Monmouthshire Merlin

REPORTS OF COMMITTEES ON RAILWAY BILLS. ELY TIDAL HARBOUR AND RAILWAY. Mr. Corry reported from the Committee on Group 7 of Railway Bills that the proposed additional capital to be raised by the company is £192,000, and the amount of loan £ 64,000. The amount of shares subscribed for is £ 144,000, and the deposits paid thereon £ 14,000. The length of N). 1. railway is two miles nine chains, and of No. 2, four furlongs 2 80 chains. The steepest gradient is one in 72. The lines are proposed to be constructed on the narrow gauge, but with power to adapt them to the broad gauge in the event of the company's authorised line, with which the proposed new lines will communi- cate, being constructed on the mixed gauge, as already authorized. The estimated cost of the proposed railways is f42,000, and of the dock and other works £ 150,000— together £ 192,000. The quantity of land required is 105 acres. Mr. J. Hawkshaw was th engineer examined in support of the Bill, and the Committee were satisfied of the fitness in an engineering point of view of the pro- posed railways. ELY VALLEY. Mr. Corry reported from the committee that the pro- posed capital of the company is JE70,000, and the amount of loan £ 23,000. The amount of shares subscribed for is £54,100, and the deposits paid thereon amount to £ 5,410. The length of the proposed railway is 8 miles 13 chains, and it is proposed to construct it on the broad gauge of 7 feet. The steepest gradient is 1 in 40, and it is intended that the railway should cross on the level five roads. The estimated cost of the railway is j670,000, and the quantity of land required 721 acres. Mr. J. Payne was the engineer examined in support of the Bill, and the committee were satisfied of the fitness in an engi- neering point of view of the proposed railway.

MURDER OF A WIFE-On Monday, at the sittings of the magistrates at Stratford, Michael Crawley, a labourer, an ill-looking old man, aged 62, was examined on the charge of having murdered his wife, Mary Crawley, also aged 62, by beating in her skull with a billhook. The unhappy couple lived in Well. street, Stratford. The prisoner was a jobbing labourer, and two or three days last week was employed haymaking on Hackney-marshes. He was of drunken habits, and had before been in cus- tody for ill-treating his wife, who went about selling small parcels of greengrocery. On Friday night he came home after expending the wages he had earned during the day. On the following Saturday morning, after partaking of breakfast, he demanded Is. 6d., which he seems to have known his wife had about her. She refused it, having to purchase her small stock of green- grocery. He muttered some strong language to her, and a married daughter, Mrs. Willy, who was living in the house with them, stated that he vowed" he would do" for her if she did not comply with his wish. The daugh- ter did not think seriously about his threat, as he had oftened threatened her, and left about half-past 8 for the purpose of buying a few articles. She returned at half- past 9, and on going up to her mother's bedroom found her lying on the floor in a pool of blood. The old woman's head had been frightfully battered in several places, and a portion of the brain protruded. The daughter immediately gave the alarm, and the neighbours and police came to her aid. The deceased was found to be breathing, although quite insensible. The prisoner was nowhere to be found. On search being made lor the weapon which had been used by the prisoner, the daugh- ter found in a cupboard in the room a heavy iron chopper, the edges of which were covered with blood, with por- tions of hair adhering to it. Dr. Vallance, surgeon, of Stratford, was promptly in attendance, and on examining the deceased, 17 cuts were found about her head and body. It was thought that the prisoner had at first struck at her head with the billhook" part of the chopper, and having succeeded in rendering her insensible, which would account for no screams being heard by the neighbours, he cut at her in his frenzy in all directions. She was removed to the union, and lived till the following morning, although quite unconscious. Early on Monday, morning police officer 18 K came up with the prisoner in the Ilford road a short distance beyond Stratford, and immediately apprehended him. His clothes were wet, and he stated that he had fallen into a ditch. He was convtyed to the W. st-Ham police station, and on being informed by Sergeant Walker, 18 K, of the serious charge against him and cautioned in the usual terms, he replied, dropping his head in a careless manner, It is a bad job; I have done it, and I was coming to the station to give myself up." He further added that he had taken the Is. 6d. from the deceased's pocket, and that he had burnt the pawnbrokers' duplicates. Dr. Vallance gave evidence of the wounds inflicted on the unfortunate woman, and the billhaok with which the deed was committed was produced, and was besmeared with blood and hair. In answer to the Bench as to whether the prisoner wished to say anything to the charge he made no reply. The magistrates then remanded him to Ilford Gaol to await the result of the coroner's inquest.

