25 OCTOBER 1851, Page 3

Vattriurrl

At Bradford, on Tuesday, Mr. Robert Milligan was chosen without opposition to represent the borough in Parliament, in room of the late Mr. Busfeild. Mr. Milligan was questioned as to his opinions, by Mr.. David Lightowler, the Chartist leader.

He avowed, that he is in favour of "a large extension of the suffrage "— especially to "young men well qualified by education and other things " ; but he would not be pressed to say exactly how large an extension he would make. "It is impossible to say exactly how far I should go—it would depend a great deal on circumstances ; but I should go as far as I should think it necessary to secure good government. I believe the extension of the suffrage might, be very large and perfectly safe. The Queen is not afraid to pass through hundreds of thousands of her subjects ; nor am I afraid the people would generally vote wrong." He was decidedly in favour of vote by ballot ; would vote for the abolition of property qualifications for Members ; and wished to see an alteration in electoral districts. Ile should wish to adhere to the old English system of having County and Borough Members; but he would give additional members to large towns, and would either group the smaller boroughs together or add them to the county constituencies. Mr. Lightowler explained, that he is as much a Chartist as ever he had been ; but he has given up a little, and joined the National Reform Association, in order the Sooner to get what he wanted. The House of Commons,isthe only Republican part of the constitution, and the electors ought to efideatoui to make it as Democratic as possible. He hoped the honourable Member would continue to make progress, and keep up with the reforms required for the day.

The agricultural meetings still supply some incidents of political amuse- ment, if not of instruction. At the yearly meeting of the Wahham-on-the-Wolds Society, =Fri- day, the Marquis of Granby repeated his Protectionist speech, with the advantage of a new embellishment--the frequent introduction of our own name, along with that of the Leading Journal. We of course feel the severity of the handling, and the Standard vouches for its "exquisite humour." Let our readers judge— "They were told that Protection was dead. They were told so every day in the Times newspaper. They were told so last year, and they were told it so often last year that they really began to believe there must be something in it. They thought that the cause had been given up, and had ordered their mourning for the occasion. Mr. Wakley had invited himself to attend as Coroner upon the inquest ; but, lo and behold ! the body that was defunct was the Free-trade Ministry, and Mr. •Wakley sat upon the Co- roner's inquest. Then it was said that the Duke of Wellington came and somehow or other resuscitated this Free-trade Ministry, not to perfect life, but to vegetate, and there they were vegetating at that moment, the perse- verance with which the Times asserted that Protection was altogether -hope- less was very singular. And there was the Spectator, another violent Free- trade organ, with which he was much amused Last week. It said, 'In home politics the news of the week turns upon a subject that is not only old but done with '—then, why did the Spectator, a go-ahead journal, trouble its

head about it one that all parties desire to forget'—then, why did not the Spectator forget it ?—' and yet, by the perverseness of fate, it will insist upon being remembered, discussed, nay, hoped for, as if it really were some- thing promised in the future, and not an exploded mistake of the past. Jour- nalists detest the subject' —Free-trade journalists had cause to detest the subject —‘ hate the very word; and yet we find ourselves, against our liking, still tracing and retracing the detested letters, Protection.' 'The subject is hateful to us on every account.' He believed that. We know that the public is sick of it.' Did they ? 'We know that the sight of the word is enough to make the reader turn from our pages '—fools they must be then —‘ with dislike, perhaps with contempt, for our inability to shake off the habit. But here we are still writing it, Protection. It is the Bottle Imp of politicians.' Poor Spectator, it must be hard for it and the Times to be in the unfortunate predicament of being ever obliged to write the word they hate." At the yearly gathering of the Herefordshire Society, in Hereford, on Saturday last, Mr. Wegg-Prosser M.P., Mr. Cornewall Lewis M.P., Mr. Booker M.P., and Sir Robert Price M.P., were speakers. Mr. Wegg- Prosser announced that it was the last time he should address his consti- tuents—he should not stand again. Mr. Lewis made a speech in defence of the Free-trade policy, which was listened to with great impatience by the agricultural audience.

But the incident of the meeting was the rhetoric of Mr. Booker—only to be explained, and not even then palliated, by recollection that it escaped him after dinner. Having quoted the census to show that a stagnation or decline of population had taken place in the agricultural counties of Hereford, Brecon, Wilts, and Radnor, he proceeded—

"It would be a libel on the buxom, rosy-checked women of Herefordshire, to say that at least they were not as good breeders as their own cows, or that their qualifications were not superior to those of the half-starved creatures in the overcrowded alleys of the towns, called women, but who bad none of the 'points' of a woman, either before or behind; and it would be a libel, too, on the broad-shouldered men of Herefordshire to say that they were not as sure foal-getters as the men of any-other county, or even as Prince Albert himself." (Harks of disgust from the audience caused the speaker to change the topic.) M. Kossuth has reached our shores, and feels that "now indeed" he is free. Ile landed at Southampton on Thursday, by the Peninsular steam- ship Madrid ; and is the guest of Mr. Andrews, the Mayor of South- ampton.

The Hungarians who had assembled at Southampton to meet their chief, and the expectant townsmen themselves, were much perplexed on Thurs- day by erroneous announcements of his arrival. It was not certain whether he would come by the Peninsular steam-ship Madrid, which would call ht the Spanish and Portuguese ports, or by the Oriental steam-ship Indus, which would touch at Gibraltar, on her way to England with the over- land mail, several days later than the Madrid, but would come straight to Southampton, and arrive half a day before her. The London journals had their correspondents on the spot. One reporter pictures the constant movement of expectation in which the town was kept.

