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TO-DAY, again, we have columns of speeches on the Irish question. The reader is apt to be bewildered, and, perhaps, a little bored, by this eternal discussion of the same theme; and even the ablest speakers find it difficult to infuse any newness of life, of thought, or of language into the well-worn topic. But this is one of the penalties of Unionist policy, and also one of its condemnations. It is evident that Ireland continues, and will continue, to be the one great absorbing and almost solitary subject of political controversy until the Irish question is settled. We have our fierce wants in this country - our intolerable grievances, our time-worn questions - that appeal for settlement. At this moment and in this very city, we stand appalled and dazed and helpless before a fiendish outbreak of crime. Murder stalks abroad in our most crowded thoroughfares, and we can't catch the murderer. The bloody work of his hands has opened the eyes of the whole community to the vast mass of squalor, despair, and degradation which exists in our midst, and not a gunshot from the homes of the most lavish luxury and the most boundless wealth of the world. But there is no time left to consider, much less to deal with, these momentous subjects. The fate of the small island by our side, with a population less than that of this one great city, stands between us and the consideration of topics affecting the thirty millions of Great Britain. Three reflections come to us as an inevitable inference from this state of things: first, that we want Home Rule for England as much as Home Rule for Ireland, for at present the servitude of Ireland to England is not one whit more complete than the servitude of England to Ireland; secondly, that it is precisely because Ireland thus stands in the way of all English reform that the Tories and the Whigs have so little objection to Ireland's monopolising public attention; and third, that every day more and more confirms the great word of Mr. GLADSTONE - Ireland blocks the way.

The speeches of Lord ROSEBERY and Sir WILLIAM HARCOURT are alike in their temper. They show a spirit of confidence that reflects faithfully the feeling of Liberals throughout the whole country. Everywhere the conviction is not growing, but already grown, that the next election will end in a rout of the Tory party and in the installation of Mr. GLADSTONE in office with such a majority as will enable him to finally settle the Irish question. This feeling has reached a perceptible increase of intensity and fervor within the last two weeks. Why is this? It is not that the Tories have shown any sign of relaxing their relentlessness; it is not that the Unionists have displayed any symptom of contrition. On the contrary, the last speeches of the Tories are more Coercionist than they ever were before; while the latest addresses of the Unionists make pledges of bondage to the Tory party more servile and more enduring than ever before. The reasons of the exultation in the Liberal ranks are just two - the speech of Mr. BALFOUR and the speech of Lord HARTINGTON.

We are glad that the moment these utterances appeared, we fastened on them in this journal as marking an epoch and a historic turning-point in the Irish controversy. Coercion we have always thought was to the nation like whisky to the individual; a considerable quantity can be swallowed - apparently without evil result; but at last there comes a moment when the stomach will bear no more of the one or the other. The speech of Mr. BALFOUR was the last drop of Coercion which the stomach of the country couldn't stand. Its ferocious joy in cruelty - its savage delight in torture - its merriment over the tomb of dead and the cries of still living opponents - appropriately compared by Sir WILLIAM HARCOURT to the outrages by which savage tribes accompany the execution of their enemies - all these brutalities just gave the final finishing touch to coercion; and the disgust, hatred, and condemnation of the country might be regarded as complete.

Lord HARTINGTON'S speech came opportunely to crown the work of disillusion and indignation that Mr. BALFOUR had begun. The second speech was the logical, necessary, and useful complement of the other. Mr. BALFOUR had shown to a disgusted and sickened nation what Coercion in practice means; and then came Lord HARTINGTON to declare that Coercion - perpetual Coercion - was the one remedy that he and his party had to offer to the peoples of England and Ireland. There is nothing we firmly believe the English people would not prefer to this cheerless, hopeless, odious prospect. And so the Liberal leaders are exultant. Our enemies have delivered themselves into our hands. It has taken more than two years of shame and suffering and hideous brutalities, but at last we have now brought the nation to the clear issue and the final question - either perpetual Coercion or Home Rule. When Mr. GLADSTONE puts that mighty interrogatory to the people again, they will vote with opened eyes and decisive judgment, and then there will be no more of the BALFOURS, and the CHAMBERLAINS, and the HARTINGTONS. The Coercionists will be destroyed, but the peoples will be reconciled.