On Wednesday, Rebecca Rose Hamilton was tried before the Central Criminal Court for sending a threat- ening letter to Mr. Ailingham, a surgeon in Moorgate- street. The writer threatened to accuse Mr. Allingham of infamous conduct, unless he sent money to a certain address. He knew nothing of the writer. For some time past, it appears, hundreds of similar letters have been sent to gentlemen in the City, and it is alleged that Hamilton was the writer. She was found guilty in Mr. Allingham's case, and Mr. Baron Watson sentenced her to transportation for life. J 6'

THE LATE DOUGLAS JERROLD. The following passages are extracted from an obituary in the Athenccum :— He knew the whole of Sbakspere by heart, and every noble line or beautiful image in Faust and the Inferno slept within his lips like the charge in a gun. He de. lighted in Eddas and Zendavestas, in the lore of the Rabbis, in science and in the mysteries of the schoolmen. Lightfoot was familiar to him as Rabelais and Mon- taigne, Bacon as Fuller and Donne. Among the theatrical folks who played on his father's I stage he remembered Edmund Kean with peculiar Vivid- ( ness; for the descendant of Halifax pleased him by carrying him on the boards in Rolla, and still more by his whimsicalities in the pantomime. He appeared also on the stage with Kean as the Stranger's child. Author and actor came together afterwards at Drury-lane—in Jerrold s early London life; Kean, who remembered Jerrold, gave him orders and oranges, and Jerrold paid him in admiration and epigrams. His commander (on shipboard,) Captain Austen, brother of the great novelist, was fond of theatricals, and the officers got up private plays. A man before the mast painted the scenery and Jerrold superintended the stage. That man before the mast was Stanfield, our incompara- ble marine artist. When Jerrold was transferred to an- other ship they parted company—to meet again after long years on the stage of Drury-lane, when Stanfield was painting scenery for The Rent Day." Out of these youthful recollections arose, we believe, that series of amateur theatricals which introduced the extraordinary histrionic genius of Mr. Dickens and Mr. Mark Lemon to the public, which secured honourable means to two veteran authors, and made the charm of so many Lon- don seasons. A party of friends were walking over I Richmond-park, chatting of other days, when Jerrold cries—"Let's have a play, Stanfield, like we had on board the Namur." Mr. Dickens took up the tale and was acclaimed manager; Every Man in his Humour" was selected, the parts were cast and the row beg^n. Black-Eyed Susan," the most successful of his naval plays was written when he was scarcely twenty years old -a piece which made the fortune of the Surrey Theatre —restored Elliston from a long course of disastrous mis- management-and gave honour and independence to T. P. Cooke. Indeed, no dramatic work of ancient or modern days ever reached the success of this play. On the 300th night of representation the walls of the theatre were illuminated, and vast multitudes filled the thorougfares. Testimonials were got up for Ellison and for Cooke on the glory of its success. But Jerrold's share of the gain was slight-about JE70 of the many thousands which it realised for the management. With unapproachable meanness, Elliston abstained from presenting the youth- ful writer with the value of a toothpick; and Elliston's biographer, with a kindred sense of poetic justice, while chaunting the praise of Elliston for producing Black- Eyed Susan," forgets to say who wrote the play When the drama had run 300 nights, Elliston said to Jerrold with amusing coolness, My dear boy, why don't you get your friends to present you with a bit of plate ? His wit was so prodigal, and he prized it so little, save as a delight to others, that he threw it away like dust, never caring for the bright children of his brain, and smiling with complacent kindness at people who repeated to him his jests-as their own At the least demur, too, he would surrender his most happy allusions and his most trenchant hits. In one of his p'ays an old sailor, trying to snatch a kiss from a pretty girl—as old sailors will- got a box on the ear. There," exclaimed Blue-jacket, "like my luck; always wrecked on the coral reefs!" The manager, when the play was read in the green-room, could not