extraordinary story thus inaugurated. Joseph Turvey, an old servant of the family, presented himself from Heath house, the family mansion in Gloucestershire, with the following information. Two suspicious-looking men had called at Heath house on the previous afternoon and requested to see the establishment. Turvey, not unaccustomed to visits of this character, had commenced to show them over the house. When the old servitor pointed out the picture of Sir Hugh Smythe, one of the visitors, suddenly exclaiming, "O my beloved father!" prostrated himself before the painting, and informed the astonished Joseph that he was the owner of the estates. Unable to

The

restrain himself, Joseph exclaimed, "Now I tell ye what it is; I've known the family, man and boy, this fifty year, and I've never seen the likes of you among 'em, and if you don't just clear out, I'll kick ye out, and that's all about it;" whereon the visitors thought discretion the better part of valor and disappeared. On this very day the pretended Sir Richard Smythe and his solicitor, Mr. Rodham, presented themselves at Ashton Court. Mr. Way received them, and after sarcastically complimenting " Sir Richard on his baronetcy, desired the fullest information. solicitor made a long rambling explanation, after which "Sir Richard" requested that the household should be discharged to enable him to bring in his own servants. He asked for the keys, and said he would allow Mr. Way two hours to take his departure. Mr. Way, having been a patient listener, now remarked, "I must now request your attention to what I say. You have come here in the face of day to perpetrate a robbery of no ordinary kind. case so monstrous I can make no distinction between solici

In a

tor and client. You must both leave the house within the minute, or be prepared to take the consequences." They remonstrated. Mr. Way remained unmoved. The minute had hardly expired when he rang the bell. The servants entered, carried off "Sir Richard" and his client, “legs and arms," and deposited them outside the house.

Little further was heard of the new baronet until the following spring, when a well-known solicitor, Mr. Cattlin, began to act for "Sir Richard." The new solicitor served the tenantry with notices to account to no one but himself, "the agent of Sir Richard," but only one of the tenants was led into following his course. Rumor soon gave out that Sir Richard had come into possession of important documents establishing his claim, and he grew in favor. Whereas a short time previously he was a pauper, he was now in possession of St. Vincent's Priory, Clifton, with a person who styled herself Lady Smythe presiding at his table. Tradesmen crowded round him, foreseeing great custom, and were not only willing but eager to advance him money. Sir Richard and Lady Symthe went on Sundays to the church followed by a lackey carrying the family Bible. Mr. Way was served with a writ of ejectment by Mr. Cattlin to regain possession of Heath House, Stapleton and Elmington Farm, both in the county of Gloucester. The family solicitors, Messrs. Palmer & Wansey, were informed that Mr. Cattlin was in possession of a will that rendered the title of Sir Richard Smythe beyond doubt. Mr. Way and Mr. Palmer sought inspection of this will, and convinced themselves that it was a barefaced forgery, and were satisfied that it was the work of "Sir Richard" himself, seeing that the misspelling corresponded with the misspelling in letters of the plaintiff's. Mr. Way and his solicitors began to prepare for the trial. A detective was set to watch Mr. Cattlin's offices. Mr. Field acting for the defence, commenced his labors of tracing the pedigree of the plaintiff. Mr. Way (who was well qualified for his task, having acted as a justice of the peace in New South Wales) went to Ireland to make inquiries in the neighborhood of Court MacSherry, where, according to the plaintiff's case, Sir Hugh Symthe had married his (plaintiff's) mother, Hesther Gookin, in 1796. "Sir Richard " had been there before him, and at the Earl of Bandon's had reported that "an illegitimate heir had got possession of his vast estates." The alleged marriage with Hesther Gookin proved to be a fabrication, that lady never having existed. Mr. Field was equally successful in his researches. He not only discovered that the plaintiff was not Sir Richard Symthe, but found out who he was.