"Even the few hours between midnight on Wednesday and the afternoon of today were not without their troubles and anxieties. First, ere the dawn, the Indus arrived from Gibraltar with the news that M. Kossuth had sailed from Gibraltar in the Madrid on the 15th instant, and thus set all his friends on the alert, and roused up the Corporation for the third time within this fortnight. At noon the rumour flew about that the Madrid had been sig- nalled. The intelligence was despatched to the Mayor and spread to Al- dermen and Common Councilmen, and troops of Hungarians strode down hastily to the docks and to the dockheads to hail their ex-Governor. Sure enough, there were two steamers in sight,--one, the Thames, West India steamer ; the other, as it turned out very speedily, only a French packet. Moodily puffing their cigars, the crowd of grave moustachioed men stood in- tenth gazing seawards, scarcely believing the assurances they received that the little steamer was not the Madrid, and that Kossuth was not on board. After a short time they broke up into small knots and strolled back to town. There were not perhaps more than thirty or forty Hungarians ; but their marked features, 'bushy beards and whiskers, and foreign style of dress, lent some novelty of appearance to almost every street as they stalked about in their uneasiness at this new failure from one end of Southampton to the other. Many were the inquiries for Lord Dudley Stuart, but he was not visible; and it turned out subsequently, he had contented himself with sending a tele- graphic message to know if he would be in time to meet Kossuth if he left London by the one o'clock train ; to which, under the impression produced by the first false alarm, an answer was returned in the affirmative. About two o'clock the news again flew through the town that the Madrid was sig- nalled; and this time it turned out to be correct. The Mayor, arrayed in his chain of office, a blue coat with official brass buttons, and geld em- broidered vest, immediately started off in a boat to the vessel, which was rapidly approaching the shore. All the Hungarians rallied once more and ran down to the docks again ; a considerable body of the inhabitants also assembled in front of the vacant Epace left for the Madrid in the thickly- filled dock; and at each of the entrances a number of Hungarian refugees, some labourers, sailors, and citizens, collected to have a good view of her approach."

" t was touching," says another reporter, "to witness the behaviour" ngarians.

tamed to the English habit of restraining their emotions, they pression to their feelings—they wept, and laughed, and danced nd when they spoke to each other, it was only to ask whether eased was not a dream—whether that was really the Madrid that was approaching—and whether Kossuth could really be on board. Meantime, the stately vessel slowly made her way into the dock ; and as some delay was expected before the passengers could actually land, some of the more enthusiastic admirers of Kossuth, and a few of his intimate friend.s, took boats and proceeded at once on board. Among the latter were end Madame Pulzsky ; who were taken on board through the courtesy of Mr. Crosby, the American Consul." As the vessel entered the dock, the crowds at the pier-heads cheered loudly ; and M. Kossuth, with uncovered head, bowed in acknowledg- ment. Opposite the mooring-ground of the Madrid, the whole quay-wall was thronged, and some two or three thousand persons were collecteqj there, foremost among whom were the refugees. Along with the first who went on deck was the reporter of the Times ; who gives the follow- ing picture of Kossuth's personal appearance.

" He stands about five feet eight inches in height, has a alight and ap- parently not strongly knit frame, and is a little round-shouldered. His face is rather oval ; a pair of blueish-gray eyes, which somewhat reminded me of O'Connell's in expression, well set beneath a full and arched brow, give an animated and intelligent look to his countenance. His forehead, high and broad, is deeply wrinkled, and time has just begun to grizzle a head of straight dark hair, and to leave a bald Spot behind. He has not got the true Hungarian nose, but it is a fair well-formed feature—such as a French pass- port would describe as ' moyen'•' a thick moustache nearly covers his mouth, except when he speaks or smiles, and unites with beard and whis- ker in a full flock of dark hair falling down from his chin. The portraits are singularly unlike him in either person or expression. Whether from his recent captivity or from constitutional causes, there is somehow an air of lassitude in his look • to which the fatigues of his voyage not improbably contributed. Altogether, gives one the idea of a man of thought rather than of a man of action : there is a speculative air in his face, mingled with some degree of melancholy, which would mark him for a visionary or theoretical enthusiast rather than for a great leader or a soldier. He was very plainly attired, in a dark-green frock-coat with a little silk braid at the back and edges, and wore a common low-crowned square felt hat."

The meeting between the Pulzsky and the Kossuth families was very warm and tender.

"M. Kossuth pressed Madame Pulzsky to his heart, while his eyes filled with tears, which slowly rolled down his cheeks. M. Pulzsky saluted Ma- dame Kossuth most warmly ; and she and Madame Pulzsky flew into each other's arms, kissed each other, and wept, by turns. M. Pulzsky, too, was deeply affected. The children were then embraced, and a general shaking of hands took place. This little scene touched all the bystanders ; but the enthusiasm on shore, as the Madrid came alongside and the exiles beheld Kossuth, was tremendous, and in their anxiety they nearly pushed each other into the water. Repeated rounds of cheering broke from the crowd, mingled with the Hungarian 'Hurrahs,' and wild shouts of Eljen Kos- suth!' Handkerchiefs, white, red, and every colour, were waved in a perfect cloud ; and it seemed as if the band of his compatriots would carry off their chief bodily." "The moment he set his foot upon the quay, his country- men crowded round him' many of them threw themselves upon his neck' all seized his hand, kissed it, and shook it as if they could not be persuaded to part with it. The example thus set by the foreigners was contagious among their English neighbours' who did not venture indeed to observe the kissing part of the welcome, but had no objection to the shaking of hands; and brawny arms were extended, and many an honest English gripe was given to him. The Hungarian seemed much effected by this cordial mode of re- ception,- he heartily entered into it, and with right good will shook every hand that was extended to him."