see the fun, and Jerrold struck it out. A friend made a captious remark on a very characteristic touch in a manuscript comedy-and the touch went out :-a cynical dog; in a wrangle with his much better-halt said to her, "My notion of a wife at forty is, that a man should be able to manage her, like a bank note, for two twenties." He worked his way into notice as a prose writer of a very brilliant and original type-chit.fly through the periodicals. His passion was periodicity—the power of being able to throw his emotions daily, or weekly, into the common reservoirs of thought. Silence was to him a pain like hunger. He must talk-act upon men— briefly, rapidly, irresistibly. For many years he brooded over the thought of Punch. He even found a publisher -and a v. ood-engraver—and a suitable Punch appeared but the publisher was less rich in funds than he in epi- grams, and after five or six numbers the bantling died. Some time later, his son-in-law, Mr. Mayhew, revived the thought-md our merry companion-now of world- wide name—appeared. His place among the wits of our own time is clear enough. He bad less frolic than Theodore Hook, less elaborate humour than Sydney Smith, less quibble and quaintness than Thomas Hood. But he surpassed all these in intellectual flash and strength. His wit was all steel points—and his talk was like squadrons of lancers in evolution. Not one pun, we have heard, nas to be found in his writings. His wit stood nearer to poetic fancy than to broad humour. The exquisite confusion of his tipsy gentleman, who, after scraping the door for an hour with his latch-key, leans backs and exclaims, By Jove some scoundrel has stolen—stolen—the key- hole comci as near farce as any of his illustrations. His celeorated definition of Dogmatism as Pupyism come to maturity," looks like a happy pun-but is something far more deep and philosophic. Between this, however, and such fancies as his description of Austra- lia-" A land so fat, that if you tickle it with a straw, it laughs with a harvest"—the distance is not great. In his earlier time, before age and success had mellowed him to his best, he was sometimes accused of ill-nature, a charge which he vehemently resented, and seemed only ludicrous to those privileged with his friendship. To folly, pretence, and asaumption he gave no quarter, though in fair fight; and som" of those who tried lancss with him long remembered his home thrust. We may give two instances without offence, for the combatants are all gone from the scene. One of those playwrights who occupied Old Drury, under the French, against whom he waged ceaseless war of epigram, was describing himself as suffering from fever of the brain. Courage, my good fellow," says Jerrold, "there is no foundation for the fact." When the flight of Guizot and Louis Philippe from Paris was the fresh talk of London, a writer of no great parts was abusing the revolution and pitying Guizot. You see," he observed, Guizot and I are both historians-we row in the same boat."—"Aye, aye," says Jerrold, but not with the same se(ills." Yet such personal encounters were but the play of the panther. No man ever used such powers with greater gentleness. Indeed, to speak the plain truth, his filult as a man-if it be a fault-was a too great tenderness of heart. He never could say, No. His purse—when he bad a purse-was at every man's service, as were also his time, his pen, and his influence in the world. If he possessed a shilling, somebody would get sixpence of it from him. He had a lending look, of which many took advantage. The first time be everaaw Tom Dibden, that worthy gentleman and song-writer said to him— "Youngster, have you sufficient confidence in me to lend me a guinea ?" Oh, yes," said the author of Black- Eyed Susan." I have all the confidence, but I haven't the guinea." A generosity which knew no limit-not even the limit of his bankers-led him into trials from which a colder man would have easily escaped. To give all that he possessed to relieve a brother from immediate trouble was nothing; he as willingly mortgaged his fu- ture tor a friend as another man would bestow his ad- vice or his blessing. And yet this man was accused of ill nature! If every one who received a kindness at his hands should lav a flower on his tomb, a mountain of roses would rise on the last resting-place of Douglas Jerrold.