When the trial came on for hearing at the Gloucester Summer Assizes, Aug. 8, 1853, there was great excitement throughout the shire, and in fact throughout the country. Mr. Justice Coleridge presided as Judge; Mr. Bovill, Q.C., Mr. Dowdeswell and Mr. Phipson appeared for the plaintiff; and Sir Frederick Thesiger, Q.C., Mr. Crowder, Q.C., Mr. Alexander, Q.C., Mr. Tufnell, and Mr. Gray, for the defence. Mr. Bovill, in opening the case, explained that at the death of Sir Hugh Smythe the estates passed to his brother, Sir John Smythe, and that plaintiff came to a knowledge of his rights by going to Sir John in 1849, and informing him of his relationship to the deceased, Sir Hugh Smythe. The news so affected the Baronet that he died the next morning. The learned counsel said that for want of funds plaintiff had been prevented from asserting his right to the property, but that now it would be established beyond doubt that he was the son of Sir Hugh Smythe, by Jane, the daughter of Count Vandenbergh, to whom he was married in 1796 in Ireland. The entry of the marriage in a family Bible would be proved. A brooch would be produced with the name of Jane Gookin upon it, together with her portrait. She had died in childbirth, and Sir Hugh Smythe being anxious to marry the daughter of the Bishop of Bristol, Miss Wilson, the plaintiff's birth was kept a secret, and he was brought up in the house of a carpenter named Provis, at Westminster. It was this that had given rise to the report that plaintiff was an impostor. Mr. Bovill further argued that a man named Grace, Sir Hugh's butler, had informed Sir Hugh that his son had gone

abroad and was dead. A letter was produced as having been written by Sir Hugh to his wife on the eve of her confinement, wishing her a safe delivery. The case went on to prove that in 1819 Sir Hugh was married again to a Miss Howell, and at this time Sir Hugh, believing his son to be alive, executed a document declaring the plaintiff to be his son, and that the document was discovered in the possession of Lydia Reed, the plaintiff's nurse, and that it was signed by Sir Hugh Smythe and Sir John Smythe, his brother. It was purported to have been discovered in the possession of an attorney's clerk in London. In the narrative of the personal career of plaintiff it was alleged that he had gone abroad and given himself up to study until his return in 1826, when he became a lecturer on mnemonies. He suspected he was the rightful heir, but circumstances prevented him taking the necessary steps until 1849. The learned counsel intimated that the main fact in the case would be that Sir Hugh Smythe was married in Ireland, and that the plaintiff was the issue of that marriage. The learned counsel narrated the plaintiff's story with remark able force and eloquence, making a telling appeal to the jury, on account of the difficulties his client had to encounter in prosecuting his case against an opponent so formidable as the defendant. He complained that the defendant's agents had intimidated his witnesses, but he nevertheless had confidence in their coming forward and attesting the truth. Nothing could appear more honest and just than the plaintiff's claim, as Mr. Bovill set it forth from his clear and admirably-drawn instructions. It was a case, too, which might well excite the sympathy of a high-minded gentleman like the present Chief Justice; but he and his brethren in the case were destined to be cruelly sold by this ill-used heir, who had been brought up by a carpeater when he should have been enjoying the comforts and luxuries of his high position. The plaintiff being called into the box related his extraordinary story, swearing that the will of the late Sir Hugh Smythe had reached him in a brown paper parcel from London from one "Frederick Crane," whom he had never seen. The will was sealed with a stal containing the arms of the Smythe family, with the motto "Qui Capit capitor." The case went on for some tine most prosperously. The result looked like a certainty bor the claimant. There was great excitement in court when Sir Frederick Thesiger rose to cross-examine him. The learned counsel shook some of the strong points that had been laid down, but nothing of a startling nature transpired until plaintiff's further cross-examination on Aug. 10, when he denied that he ever went by the name of Provis or that he had ever said John Provis, of Warminster, lately of Frome, was his father, or had ever claimed kindred with Mr. Provis, the manager of the Yeovil bank. He said he had only been married once, and that the name of his wife was Ashton. Sir F. Thesiger then handed him a letter which he had written to Miss Clarence Smythe, in which the plaintiff stated, "I have a second wife." Plaintiff explained that he might have meant a young wife, but Le was soon after obliged to admit his second marriage by the name of "Mr. Thomas Provis." He admitted that he had applied to Mr. Moring, a seal engraver in Holborn, and ordered some seals to be engraved; but did not on the occasion order a steel seal to be made according to pattern, which he brought with the crest, garter, and motto of the Smythes of Long Ashton to be engraved thereon, but that he ordered it afterwards.