WE lately directed attention to the advertising columns of the Times, and showed how entirely Mr. Walter's paper had lost the position it once held as the leading commercial organ. We pointed out that the advertisements were invariably smaller in number than those of the Telegraph; and that the "leading journal" was even outstripped by the Standard. We have been making a similar comparison between the Unionist Scotsman, once the Times of Scotland, and its Gladstonian rival, the Leader. A few short years - nay, months - ago, the position of the Scotsman as an advertising organ was unassailed, and was thought to be unassailable. Even men who read the Leader and preferred its opinions were compelled to spend their money on the Unionist organ.

ADVERTISEMENTS, however, have in the end followed opinion; and now the two journals have changed places. The tremendous ascendency of the Scotsman has not only been affected - it is gone. We find that the advertisements of the Leader exceed those of the Scotsman by five columns. This excess is apparent on an average two days a week. People who do not know what the Scotsman has been to Scotland cannot realise in a moment what this means; but a more significant proof of the death of Scottish Unionism could not be given. The breaking down of a great commercial position, which ninety-nine journalists out of a hundred would two years ago have pronounced off-hand as absolutely impregnable, discrowns not only the Scotsman, but Lord Hartington. We congratulate our contemporary, the Leader, but above all we congratulate Scotland.

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LYCEUM THEATRE. - Sole Lessee, Mr. Henry Irving.
Box-office (Mr. J. Hurst) open 10 to 5.

The Total Circulation of
For the Six Days ending 6 Oct. was

[On A Hot Scent Sketch]

Mr. Quilter Expresses a Plain Opinion about the Stage.

Mr. Harry Quilter takes up the cudgels on behalf of his excellent magazine, the Universal Review, and his contributor, Mr. George Moore, in this morning's Times. Referring to Mr. Irving's "extremely violent" talk, he says: - I need hardly go further than Mr. Irving's speech itself for a proof of the truth of the main contention which has so enraged him, since there is to be found in every passionate sentence, almost in every phrase, not only the expression of an irritable vanity, but a superb astonishment that any editor should have dared to publish, even if any author dared to write, opinions which Mr. Irving, as representative of the actor, found so displeasing. Not content with calling poor Mr. Moore "a blockhead," a "flippant lampooner," a "spiteful writer," a "tasteless trifler," "malicious," "irresponsible," "sensational," and "untrue," the actor complains of him as "impertinent," and has the assurance (for really no other word is possible) to reprimand myself for allowing such an article to appear in "a magazine that was aiming to hold an honorable position." The implied idea is evident: it is


to say, and disreputable of an editor to publish, anything that is unpleasant about the actor. The soft winds of praise and flattery are to be the only ones allowed to breathe upon the stage. The professional critics, upon whom, of course, a tremendous influence can be, and habitually is, brought to bear, are alone to be allowed to express an opinion on theatrical matters, and any attempt to open the eyes of the public is to be met, in default of reason and argument, by the use of such epithets as I have quoted above. For Mr. Irving as an after-dinner controversialist, laying down the law upon what may and may not be said about the dramatic profession, I have no respect whatever. The truth is this. The present


The dramatic profession is, generally speaking, a dangerous one for women, an undesirable one for men; and, moreover, it is not one entitled to rank equally with those great professions which are concerned with the serious matters of life instead of its amusements. Against purity and nobility there are invariably arrayed the "big battalions"; and the attempt to place the actor on a pinnacle as a social instructor or a moral inspirationist is an attempt ridiculous in itself, and inevitably doomed to failure. To point the way in matters which affect the well-being of society, in the broadest sense of that much abused word, is, in my belief, one of the most imperative, as it is certainly one of the most dangerous, duties of a review editor, and in discharge of this duty I deliberately ordered this article to be written; and I may add I chose Mr. Moore to write it because I knew that his vivid and unqualified method of statement would be likely to arouse an attention which is frequently denied to more temperate and closely-reasoned arguments.