At last Kossuth and his family entered an open carriage drawn by four horses, and proceeded to the Mayor's place of business above the Bar.

"The whole route of the procession was lined by 6:dense multitude of people' and the windows and balconies of the houses were crowded with well-dressed ladies, who waved their handkerchiefs as he passed. There was considerable cheering at various points in the principal streets but on the whole less than there usually is on such occasions—in truth, the people were otherwise employed : but the example set at the dock spread through the town, and all along the route men were crowding round the carriage, and pressing forward to shake hands with the exile. This continued till the carriage arrived at the Mayor's place of business, where the crowd had gathered the densest, and here the hand-shaking was redoubled' the creed pressed in from all parts, and it seemed as if Kossuth would not be allowed to leave the carriage till he had shaken hands with the whole population of Southampton. He was at last, however, permitted to leave the vehicle and enter the house, followed by a few friends of the Mayor and the whole of the Hungarians who had come to Southampton to witness his landing." But he shortly appeared at the balcony., and after a few words with the Mayor, proceeded to address the delighted crowd. The reporter of the Times certifies—" His voice is clear and distinct, but rather deep arid monotonous, like that of a man who has used it up in public speaking. His utterance is energetic, his accent wonderfully good ; but he seems some- times embarrassed with too much words, sometimes at a loss for any suit- able to express his precise ideas." M. Kossuth uncovered his head, and spoke as follows, amidst continued in- terruptions of applause. "I beg you will excuse my bad English. Seven weeks back I was a prisoner in Kiutayah, in Asia Minor. Now I am ri free man. I am a free man, because glorious England chose it. That England chose it, which the genius of mankind selected for the resting monument of its greatness, and the spirit of freedom for his happy home. Cheered by your sympathy, which is the anchor of hope to oppressed humanity, with the view of your freedom, your greatness, and your happiness, and with, the con- sciousness of my unhappy land in my breast, you must excuse for the emo- tion I feel—the natural consequence of so striking a change and so different circumstances. So excuse use for not being able to thank you so warmly, as I feel for the generous reception in which you honour in my undeserving person the cause of my country. I only hope .Ged Almighty may for ever bless you, and your glorious land. Let me hope you will be willing to threw a ray of hope and consolation on my native land by this your generous re- ception. May England be ever great, glorious, and free ; but let me hope, by the blessing of Almighty God, and by our own steady perseverance,. and by your own generous aid, that England, though she may ever remain the most glorious spot on earth, will not remain for over the only one where freedom dwells. Inhabitants of the generous town of Southampton ! in shaking hands with your Mayor, ray best and truest friend—lHere 31. Kose suth turned round to the Mayor, and shook hands with his worship energe- tically, amid much cheering] —I have the honour to thank you, and to ealrite■ with the deepest respect, you, the inhabitants of the industrious, noble- minded, enlightened, and prosperous city of Southampton." He retired. Presently the Mayer led forward Madame Kossuth; who appeared pale and delicate : with emotion she acknowledged the hearty welcome given her, by waving her handkerchief. The .musieihns,: with" out much appropriateness, played "'Auld lang sync"; and the people joining in a sort of chorus' M. Kossuth asked what was the air which der awakened popular sympathy ? Mr. Andrews explained, that it was One

"customarily sung on occasions of cordial welcome." The children were then called for : the eldest boy was held aloft by a Hungarian and by his father, and the crowd raised cheers in his honour. The band then played " God save the Queen." M. Kossuth added-

" It is, gentlemen, a glorious sight to behold a queen on the throne re- presenting the principle of liberty. You have that privilege. In thanking you once more for your generous welcome, let me add an expression of my feeling, in which I entreat you to join. I give you three cheers for your gracious Queen. God bless her ! God bless you all ! "

He then retired from the balcony, evidently fatigued. In the afternoon the Corporation, and certain other deputed persons,