A startling and dramatic incident occurred at this stage of the trial. A person in Oxford Street, after reading in the Times the account of the case as far as it had gone. telegraphed to Sir F. Thesiger that he could give impertant information. Counsel on both sides had not been pestered with letters and telegrams as they have been in the Tichborne case. Telegrams were fewer and more startling things, too, a few years ago than they are now. This one was promptly answered, and the reply came as quickly, requesting Sir F. Thesiger to ask plaintiff whether in January last, he had not gone to a person at 161 Oxtor! Street, and desired him to engrave the Bandon crest upo the rings produced, and also to engrave the name "Gookin'

1 the brooch. Sir F. Thesiger read the despatch, and put e question to plaintiff, who, having already been a od deal worn by the cross-examination, fairly broke down ader this last attack. Amid the breathless excitement of e court, and turning sickly pale, complainant said, “I id." A few more questions were put, after which Mr. ovill rose, and addressing the court said he could scarceexpress the emotion which he felt at the turn the case ad taken. After such an exposure, which was unparleled in courts of justice, he and his learned brethren lt it would be inconsistent with their duty as gentlemen the Bar to continue the contest any longer.

A verdict was at once given for the defendant, and "Sir ichard was afterwards taken in custody and placed in he dock as "Tom Provis," to take his trial for perjury and rgery. At the criminal investigation curious revelations ime to light as to the way in which the clever impostor ad got up his case. The seal engraver, Mr. Moring, roved that the brown paper was the same in which he had ent a seal made by the prisoner's order, on the 17th March, 1853. He engraved the arms and the motto of the mythe family on this seal. The "u" in "Qui Capit apitur" had become blotted and was made to resemble n "o." The engraver had not noticed the error. The eal which was produced in court by the prisoner had on it e fatal word "Capitor," with which the deed had been ealed.

The will of 1823, it was shown, had been written on archment chemically prepared, and by a process unknown ntil within fourteen years of the trial. The forged letter rom Sir Hugh to his "wife Jane," mentioned "Lydia Reed" as a fitting nurse for her, and the claimant had tated that this was the woman who had brought him up, nd from whom he had obtained a picture of the late Sir Hugh and the other relics of his family, which were xhibited in court. Unfortunately for him, however, his wn sister, Mrs. Heath, and other witnesses proved that hey had known the picture for thirty or forty years as the portrait of John Provis, the eldest son of the carpener." Mrs. Heath declared that she had never known him is any other than her own brother, until he had become a public lecturer on "Mnemonics," and travelled about the country under the title of "Dr. Smith." A Bible was put n evidence showing his marriage to Mary Anne Whittick, and several witnesses proved his marriage, although he had lenied that interesting event on oath during the trial. The ancient rings and some other relics were found to have been purchased at the shop of Mr. Cocks, jeweller, Oxford Street, in 1853. On one of these rings the prisoner had engraved "Jane, wife of Hugh Smythe, Esq., m. 1796 — d. 1797." This particular ring bought as ancient turned out to be of comparatively modern manufacture. On another ring he had had engraved "Jane Gookin," and it was in connection with this particular ring that he broke down when cross-examined upon the engraver's telegram. Mr. Cocks's book was produced. It contained entries of directions for engraving made by the prisoner himself.

Tom Provis from the dock cross-examined the witnesses against him at great length, interspersing his questions with speeches and statements, the point of most of them being that he was the son of Sir Hugh Smythe, baronet; that in prosecuting his claim he had done things which could only be justified by the circumstances.

At the close of his last speech he considerably astonished everybody. Putting his hand behind his neck he drew forth an enormous pigtail. Ostentatiously exhibiting it to the jury, he appealed to it as conclusive evidence of his aristocratic birth, adding solemnly, Gentlemen, I was born with it, and my son was born with one six inches long!" Despite this last touching appeal, the prisoner was found guilty and sentenced to twenty years' transportation.

Should the curious reader ever find himself in the picturesque neighborhood of Ashton Court, he will have little or no difficulty in obtaining a sight of the pigtail and other relics which remain as memorials of " the well-known referred to by Lord Chief Justice Bovill during another famous trial, Jan. 25, 1872.

case

REMINISCENCES OF THE QUEEN'S THANKS

GIVING.

BY A POLICEMAN.