Mr. Charles Kean has revived the Tempest," at the Princess's Theatre, for his benefit. A WARMING TO SHIPPERS.—The shipping at St. Katharine's Docks had a narrow escape of being burnt on Friday uiorniug. A lighter, with a quantity of packages from the East India Docks, shut out from the Nie, was taken into St. Katharine's Docks, about two o'clock on Friday morning. About three o'clock th« policeman on duty saw smoke passing out under t tarpauling, and at once gave the alarm -ind "n0er Vle the top, fire burst fonh from the ?n opening part of the lighter, which was most a^6s ln *e *°,e Lino. u„til some hadb" more or less des.royed Th* „ many others appears to have been the bre!k^Q"% tl,Uk dls,ast% niiric acid in one of tl.o « ,dltdSe of some bottles oT touplM. w itTiJht U Dackai/H h»on J e ^eeQ tbe result b^tjers ) pU}C/d °n board the Nile, as the j ded it should have been, for the chances < the same ignition vtould have taken pla<5%g^lj nf ship and crew would never have be'"

LORD CLIVE. On this very day one hundred years ago, the magnifi- cent Empire of Britain in the East was founded by the genius and daring of a single man. To that man, after this lapse of years, it is now proposed to erect a monu- ment, and a meeting will this morning be held to put the design in proper train. Our words are not overcharged. Beyond doubt the valour and abilities of thousands have been expended on the maintenance and extension of that dazzling structure of power which has risen on the Ganges beyond doubt we owe to it the unceasing efforts of our statesmen and soldiers that this marvellous fabric of conquest has been steadily consolidated and enlarged. Our position could only have been preserved by the same arts which acquired it; but, if ever mighty revolution could be attributed to a single man, that man was Robert Ciive. In the year 1757, the potentate known as the Great Mogul was still enthroned at Delhi, nor had his power been curtailed by any encroachments but those of his own vassals. These vassals, however, were established in independent sovereignties, and of such sovereignties the most splendid was that of Bengal-a province to this day retaining a supremacy in dignity and wealth. The residence of the Nabob, or virtual monarch, of the terri- tory was at Moorshedabad; it was only in some factories near the sea that a few traders, less secure than even the British merchants at Canton, represented the interests of England. In the province of Madras, the British power was more assured and developed, though there only through the self-same agencies which were soon to esta- blish it in Bengal. Clive had gone out to Madras as a cl rk, had found the enemies of England in the ascen- dant, and bad by a series of military exploits, in which the capture and defence of Arcot stood brilliantly con- spicuous, retrieved and exalted the credit of our arms. But India was not to be won in Madras. It was on the Ganges that the great prize was to be gained, and to this famous scene of romance and riches the calamities of his countrymen soon summoned Olive, Suraiah Dowlah, the Nabob of Bengal, was a youth about 20 years of age, with more than the average follies and vices of Oriental Royalty. Out of caprice, or wan- tonness, or malice, he marched from his capital with a powerful force against our little settlement at Fort William, and, finding no Clive in the garrison, carried the place and sacked it. This was on the 20th of June, 1756. In the night which ensued occurred that dreadful tragedy, even now related with horror, when upwards of 100 Englishmen were smothered in the Black Hole, while the Nabob was reposing after his conquest. The capture of the settlement and the miseries of the British were communicated with all speed to the superior power then established at Madras, but it was only in the first week in August that intelligence-now transmissible in a dozen secon Is-reached Fort St. George from Fort William. The alacrity of the authorities, however, could not be surpassed in the present day, for in eight and forty hours it was resolved to despatch a force to the relief of the sufferers, and in December Calcutta witnessed the ar- rival of 1,000 European soldiers, 1,500 Sepoys, and Robert Clive. In a few days the new commander had re- covered the fort and retrieved our position but such a victory was insufficient, and to the mind of Clive it did not seem extravagant to project the dethronement of a Prince who ruled over 30 millions of subjects and the fairest province of Hindostan. With his little force he marched towards Moorshedabad, and then followed that momentous crisis in which the fate of India was to be determined. Surajah Dowlah had advanced from his capital as far as Plassy-a town lying a few miles to the east of the Suorool station on the E-ist Indian Railway. A river separated the two armies, and Clive, uncertain of his position, and suspecting treach ry in those who had pro- mised treason, had to decide whether he would stake the lives of his whole force and the very existence of British power in a battle with an