assembled in the afternoon, a large room over the Bar gate—Southamp- ton's Temple Bar—to present municipal and other addresses to M. Kos- suth. He arrived at about five o'clock. The Corporation document was -very enthusiastic in its tone, and avowed a belief that the principles in defence of which M. Kossuth's great talents had been displayed are "des- tined to triumph at no distant day." M. Kossuth made the following reply— Mr. Mayor, and gentlemen of the Municipality of the town and county of Southampton—Excuse me, an unpretending stranger, for not being able in your own language duly to express my warmest sentiments of thanks and gratitude for the honour you have done me by your generous welcome, and for the generous sentiments which you, Mr. Mayor, have been pleased to address to me. I was already, even before my arrival, bound by lasting ties of gratitude to the town of Southampton, for its numerous tokens of high- minded sympathy to my dear native land, and its protection to her exiles ; and though prepared for the honour of this reception, you will excuse the few- words I may say, inspired by your presence, and without preparation. The honour to be welcomed by the people of England—by this noble town— is matter of the highest gratification to me because it is a corporation—one of the municipalities of England--that I have had the honour to meet, and which has received me in such a generous manner. Not this day only, but from my early youth, this glorious country has had a mighty share in my destinies. I was wont, in early youth, to look to England as the book of life, which was to teach me—I may say to teach Europe—how to live. Through three centuries the house of Austria has exhausted against Hun- gary every. effort both of open violence and of secret intrigue ; and it was only our municipal institutions which still, under the most difficult circumstances, conserved to Hungary something of the spirit of public life—some part of constitutional liberty. There was a time when a fatal sickness, a desire to centralize every power in the government, and to tutor the government— when that fatal sickness of political feeling spread over the Continent, and made its way to my own country, so that it became almost the fashion, almost a mark of intelligence, to be in favour of centralization. I was al- most alone in struggling against this storm, the rushing waves of this sen- timent in Europe ; because I regarded, and ever shall regard, municipal life as such a benefit, that without it there can be no practical freedom whatever; and for the loss of which I take ministerial responsibilities and parliamentary privileges to be but poor equivalents. Under this sickening influence of cen- tralization the fairest fruits of a nation's conquest—glory outside and free- dom within—wither in its fingers. When I first read the French Constitu- tion, I foretold that the great and glorious French nation would yet have to undergo many storms, because they had not abandoned the fatal principle of centralization : for it is only in the municipal institutions of a country where freedom dwells. Such, gentlemen, are my convictions. I hope that England will ever remain great, glorious, and free. I regard history, and I see the English race almost the one single race that is free in both hemi- spheres of the world ; and when I look for the key of that freedom, I readily confess that it is to be found in the municipal institutions, which have not been absorbed by the propensity to centralization, and which have been con- served under different forms of Government—here Monarchical, in America Republican. For, gentlemen, it is not the institutions, but the spirit of the people embodied in these institutions, which make the two offshoots of that mighty race great, glorious, and free. It is, therefore, with the highest gratification that I receive this address at your hands, Mr. Mayor, and from this corporation. As to my humble self, conscious of no merit, and never aspiring to any reputation but that of a plain honest man, faithful to the duties of a true friend of freedom and of a patriot, I could not forbear feeling perplexed to see myself the object of such undeserved honour, were it not that I am aware your generous manifesta- tion is intended as an open countenance to the principles of freedom, of justice, and of popular rights, which my nation so valiantly struggled for, and which you so happily enjoy. It is a glorious position which the Eng- lish race holds in the world—almost the only free nation doubtless the only one whose freedom has to fear neither the change of time nor the ambition of man, provided it keep to its institutions,—provided the public-spirit of the people continue to safeguard it by adapting those institutions to the exigen- cies of the times and by a manly resolution never to fail in meeting those exigencias. This determination, these resolutions, being the chief guaran- tees of your greatness and happiness, I take to be the most consolatory hope to oppressed humanity, because I hive a firm conviction that the freedom and greatness of England are intimately connected with the liberties of the earth. It is not without reason that my dear native country and all the oppressed nations of the earth look to you as their elder brother, to whom the Almighty has not in vain imparted a spirit to meet the tide of human destinies. There is one prominent feature—there is nothing more important in all our struggles—that this sentiment is spreading over the world : for it is not the least of the glories you call your own, that the people of England appear to take the lead in the new direction of the public opinion of the world, out of which the highest blessings must ensue. The gene- rous sympathy of the people of England with my bleeding, struggling, down-trodden, but still not broken native land, i one, but not the only one of the manifestations by which England shows that she is ready to accept the glorious call of elder brotherhood. The people of England, though it has not to fear any direct attacks upon its liberty, knows that its welfare and its prosperity, founded as they are on the con- tinued development of its genius and industry, are yet not entirely inde- pendent of the condition of other nations. The people of England knows, that neither in a social nor political sense can it be indifferent whether Europe is free, or whether it groans under the despotism of Russia and its satellites. The people of England is conscious of its glorious position and it knows that—will it conserve that position—it must not grant to Austrian despots to dispose of the whole of Europe, but that it must throw its own weight into the balance of the fate of Europe, or England will be no Eu- ropean power more. It is this knowledge which is the source of hope and consolation to my oppressed nation, as well as to her fellow nations m the world, because the principles of your freedom, greatness, and happiness, are bound up in this ; and in the generous sentiments of the people of England we are positively assured that if the people of England throw its weight into the balance of the fate of Europe, the _people of England will never side with injustice, but with right — it will never side with oppression, but With freedom—it will never side with a few great families, but with the moral dignity of the people. Such were my prepossessions before my re- ception, and this address assures me of it, because you say that for the na- tion for which we so valiantly struggled there is yet a future. To see you the people of England, entertain this hope and belief, is almost like a victory; because its manifestation cannot fail powerfully to influence in the strongest manner the hopes of my country, and to double my own persever- ance and zeal in her cause, in order to have this realized which the people of England foretell, with a self-confident power to make it good. I hope the Almighty may grant me, before I leave this country and cross the ocean to go to that young giant, the younger brother of this mighty race, to thank him for the generous protection which he has bestowed, and to entreat his fatherly hand for the future of Europe,—I hope before I leave this country, to see in full activity, and spread over the whole of these glorious isles, some of those mighty associations by which you carry triumphantly every refor every great principle in this country. I hope some of these associations will lend their attention to the solidarity of the independence of Hungary with the freedom, the peace, and the independence of Europe and of these glorious isles —that they will take arms and give a practical direction to the generous sym- pathy of the people of England for my poor down-trodden and unhappy land, and reduce under a ruling principle the sentiments of public spirit in the peo- ple, which shows that they arc ready to accept the solidarity of their own freedom with the destinies of man, and especially with the destinies of Europe. I thank you for the generous wishes which you have bestowed upon me per- sonally. To me life has no value, but only as much as I can make use of it for the liberty and independence of my country, and for the benefit of humanity ; and though I decline all praises bestowed upon my personal character, as I am conscious of nothing I have done but what I con- sider my simple duty to be, and I am only sorry that my modest faculties do not equal my warm devotion to my native land ; yet I take your sentiments as encouraging me to go on in the way which I have ever aimed at through life, and which I hope, by the blessing of the Almighty, and the help of you, the people of England, and of all generous hearts in the world, to carry out to a happy issue. Let me end by pronouncing my most sincere wishes for the happiness of these great, free, and glorious isles. Let me repeat, that I take it to be a most glorious sight to see your gracious Queen representing upon the throne the principles of liberty ; and let me hope that the acknow- ledgment will not only have a future in Europe, but that the time draws near when you will have to applaud the success of those endeavours for which you now manifest such generous sympathy, even in their adversity and mis- fortune. It is a much greater right to acknowledge a principle in adversity than to hail it in success. I hope, gentlemen, you will excuse me. My life has been spent in hard work for my country. I have not had time to culti- vate the civilization of Western Europe, but my heart is devoted to England ; and you will meet never a man who has a greater sympathy for you and for your glorious country."