I'M particler full of thanksgiving, sir, that I am, by reason that it's all over. I'm as sore all over as if I had run under a millwheel. If the mark o' that wenemous old woman with the pecooliarly sharp funny bone ain't in black and blue just above my fifth rib, my number ain't ten hundred and twenty. Feet- my feet are like two lumps of redhot jelly, for they've been trodden on, jumped on, danced on, and made props on for two days almost straight ahead. I'm agoin' to sleep while I stand, I'm that dead tired and weary; and Bill Scroggs, the fire-escape man, swares that he saw me early this morning walkin' composedly up and down a snorin' like a reg'lar good 'un. But Bill is a little too fond o' crackin' his jokes, and I never snores in my sleep, leastwise nobody said so except my old woman. No two ways about it, we've had a bout of it, us policemen. I went on duty here in Fleet Street at nine on Monday morning, and stopped on till Monday night at ten. All the force together fell in at a quarter to five yesterday morning, and my turn to come off duty didn't come till after four this morning, and now I've had another turn this afternoon. There's one man in our subdivision who, they say, hasn't been off duty for the whole three days, but has been walking up and down the middle of Fleet Street all the time, except during his five minutes' relief to get a glass of beer. But, I think, sir, that must be an ejaculation, for city police flesh and blood couldn't hold to it.

A good long spell of time ain't nothin' comparatively, when you've only got to walk up and down leisurely, have your beer pretty reg'lar, and an occasional refreshing chat with a brother constable where the beats join. But them two days you had to work like a coalwhipper every minute of your time. Then, you see, a coalwhipper gets his beer, and has free privilege to swear till he blows the smut off his face, if he is that way inclined; but we could neither get a drink nor a relief to our minds- - no matter how much they was aggrawated by a good spell of promisquis d-ing. Martyrs and 'ermits! Whenever I 'ear on parties as walk with peas in their boots, or wear handcuffses round their waistses, or flog themselves, by way of penance, or live in naturally damp caves with prickly places in the rocks for beds, I weigh the whole kit on 'em up for fools. If they want a real, honest, downright, straightforward spell of torture, what do they want exporting of theirselves to furrin parts when they can join the force at home, and have the experience of a great public occasion? Why, sir, to say nothing else, they would have the pleasure of suffering from the pangs of hunger. Of course, afore I came on duty on Tuesday morning the missis made up some sandwinches, and wrapped up in my pocket-hankercher half of a cooked haddock I had taken home in my pocket the night before. Well, about eleven, havin' had no breakfast, I thought I would try a sandwinch. You should ha' seen what they was like arter the squeezing they had got in my coat-tail pocket! crumbs mixed with fluff and paper, t'other half-as was moist and solid, had the look of a forced meat ball that the cat has been playing with. As for the fish in the other pocket, blest if you could tell which was haddock and which was handkercher, and in the uncertainty I couldn't bring myself to try the compost, for I didn't care about eating the "claimant" and the attorney-general pulling at the little boy, which was the pattern on the pocket-hankercher. It was afternoon afore I got five minutes' relief, and three of that I spent in struggling into a public-house, so all I could have was a glass of ale and then back again to be butted against and kneaded for another spell.

Half was

On Monday night round the corners of the Triumphal Harch, in Ludgate hill, there was some as tight fits in the way of squeezing as any thing I ever seed. Blowed if I know where all the babies comes from in a crowd. Go where you will, whenever there's a squeeze there's always sure to be a mother with a baby right in the very heart of it; and it's an even chance if the woman ain't got two. I wonder whether the mothers think that it's a kind of cultivation of the minds of