adversary possessing 50 times his strength. The Nabob had 40,000 infantry, not alto- gether ignorant ot European discipline, 15,000 excellent cavalry, composed of the same mat, rial from which we raise our own irregulars, and 50 guns of large calibre. Clive had a sing'e English Regiment, the 39tb, muster- ing some 900 rmn, about 100 European Artillerymen, half as many British sailors, and some 2,000 Sepoys. It was a terrible moment, for no man then knew the relative prowess of English and native troops, and it was for Clive to make the discovery at the hazard of his all. Never before thrtt time, or after it, was he known to hesitate, but he now called a Council of War, and, what was still more extraordinary, he concurred in the natural resolution ot such a meeting not to fight. But after the Council broke up he retired from the tent and communed in solitude with a better adviser-his own daring spirit. The result appeared presently in a decisive order that the army should pass the river. There was nothing but this decision required. The mountain vanished as he approached it. There was no fight, no struggle-scarcely any bloodshed. He had taken the leap in the dark, and he found himself, firm and unassailable, upon his feet. With a loss of 20 men on his own side and only 500 on the side of his antago- nist, he had upset the dominion of the Viceroy and transformed the English from tenants at will of Fort William into governors of Bengal. From that hour our whole position in India was changed, and a career of conquest was inaugurated which difficulties and even disasters have occasionally attended, but which no re- verse has even checked. The great Empire of the East was opened to us by the victory of this very day, by the audacity and discernment which led a battalion against a host, which detected the hollowness of a barbaric show, and counted with confidence on the British bayonet. Many have done it since, but Clive led the way. Others^ like Wellesley at Assaye, like Lake at Laswarree, and Gough at Chillianwallah, have encountered far more ter- rible relalities, but Clive first advanced courageously against, a monster on the perilous specul .tion of finding it a phantom. He founded the reputation of the British arms, and with this reputation the Empire of the Eist. It was not only that the rich province of Beng il p issed into our hands, and gave us at once territorial dignity and monarchical power, but the example had been set and the path marked out. Clive has bad many noble successors, but the honour due to a founder is his alone. And what is that he has founded ? Not only a dominion from which we may import at our pleasure al- most all the precious commodities of the world, but an empire In which thousands of Englishmen of every generation can find scope for their enterprise and recom- pense for their toil. Ships, Colonies, and Commerce have not been of more service to us than this famous land, which does not, it is true, pour forth gold and dia- monds, but which, by providing for the natural expansion ot an adventurous race, effects more than the mines of Peru could accomplish for the progress of the nation and the happiness of the country. We need never look for revenue from India. No tribute that could be paid by one State to another would be half equal in value to such a field of advancement as-India supplies, and at this very time, indeed, some of the latest exertions of our legislators have been occupied in stimulating the honourable ambition of youth by a better prospect of those prizes which Clive first opened to Brit,in a cen- tury ago. What England then needed in the East was a man who could so far outstrip his contemporaries as to take a true measure of Englishmen and Asiatics who could extend his views beyond the horizon of merl canule contentment, who could dare everything before daring had been found safe, and who could realize bv th! inner vision of genius a conquest so wonderful as pass ordinary belief. That man was iorthr- • -r* Robert Clive, and all that a nation owes to a f P8 empire and a pioneer of glory is f fuunder"f me mory.—Times, Tuesday. Y 13 from us toJ^>1

Telegraphic communicatiorT be opened with America in n.i expect^ SUICIDE IN THE PUINCKSS'SUTHEA*^R^R?RURSDAY morning a potman I » rriucess Victoria, Castle. -streetOxfiL ™P Td in th° habi*of ,h. bail,!™ wi ll th« f collec'iDg some pots left Ou tlip ,n_tentlg|J^ Wii3 sho*j af(erwaids d? n/Ju PTuOU* eve?'2fr officials to have committed f" "•> COVERS OF NEWSPAPERS FOB POSTAL F'Sp0SES —Weunderstand lhat lhe Lords of rl!« 'I'rc Jr^llave Banc,ione<l the proposal submitted by Wf.J'nI>l!Fra"cls:to the Hon, the Chancellor Afie Lxchequer, tor stamping the covers of newspaper Jfgents with an impressed stamp, having a rim attached expressing the name and address of the sender. Au- thority has also, we learn, been given to the Board of Inland Revenue to make a new stamp, denoting a three- penny rate of postage-a stamp that will prove of special service in respect to the large number of newspapers now transmitted to India, via Marseilles.