As M. Kossuth finished he was strenuously cheered : when the noise subsided, a cry for "Three groans for Austria!" was most heartily re- sponded to.

The Mayor then presented a large silk banner, worked as the national flag of the Hungarian Republic. This banner had been worked in New York by Hungarian ladies there, and had been sent over to this country on the way to Hungary. But it had reached England just as the news arrived of the capitulation of Georgey to the Russian arms. Become useless for its original purpose, it remained in the English customhouse till forfeited for the duties payable on it ; and being at last sold by the authorities, it was purchased by the Mayor of Southampton. In now presenting it to Kossuth, the Mayor expressed a hope that its owner might "yet live to fight victoriously under it on the land of his birth." M. Kossuth took the flag, pressed it to his bosom, and said, with energy- " I receive, gentlemen, this flag as the most valuable trust intrusted to the people of Hungary ; and I swear to you, whatever be our fate, cowardice and ambition shall never tarnish this flag."

An address from the working men of Southampton was then presented. It was acknowledged by M. Kossuth with a tribute of admiration to our working men—" those men who by that great gift of God, industry, have raised their country to be the living wonder of the world." Some one raised a cry of "Three groans for the Times I" but the Mayor exclaimed, "Stop, gentlemen ! You must all feel that if the public press takes up a question, whether it is one side or the other, you are all be- nefited by it." He proposed rather that there should be cheers for the Queen and Kossuth. These were given, and then cheers were added for the Mayor himself.

Mr. Gilpin, the mover of the address to Kossuth by the Corporation of London, spoke a few words. Mr. George Dawson invited Kossuth to i

Birmingham ; promising a hearty reception from "the most Democratic town n England." Mr. Falvey invited him to a separate banquet, besides the Corporation one next Tuesday, with the working men of Southampton. Kossuth made his warm acknowledgments to all, but felt that his short stay in the country precluded him from making any posi- tive engagements. The assemblage in the Town-hall then separated, with a series of cheers for the patriot guest.

Our readers have not forgotten the proposal for repressing professional crime, which Mr. Matthew Davenport Hill, as Recorder of Birmingham, addressed to his Grand Jury at the Michaelmas Sessions of last year. The plan was, in a few words, that convicted offenders whom the police can show to be probably persevering in crime, shall be bound to exonerate themselves from suspicion by evidence of honest life or means of livelihood, or else shall be liable to be imprisoned, or called on to find bail for their good behaviour. The plan was much criticized at the time it was promulgated, both from deference to the high character of its author and on its intrinsic merits. Mr. Hill has reviewed in his mind all the objections which were made to it, and at the Birming- ham Sessions last week he gave to the Grand Jury of the time the re- sult of that review, and of his own maturer reflections on his plan. We present the well-argued reasons which have induced him to avow himself "confirmed in his original views."