their young 'uns to bring them out to see every think as they do? I don't mean for to go to say that I ain't fond of babies in a way, but I own up to it that they sets my teeth on edge in a crowd. They squall when they're squeedged, and when a baby squalls it's just like a dog a-howling. All the rest within hearing take it up and keep it going; then the mothers sets a skreetching, and the husbands gets savage, and the old women begins to jawr, and the mischievous devils of boys set a shoving, and so a block is sure to form with a rush at the tail end of it. I reckon that within the last two days there must have been lots of babies changed and some lost outright. On Monday night in the middle of the squeedge by the harch, a man lays hold o' me, and cries out that his wife was laying in a faint on t'other side of the road, close to the harch, with the baby in her arms. I couldn't get to her, not if it had been to save her life; but I sees a carpenter as was workin' up above, holding out a baby that had been handed up to him, and axing that the owner would come forward and identify it. I shouts out to him that the kid was wanted over at my side, so it was passed from hand to hand overhead to me, and I gave it to the man, glad to get his mouth shut. Just then there came a rush and he was swept up the street; but in about a quarter of an hour back he came in a bad way to tell me that the baby warn't hisn at all, and that he thought he had lost the wife for good. I tried to convince him that one baby was pretty nigh as good as another, 'specially when about the same age; but he didn't seem to see it, and kept standing by me a'most crying after his wife and his own kid. I persuaded him to take it easy and wait awhile, for it was pretty sure the real owner of the baby would turn up. Well, there he stood and held the stranger, that took to him quite amicable, and I do think he would have gone away content with it if the right father and mother hadn't turned up in tears after having been at the office to report their loss. So they took the infant and left him with ne'er a baby at all, and a wife lost in the bargain; whether he is still a bereaved 'usband and father, or whether he found the pair at home afore him, is more than I know. On Tuesday afternoon I saw another game with a baby. There was a bad squeedge in Fleet Street and a woman with a young 'un in the thick of it as usual. It did look as if the brat would come to grief, and a gentleman as was settin' at a window with a lot of ladies stretched over and nipped up the child. Just at the minute the block burst, and the mother was whirled on, leaving the infant high and dry with the gentleman, who looked a little sheepish when a chap in the crowd advised him to adopt it on the spot. He tried to get the ladies to take it, but they turned up their noses at the common man's kid; you see, it hadn't a bib and tucker on; and by the way it slavered I guessed it was teething. At last he gave it to a young man to hold, who evidently wasn't used to the business, and who the wag in the crowd would have was the unfeeling father who had neglected his duty towards it, and had been served out by the betrayed young woman, in having the kid put upon him in this way. Whether that 'ere young man stuck to the young 'un, whether he took it to the workhus, or whether the mother turned up and claimed it, I can't tell you, for I had to go away while he was a standing with it in his arms and looking at it with a comical bewildered look, as if a baby was a natural curiosity just inwented.

My post on Tuesday morning was close to the Temple Bar. When we got there at five o'clock the streets were nearly as full as they commonly are at eight. The Bar itself was blocked by scaffolding, for the workmen were still at it, and the only passage was through the harches on the pavements. The whole street, east and west, was in a blaze with lights, for people were hard at work fitting up their decorations, and they didn't many of them get done till close on nine. Lots of people had been walking about all night, and had begun to take up their positions for the day in the good pitches against the barriers on the Temple side of the Bar. Once in they could not get out, if they had wanted ever so bad, for the mass formed behind them had wedged them in. There they had to stop till close on three o'clock, and most of them without bite or sup. Lots that might have had something in their pockets could not get at them, so

close did the people stand. There was one old lady there as was making herself very comfortable- she was of the old campaigner breed, evidently. She got next the barrier, so that she could get her arm over, and so to her pocket, where she had a lump of German sausidge and a flat bottle, and may I never if she didn't drink the Queen's health when her Majesty was halted by the Lord Mayor, and then shied the empty bottle arter Sheriff Bennett's horse. Plenty of men came along on their way to work, but once in the crowd, could get neither way, and had to make a holiday of it, whether they would or not. Over and over again I was asked, "Can't you push me through, policeman, I'm bound to go to work." But what could I do to help them, wedged in myself as I was, nearly as tight as any body? A few of the people were drunk from the first thing in the morning, mostly them as had been up all night; but they went to sleep comfortably on their legs, for their neighbors were too close for them to fall down, and so they got sober again. One suspicious party we pulled down from clambering up on to the Bar, as turned out to be a woman in man's clothes, and her we did manage to lock up. But when the crowd got thicker you couldn't have got out anybody to lock hin up, not if he had been a murderer with a reward on his head. Lots of people that came rather late could not get access to their seats on the east side of Temple Bar, and we could not help them a bit. About eight in the morning there was a desperate rush eastward, against the scaffolding as hadn't been removed, and so strong was the push that the planking gave and let the people through. The first of them went down, tripped up by some boards that had stood firm. and I thought we were in for an ugly thing. Seven were down altogether, and four were women. The policemen and the work-people set their backs against the crowd, till they scrambled and got away up some of them were hurt and bruised. Did you ever see a rush where women weren't in the front? How they get there I don't know, but there they are, and their clothes get twisted between the people behin them, and then they're whipped off their legs, and down they go. Be sure, too, that they drive more stubborn and vicious than men in a crowd. I think they lose their tempers sooner, and forget their weakness, and go to work as if they wanted to kill everybody between them and the place they want to get to.