MISCELLANEOUS. Miss Emma Gurney, a member of the well-knowa Gurney family, and a lady of some little note in the literary and scientific world, died a few davs since. Miat Gurney published an excellent translation of the Sawn Chronicle, and, living at Nortbrepps, near the coast, she took a lively interest m inventions for saving the Uvea of shipwrecked mariners. To promote the latter object she had a gun manufactured at her own expense to fire off a line to a storm-tossed wreck. Miss Gurney at the time of her death was 61 years of age. CORNWALL AND CARDIGANSHIRE—PRACTICAL MINING* —Although it is easy to prove that CardiganstrlM derives a greater relative profit from the capital invested in its mines during the last twenty years than Cornwall the per centage of interest being considerably greater, yet it must be admitted that the advantages of practical mining are greatly in favour of Cornwall—that is to say that Cornishmen work their mines with much greater spirit than those of Cardiganshire. For example, during the last twenty years, the mines of Cardiganshire, not- withstanding the great profits they have afforded, have not been sunk on an average, 3 fms. a year, while the good dividend mines of Cornwall, such as Wheal Buller. and Alfred Consols, have not been sunk leas than 10 fathoms a year-that is to say the ore ground of the iodew of Cornwall has been worked three times faster than that of Cardiganshire. So slow has been the progress of the working mines in Cardiganshire, that although the veins of metal in this district have been attacked time out of mind, and a tolerably connected history for the last three hundred years of the work done, is extant, yet in no instance have the underground workings reached to a depth of 100 fms. beiow the in; in adit. It will be evident to those accustomed to mining questions, that if the engine-shafts had been sunk faster in Cardiganshire three limes as much ore ground would have been venti- lated, and laid out in proper sections for working, at the same time that the sales would have been three ttmes greater and that, inasmuch as many items of cost are not increased by a rapid system of working, the profits of the different companies engaged in this auspicious district would have been doubled or trebled, and that the whole history of its mines would have received a very refreshing impetus. Again, some of the great Cardigan- shire mines have been suspended for years in this tÎlou- for instance, Cwmystwitb, which, in the first 11 years of the last 20, produced a profit of £ 120,000., was then sua* pended, although only 30 fms. under the adit, and after a rresumtion of work, is now again bringing dividends of some thousands a year. The Welsh Potosi, which sold £7000 or L8000 worth of silver-lead during the past year, has not yet been drained to the bottom level, which is 30 fms. below adit. Goginan, which made jE60 000 profits, the sinking has been suspended at 80 below the deep adit. But notwithstanding these checks, and the slow system of working generally practised in Cardigan- shire, a number of established mines have long been paying fully cent. per cent. upon the outlay, and a num- ber of young but advancing mines ara making rapid progress towards profits and the whole mining outlay of Cardiganshire is receiving an interest of 25 per cent., taking one mine with, another, and including every mine.—Mining Journal. VENTILATION OF COLLIERIES.—Mr. W. Hopton, of Carlton, near Wakefield, has forwarded to us a plan for the better ventilation of coal mines. This is, as wellr illustrated with a section of the workings at Lund Hill, previous to the late dreadful explosion. One of his pro- positions is, there should be separate wind-courses in every part, so that if the gas should explode in one set it will be almost exclusively confined to that particular portion, and have but little effect elsewhere, inasmuch aa each set ot miners has its own wind fresh from the downcast, although by this, if the mine were divided into twelve sets, each would only receive a twelfth part of the air yet only one twenty-fourth of the gas would be allowed to enter the working part; not as is at pre- sent the case, where the greater portion of the gas from the groves and return air-gates is allowed to enter the workings. The number of doors he observes are too numerous. He recommenda-1. xhat at the top of each shaft there should be sufficient room for the air to ascend and descend in the miue.-2. That the shafts be large enough, and free from waterfalls.