He had submitted to the predecessors of the Grand Jury now addressed, a "speculative opinion," and a "practical proposal." "My speculative opi- nion was, that all persons living without visible means of support., and who, in the belief of witnesses connected with their way of life, are maintaining themselves by crime as their stated calling, ought to be called upon to prove themselves in the enjoyment of some honest means of subsistence : and I further submitted, that, in the absence of such proof, they should be bound to give sureties for good conduct; and again, that failing to give satisfactory security, they should be committed to prison for a limited period. This was my theory. And it was founded on the well-known fact, which I pause for a moment to state has never yet been controverted, that each individual of the class of professional marauders is well known, both personally and by character, to the police and to his neighbours, and could be pointed out with perfect ease. From this fact I drew the consequence, that society, having such means of knowledge within its own reach, was not only justified but

bound to use it for the general protection. In my practical proposal, h

-01V.• ever, I stopped short, and limited the application of my theory to the cases of offenders who had already. been convicted. I adopted this limitation for several reasons: one, that it IA always well to proceed step by step hi an un- tried course, or in a course comparatively untried ; another, because con- victed criminals form a large and by far the most dangerous portion of the Predatory class; and third, because by conviction they have necessarily for- feited the confidence of society,"

Mr. Hill assumes that "the administration of law proceeds upon a prin- ciple cif retribution" ; and theu he proceeds to assert, that , as long as pun- iehment is measured out on the retributive priuciple, so long an individual once convicted must remain an object of just and unavoidable suspicion ; and the class to which he belongs may reasonably be selected for any experiment which the welfare of the community requires to be instituted."

But our present mode of proceeding is rather calculated to encourage than prevent crime. We begin, as in teaching children their books, with short and easy lessons, ,increasing the teak as the learner acquires a greater capa- city. "When the juvenile offender Ant presents himself at the bar, we give him a slight imprisonment—just enough to accustom him to short separations from his companions, and to dispel the wholesome illusion which had made the gaol a place for fear, because it was a place of mystery. On the next occasion he remains longer : but he has become practised in prison life, and bears confinement far better than he would have done but for his former lesson. This process is repeated from time to time ; while the moral which the wretched creature draws from his alternations of confinement and free- dom is, not to refrain from offending, but to commit offeuees in such a man- ner as shall least expose him to the risk of detection, and moreover, that when at length detected he ought to bear his privations with as much of contempt and defiance as he can command—consoled by the prospect of restored freedom, and the hope of better fortune in future." Under this system, it is matter less 0 astonishment than alarm that so great a number of convicted malefactors constantly roam at large. Great, how- ever, as this number is, it is still increasing. "it is well known to you, as to all persons of education that during the last forty. years, dating from the tune of that great arid good man Sir Samuel Remaly, there has been a steady progress made by the Legislature in mitigating the severity of our criminal code, which, when he began his labours, was the most san- guinary to be found in the civilized world. Neither can it have esceped your observation, that the sentiment which has actuated the Legislature has also prevailed in the administration of criminal justice. Indeed, society through all its gradations is imbued with a far milder spirit than in bygone times. The combined operation of these causes has been not only to shorten terms of imprisonment, but to make the severer penalty of transportation of less frequent occurrence in proportion to the number of convicts than here- tofore; a circumstance which would have attracted mom attention if the dif- ficulty of ascertaining the numbers actually sent out of the country at differ- ent periods were less than it is and always has been. And now an addi- tional obstacle in the way of transportation has arisen' which threatens very seriously to lessen, if not altogether to extinguish, this kind of punishment.' Penal colonies have at length discovered that the moral evils incident on the importation of malefactors far outweigh the material benefits to which they hitherto limited their calculations. The consequences of closing this outlet may be estimated both by reference to the experience of other countries who have no colonial outlets, and by reference to the fact that as sentences of transportation to our colonies were at all times more frequently for limited terms of years than for life, "so few returned that the country might almost be said to be freed for ever from the presence of a convict when once he had left our shores."

To meet these difficulties, Mr. MD had proposed the scheme which he now more fully explains. "I propose that every person who has been convicted of a felony or of a misdemeanour implying fraud, (as obtaining goods under false pretences, knowingly passing base coin, and the like,) shall be liable to be dealt with as follows. If after the expiration of his imprisonment under his conviction he shall be brought before a magistrate, charged with still persevering in crime it shall be the duty of the magistrate, if the witnesses by evidence of generk conduct satisfy his mind that the charge is established, to call on the prisoner to show that he enjoys the means of honest subsist- ence' either from his property, his labour, the kindness of his friends, the bounty of the charitable, or from his parish. Should he succeed in adducing this proof, he is to be discharged. Should no such proof be forthcoming, he is next to be called upon to give bail for his good behaviour. Supposing him to answer this demand, he is to be still entitled to his discharge. But in the event of his failure, he is then to be held to bail on his own recognizancee, and his ease to be sent to a jury at the assizes or sessions; when, if a verdict pass against him, he is to be imprisoned for a term to be fixed by the law, but capable of diminution by. the judge before whom he is tried. This, gentlemen, is my proposal in detail ; and perhaps it will appear to you, as it did to your predecessors, who honoured it with their ap- proval when I submitted it to them in outline, that it sufficiently guards the accused against the danger of being deprived of his liberty on fallacious grounds. In the first place no proceedings under the pro- posed law would put the convict into custody even for a day, except by the verdict of a jury,—unless, indeed, he should forfeit his recognizances by not appearing to take his trial, when he would subject himself to the well-known consequences of such a contempt. Suppose him, then, on his trial, and ob- serve how he is fenced round with protections ; covered,' as Erskine ex- prowes it, from head to foot with the panoply of the law.' In the first place, his accusers must satisfy the jury that he was at the time of his apprehension in the course of life which they charge upon him—not merely that he was so before his conviction. This evidence he will rebut, if he can, either by im- peaching the character of the witnesses, showing that their statements are false or inconclusive, orby explaining away the facts established against him. And in this part of his case, as in all other parts, he may adduce witnesses of his own. But suppose him to fail in meeting the charge. He then falls back on his second defence, and shows the manner in which he subsists. Now, if be have in truth an honest income, it is not very: easy even to imagine a set -of circumstances which disable him from proving a fact so emphatically within his own knowledge. But we will go on to suppose him defeated in this second defence. Even' then, unless he is altogether bereft of honest friends, having confidence that he will not commit crime, he finds bail and remains at liberty."