Then we began to try to clear the street against the carriages should begin to come; but we didn't quite succeed till a detachment of the Life Guards came and helped us Horses are the thing to make a mob manageable. The Guards know their work first-rate, and so do their horses, There is no hard riding, or rearing, or capering, but steady slow backing, with now and then a sidling movement, the horse whisking his tail all the time as if he were just going to kick, and would, too, if you didn't get out of the road, when all the time he don't mean it a little bit. Then, I'l say this for the soldiers, partic'larly for the cavalry men. that their temper is first-class. You see the people don't chaff them as they do us policemen, and although we ge used to it and don't mind it, it doesn't improve any feller's temper always to be roasted and made à regular butt of We had been cautioned afore we went out to be sure to keep our tempers down, but to be firm and peremptory, and never on any consideration to draw our truncheons. Well, sir, I won't deny it, I did use my fist sometimes, and small blame to me. I will say this for the people, that mostly I never seed a throng more pleasant and bidable, but there were exceptions, and then we had to do our best on very short notice. You see you could not run a feller in and if a feller gave you a crack, what could you do but let him have it back again? There's no ill blood bred by a one, two, and have done with it; and as for the you? roughs, as are nuisances to everybody, a strong hand their collar, and a good shove from the shoulder, teaches them a rough lesson in manners pretty quick. But we wern't much put upontake it all in all, and we tried our best to keep right with the people as well as with our duty Some of the infantry soldiers got a bit waxy now and then I believe a 23d man would have made a hole in a feller with his bayonet if it had not been for a sergeant of ours

ho struck his bayonet up in the air when the man was own with it at the "charge."

The rush that followed the tail end of the procession hrough the Bar was broken very neatly. Six mounted olice as had been following wheeled about under the arch nd stuck there, facing the crowd, with us men on foot acking them up. It was a horrible squeedge outside; for, to speak, here was the whole of the West End coming umbling on to the city; but the mounted men kept their osition till at the end of half an hour Inspector Foulger hought it time to let the people begin to circulate. So he ormed us in single line down the centre of the street, spliting the crowd and the ground in this way, and making a ouble lane, one for them going east and another for them s were going west. Every now and then us chaps on foot would be carried away bodily and our formation broken ; but we struggled back how best we could, and when hings got very bad the mounted men would block up the rch again and so let us pull ourselves together. There were twenty of us city men, and forty of the Metropolitans, ut I verily believe the lot on us would have been swept ight clean away, and never got the crowd in hand again f it hadn't been for the mounted men. And all the time, pite of the squeedging and jostling, that made the perspiraion run off me as if I were in a bath, the crowd was orderly nough. I never heard less coarse language, or saw littler Donneting, as the horseplay roughs are so fond of; in fact, he crowd was mostly of decent people that couldn't help he pressure, however willing they might be.

The crowds kept on very thick all the afternoon, and one very ugly rush happened about four. But it was about seven when the most horrible crush came that ever I saw. We were nowhere; I was whipped clean off my legs and borne down as far as Chancery Lane, without a chance to touch land till I brought up against the lamp-post at the corner. When I looked about I seed some of our chaps further down Fleet Street, and seemingly on the straight road to the bank. And the yells and shrieks. the cries of the women for "mercy!" the squalling of the babies in their arms, and the shouts of the men, gave me the funk for a moment, and I made sure we were in for a bad time. All we could do was to shout "Keep your legs!" and that was almost nonsense; for if a man or a woman can't keep their legs, how can they? If one had gone down, that stretcher that Jack Jones was in charge of in Bellyard would have been no use, for a dozen and more stretchers would have been wanted when once the poor wretches could have been got at. The mounted men were wedged in, and dursn't move, or they would have thrown people down, and so done the deed it was worth so much to keep away from. Somehow presently the force of the rush slackened, and we got back to our place to find that a lot of the chaps, by the counter rush, had been carried right bang out into Clement Danes Churchyard, and were only then struggling their way back. It kept on like this now a rush, now a lull quite till one o'clock in the morning, when the detachment of the Metropoli.ans left us city chaps to our fate. But by that time the crowd was getting thinner, although there was work to be done the whole night long.