-3. To have two furnaces.-4. The air-gates to be of sufficient area — 5. Never to have more works than can be ventilated with safety.-6. Every stopping to be made of bricks and lime.-7. Examine every set or air-course wllb an ane- mometer.-8. That every set be separately winded in a pit. It will be seen that the above suggestions are eminently practical. Mr. Hopton has had a long ex- penence in the working of collieries, and, therefore, any proposition emanating from such a source should be re- garded with attention.—Mining Journal. CURIOUS ANTIQUARIAN DISCOVERY AT THE BTB RousE.-A very interesting exploration has been made by Mr Teale, under the ancient gateway of the Rye House Castle. A tradition has been handed down that a subterranean passage extended from the Rye House Castle to Nether Hall, Essex. Mr. Teale determined on ascertaining somewhat respecting the truth of the story • and accordingly a few weeks since, he commenced exca- vating under the back-staircase of the tower. After clearing out several cart-loads of e.,rto, a passage was discovered, descending round the central foundation of the staircase. After going to a considerable depth, there was found a huge stone, which might have served for a coffin, but which, from the position in which it was placed, had probably served as a living prison. A passage was next found, leading off westerly trom the tower and after proceeding some y..rds, a cell was discovered, with huge iron door and grating inside this cell is a seat of brickwork running the length of the interior, eight or ten feet. A faint ray of light glimmers in from above but on first viewing it through the grating all seems profound darkness. A more gloomy place, or one calculated to afford a better idea of the way in which political or other offenders were immured in olden times, can scarcely be seen in the present day. We certainly never inspected any place which could impress the horrors of captivity— as practised in England centuries ago—more strongly on the mind. A passage branching off north under an arched doorway, near the cell grating, has been blocked up for the present another leading south was cleared out and explored, and an entrance has been nitide from it into the garden south of the tower. Some curioua specimens of antiquity were found coins, some Roman others of Henry Second's time a sword, a very remark* 6 spear richly and elaborately ornamented, and other weapons of warfare but no remains of human K^if; have at present been brought to light. The roof of th! passage near the cell presents a remarkable apnear/n^ huge stalactites of a dingy grey cast han* fromuj to? 1 some of immense size i and the action of the d!m?PL~ caused the sides of the gloomy passage fn P ha* crystalline appearance. The result of h Prest;nt a will, of course, induce Mr Teal* t exc:avatio,1, researches but meanwhile thn a;! connnue hi* interest to attract the W'C,S marvellous, and the mvsteri ^vers of the oU, the very powe.ful ntira and to add another and a alread? IIUracll0Q the various ones which County Herald. Visitors to Hou8e*~ LONDON PROPERTY -Th- gross property is insured at *166,000,000, and only two-fifths of the houses ar« insured. The am<»jw»4 of C(iPital at the command of the entire London P^kera lOay be estimated at sixty-four millions 1Dsurance companies have always ten miUioai^dep0SlU read>r for ^vestment; seventy-eiaht are emPloyed m discounts. In 1841 the tran -jtfious in one London house alone amounted to thirtv ^millions. In 1839 the payments made in the clearing house were 9o4 millions—an enormous sum whioh appear still greater when we remember all sums under £ 100 are omitted from this statement. All this busing cannot be carried on without a considerable amoun! 5 pigs, 1,600,000 quarters ofThe^ C'« £ potatoes, 99,672,000 cabbages. Of fiJ, th„ J* 1,281,000 game exclusive of those brought from Uie different parts o the United Kingdom, from sevemy to seventy-five millions of eggs are annually import, d into London from France and other countries! About 13 000 cows are kept iQ the city and its environs for the supplj of milk and cream and if we add to their value that of the cheese, and butter, and Ulilk brought from the country into the city, the expenditure on produce dailr must be enormous. Then London consumed 66 000 pipes of wine, 2,000,000 gallons of spirits, 43,200*000 gallons of p irter and ale, and burns 3,000,000 tona oT coals and 1 have seen it eatimated.that one-fourth of the commerce of the nation is carried on iu its pott.—