The objection to which Mr. Hill himself has thought hisplan most ob- noxious, is chiefly that it offers too many chances of escape to be practically -efficient for repressing criminals ; but the objections which others have urged, are chiefly directed against the danger of committing injustice on the convict. That such a miscarriage is within the limits of general possibility, Mr. Hill admits; but that this reproach peculiarly attaches to the trials he proposer, he ventures, "speaking from a very long experience in criminal courts,' confidently to deny. 'No tribunal is infallible. No discovery has yet been made which supplies a sure touchstone to human testimony : and if the lamentable fact that innocent men are sometimes convicted were suf- ficient for the condemnation of criminal jurisprudence, no mode of trial that the wit of man has ever invented could stand." One source of miscarriage peculiar to ordinary trials—the possibility of mistakes as to identity—does

not exist in Mr. Mrs plan. " neeptiona of this kind belong only to

momenta of time, or at all events to very short periods, and cannot occur when the question relates to general conduct and the teuour of a man's life. Moreover, when a specific offence is charged, it is no conclusive answer, nor can it be, that the prisoner had means of livelihood, and therefore is not to be supposed guilty, which in the prosecutions suggested by me it is always to

furni4Thell principle of Mr, Hill's plan is forcibly implied in this "plain ques- tion." "Is a man who has already been convicted, whose conduct is such that a jury is satisfied he is still a malefactor, who being then called on to explain how he obtains his livelihood has no answer to give, who is so dis- trusted by all the world that he cannot find bail for his good conduct—is that man' that peat of society, to remain at large ? Ought we, on the mere sur- mise that errors may creep into the trial of such persons, in spite of all the care which has been taken to exclude them, to hold back from the exercise of a jurisdiction of admitted potency for the attainment of its object, when that object is clearly of such vital importance ? "

Some objections strongly urged by the Times at the time when the alarms which were inspired by the burglaries in the Regent's Park, and in Essex i

and Surrey, were fresh n men's minds, are thus met. "Writers who evince the greatest trepidation at the proposal to which your attention has been drawn, themselves urge the adoption of an alternative infinitely moreperil ens to innocence than the most distorted imagination can figure to itself out of mine. Deliberate advice has been given that each man should defend his dwelling with fire-arms. Let us pause for a moment to examine what this advice implies. It implies, that a person suddenly aroused from sleep, in the dead of night, and in all the disturbance of mind which an impending con- flict must produce, is, while pointing his blunderbuss and drawing the trigger, to accuse, try, and condemn a suspected burglar, discerned for an instant in the dark, and to execute upon him the irrevocable doom of a capital punish.. meat! Surely for such very fastidious legislators this is a somewhat startling recommendation. But what, has resulted from the promulgation of this advice. Gentlemen, within a very short interval of time, two innocent persons, one of them an officer of police—a protector instead of an assailant—have fallen; by the hands, too, of clergymen, who, (as we should all agree,) if the power could be safely exercised by any class of the community, are best entitled to the trust, by the self-restraint and the merciful spirit which pertain to their sacred calling, and by the reluctance which, above all others, they must feel at sending a fellow creature to his account with all his sins upon his head. Nevertheless, gentlemen, if the law will permit known ruffians to remain at large, these barbarous remedies perhaps cannot, and most certainly will not, be dispensed with. Yet who does not see that any method of trial, however rude and defective, even Lynch law itself, is infinitely to be preferred ? "

Mr. Adderley M.P. occupied a seat on the bench while Mr. Hill was delivering his addre.ss to the Grand Jury.

The records of provincial crime are very full this week ; they include several cases of infanticide.

A long investigation has been proceeding at Bath, both by the Magistrates and by a Coroner's Jury, respecting the death of an illegitimate infant ; and last week the Magistrates committed the mother for trial on a charge of mur- der, while the inquest terminated with a verdict of "wilful murder" against both parents. The evidence in both inquiries was nearly the same. The mo- ther of the ehild is Miss Catherine Elizabeth Lewis, daughter of "a lady of high respectability" living at Redland, near Bristol • the father is Mr. Thomas Crosby, a solicitor of Bristol, of good practice °lid connexions, and a man of property : he is married. Some four months ago, Mr. Crosby and the young woman hired apartments of Mr. Searle, a chemist at Bath, as " Mr. and Mrs. Slater"; a child was born • the parents left, the house but the infant remained at nurse with Mrs. eari.e. It throve well ; but after "Mrs. Slater" had sailed and suckled it with an artificial teat, it grew ill-- suffered from sore lips, sickness and diarrlicea, and became emaciated- The child got better. The mother came again—again the infant was ill' and this occurred on every occasion but one that the mother visited herehild. Suspicion was excites' - the intervention of the Police followed ; and the mother was arrested and taken before the Magistrates. While the inquiry was proceeding, the infant died, and an inquest was begun. In the artificial teat traces of arsenic were found; the poison was detected in what had been rejected from the child's stomach ; the external and internal appearances of the body denoted death from poison ; arsenic was traced in the viscera. In short, the child had died from ulceration of the stomach and bowels, caused by repeated small doses of arsenic'— it had not died by the direct action of the poison : it must have suffered much. On one occasion when Miss Lewis called, and Mrs. Searle left the baby with her for a few minutes, on her return the baby was on the sofa put- ting out its tongue and licking its lips ; the eyes were closed. It vomited shortly afterwards. Mrs. Searle went to get a cloth to wipe it ; but the me.. then said "Never mind," and wiped the vomit up herself with her pocket- handkerchief. On her first visit to the child, she was accompanied by "Mr. Slater." Mrs. Searle went up to the room where the parents were, and heard "Mrs. Sister" say to "Mr. Slater," who was near her, " Shall I, or will you?" "Mr. Sister" said, " I don't care which." After they left, the child was very sick, and had diarrhcea; it shrieked and; kicked about very much. At the conclusion of the evidence at the inquest, the Coroner summed up favourably for Mr. Crosby; but twelve out of the fifteen Jurymen declared that he was an "accessory" to the poisoning. The Coroner explained, that in such cases the law considered an "accessory" in the same light as a principal; and the Jury then gave the direct verdict of "Wilful murder" against Miss Lewis and Mr. Crosby. The gentleman solemnly protested his innocence. Miss Lewis, it appears, has another child now alive and at nurse ; the father is a Barbados gentleman, with whose family Miss Lewis went to the West Indies as governess.