FOREIGN NOTES.

AN English paper remarks that the Thanksgiving has given rise to a number of ephemeral publications, which are more remarkable for loyalty than any thing else.

FORSTER'S "Life of Dickens," Wilkie Collins's "Poor Miss Finch," and Browning's Poetical Works have been added to the Tauchnitz library.

THE institution of a Dogs' Home has found admirers who propose to introduce it at Madrid, and believe it will abate great nuisances there. It will doubtless be entirely successful if it is only a long home.

MR. HALLIWELL has given the whole of his valuable collection of early Shakspearean rarities to the University

of Edinburgh. The more modern books in his library, including numerous volumes of unpublished notes on the text, have been presented to the Shakspeare Museum at Stratford-on-Avon.

ACCORDING to the Saturday Review the English are in danger of becoming lamentably conceited. "If we take M. neighbors think about our laws, our habits, our character, Taine's 'Notes on England' as a fair sample of what our and our institutions, we certainly need not fear 'to see ourselves as others see us.'"

MR. EVELYN JERROLD and M. Camille Barrère, with the express permission of Victor Hugo, will translate into English verse his new poem, "L'Année Terrible." It might as well be left in French if the whole is no better than the specimen published in the Rappel, which is pr nounced "terribly bad, unpardonably blasphemous, an quite incomprehensible."

SOME letters from the Austrian minister at London at the time of Peter the Great's visit to England in 1698, have just been published. They confirm the report that the czar sat to Sir Godfrey Kneller for his portrait, and agree with other contemporary notices in failing to see in him much more than a barbarian with an extravagant taste for shipbuilding.

A CURIOUS discovery of buried treasures was made some days ago at Benevento, by a mason who was removing the foundations of an old wall. His pickaxe struck upon a large pot, and on putting in his hand he found it full of freshly-stamped gold coins. They proved to belong to the time of Manfred, and bear on one side his escutcheon, on the other the Suabian eagle.

THE Pall Mall Gazette says the Revue des Deux Mondes (Feb. 15) is enlivened by a Proverbe from George Sand; the dialogue has the lively dramatic neatness of which the French stage possesses and retains the secret, but it is a pity that the author, like most of her countrymen, seems unable to bring this remarkable and admirable technical dexterity to bear upon any other subject than the "to be or not to be" of a criminal intrigue; in this case the latter alternative is however preferred.

MR. GOLDWIN SMITH has written for the Fortnightly Review a long article on "The Aim of Reform," in which he says Mr. Gladstone "is, as he always has been, greatly under aristocratical and ecclesiastical influence; the men with whom he lives, and whom he naturally loves to promote, are the members of an aristocratic and high-church circle; he has bound himself to the maintenance of the House of Lords and of the State Church, and has thereby morally closed his legislative career. But he has at the same time real popular sympathies, which have led him to do more than any other statesman of the present day in the line of fiscal and economical reform for the improvement of the people, and has drawn upon him the bitter and almost delirious hatred of the people's worst enemies. Not to support him against those enemies would have been foolish and culpable pessimism."

MR. HOME, the professor of spiritualistic lezerdemain, seems to have applied to himself Mr. Browning's portrait of "Sludge the Medium." In revenge he tells a story about Browning, of which the burden is as follows: Several years since, Mr. Home met Mr. and Mrs. Browning at Ealing, when a spiritual séance relieved the tedium of a morning party, and demonstrated to beholders that the spirits thought more highly of Mrs. Browning than of her husband. A wreath of clematis was on this occasion lifted from a table by an invisible power, and conveyed through the air in the direction of Mrs. Browning. On observing the course taken by the garland, Mr. Browning left his seat on the opposite side of the table, and moved quickly to a spot behind his wife's chair, in the hope that even at the last moment the spirits, in deference to his marital supremacy might place on his brow the coronal which was due to the lady, as his superior in poetic genius. However, the