At Bury in Suffolk, a young woman Maria. Stewart, is in prison for the murder of two children : a third Illegitimate child is living. The wretched creature has confessed. The skeleton of the infant she first murdered has been dug up at a spot she pointed out ; and the freshly-interred corpse of the second has also been found through her information. A terrible scene oc- curred when she was examined in her cell, where she lay in bed : she bad hoped God would forgive her first murder if she were penitent; the second she feared he would not forgive; and in her terror, reason gave way. At one moment she thought she was assailing the father of the child, and at another imagined that she was clasping to her breast the murdered infant.

At Trent Bridge, near Nottingham' the body. of an infant has been found on the abutment of a pier : the right arm and leg were tied together, and a piece of coal attached ; the living child had been thrown from the bridge, a height of fifty feet, and its brains were dashed out.

At Clare, also in Suffolk, Ann Cornell, a married woman' died in. a way that has led to a suspicion of foul play by William Rawlinson. Mary Raw- linson, his daughter-in-law, was ill several times after eating those who partook of the same food were also ill ; Mary was attended by 'Ann Cornell, who died after eating of a mutton pudding. It is suspected that William. Rawlinson put arsenic in the food. The body of Ann Cornell has been dia. interred. Rawlinson is in custody.

Hester Radford, a girl of seventeen, died suddenly at Great Bradley in Suf- folk. Two of her sisters and two children of their aunt were taken ill at the seine time as Hester. The deceased "kept company" with a young man. It is said that portions of a plant used to procure abortion have been found in her stomach.

Three men are in custody for the murder of the poor girl Watts, near Erome. Against one the case appears strong : be was overheard speaking to a man unknown respecting the murder, in a way that showed he land some- thing to do with it; he had wound; there were marks of blood on his clothse. and other suspicious circumstances came out.

Mr. Livington, a cotton-broker of Liverpool. WU robbed of his watch, money, and papers, on the evening of the 8th instant, near his residence in Bold Street. One man grasped his throat, another held his arms, and a third stood in front and rifled his pockets. The latter Mr. Livington dis- tinctly saw; and a man having recently been arrested with that gentleman's watch. in his possession, he has been identified as the thief.

A serious collision occurred on the Great Northern Railway, at Kirkstead, early on Friday morning last week. The train which leaves London at night approached the Kirkstead station, where it did not atop, at a speed of thirty miles. A train of empty carriages was standing on the down-line ; they were about to be removed to a siding to allow the passenger-train to pass; but in the mean time, it would appear that no signal was given that the rails were not clear. The break-van of the stationary train was shat- tered to pieces, while a number of the carriages were lifted completely over the engine and tender of the advancing train. The stoker was thrown off, and desperately hurt; though the locomotive was smashed, the driver es- caped almost unhurt, the empty carriages piled above him forming a pro- tection. The passengers suffered from sprains and bruises. They were ter- rified by the sudden crash in the middle of the night, when most of them were asleep.

A luggage-train has met with an accident near Crewe, which probably would have been a very sad affair had it happened to a passenger-train. During the night, the train came in contact with a wheel which had broken from a train on the other line of rails: the shock was terrific ; on the line a mass of wreck was piled up twenty-five feet high, while several carriages went down an embankment. The people in charge of the train seem to have ceeaped unhurt. Some sheep were killed.

A great fire occurred at Enfield on Wednesday, on the farm-steading of Mr. Paris. It originated in a shed, from a kettle of tar boiling over; and for many hours the flames spread from barn to barn and from rick to rick, till a very large amount of property had been destroyed.

Eight houses have been burnt down at Kentisheer, near Collumpton, with a loss of two lives. An old lady ran into a burning house to endeavour to save valuable property ; the flames surrounded her, and she was unable to escape : a man was removing goods from another house, when a great mass of fire fell upon him.

A number of poor habitations are erected under the ancient and tottering city-wall of Carnarvon, in the ditch. The other day a part of the wall fell down, overwhelming a hovel in which were eight persons; six were got out alive, but a woman and her child perished.