The Mystery of the Bear Bones.

"Horresco Referens" writes to the Standard to clear up the mystery of the Guildford bones: - "Some little time ago (he says) a gentleman returned to these parts from Russia, bringing with him as a great delicacy some bears' feet. These feet were, of course, boiled, and the fur and nails removed. Finding that his friends did not appreciate his importation, and getting himself tired of bears' feet as a regular diet, he wrapped up a foot in a piece of paper, and threw it away in the Guildford tunnel. Some time after the parcel was discovered, and the inhabitants of this ancient and respectable town were horrified to hear that, according to the opinion of medical men, the remains were those of a human female! Suffer me to draw a veil over the rest of the tragedy, and to simply assure you that these facts are authentic.

The Reeking Rockeries Whence a City Church Draws its Rents.

One of the dens of iniquity that have been thoroughly overhauled by the police in their search for the Whitechapel murderer is a block of buildings on Fashion-street, Brick-lane, Spitalfields, the property of St. Bride's Church, Fleet-street. The condition of this property was referred to in The Star only a short time ago, when a member of St. Bride's Vestry called the attention of his colleagues to the fact that they were receiving an income of about 400 per year from a set of rookeries that were not fit for pigs to live in; but the actual condition of these premises was only to be fully appreciated by a visit to them. A Star reporter paid them a visit. Fashion-street runs parallel to Hanbury-street, the scene of the fourth murder, while the very next street in the other direction is Flower and Dean-street, where are situated the lodging-houses in which dwelt both the victims of the last two horrors. The St. Bride estate includes the George and Guy public-house at the corner of Brick-lane, and a dozen houses covering 250 feet frontage down Fashion-street, ending in the dismantled Northumberland Arms, on the wall of which is a tablet setting forth the fact that


claims the ownership of this nest of slums. Underneath the Northumberland Arms is a passage so dark that one can scarcely see the color of the walls, so low that one must stoop to pass through, and so dirty that one must exercise the utmost caution to avoid the filth. This leads to another row of houses, still part of the same property, known as Union-court. These tenements in themselves are in a little better condition than those on the street front, but the courtyard is a perfect disgrace, even to the civilisation of Spitalfields. It is doubtful if any member of St. Bride's Vestry could make the tour of its limited extent without severe qualms of some sort, if not of conscience. The Star man incidentally questioned some of the denizens of these dwellings, and found that the sanitary inspector was an unknown quantity there. One intelligent-looking fellow said he did not know what it was, and another said he believed there had been one seen in the next street, but never in that court. The back view from the houses on Union-court is not bad. Spitalfields churchyard is that way, but in front there is nothing but the narrow court above referred to, and the still nastier courts of the houses in Fashion-street. The Star man made his way first into the court-yard of No. 35. The place was a sort of general shop, where an unkempt Jewess was skimming dirt off a can of milk, preparatory to serving a customer. The stench of decaying vegetables was unbearable, but as one miraculously passed without slipping down on the slimy flooring of the passage, it was found that the odour of the shop was like attar of roses in comparison with the aroma that arose from the yard. There was a water tap in the court, but it was out of order, and it was evident, from a reeking pool of recently fallen rain water, that the drain was stopped.

The Star man went into several other yards in the block, and found the same condition of things prevailing in a greater or less degree. There was no difficulty in penetrating to the top floors, for no one seemed to take any notice of whoever might come and go, and one could not but think how easily a Whitechapel murderer


in some such quarter as this. In at least three of the houses the stairways had certainly not been scrubbed for weeks. The dirt was fully an inch thick, and the sound of footsteps on the stairs was an impossibility. A policeman who was with the Star man said his duty at that time consisted in ascertaining how many families occupied each house, but the promiscuous domestic relations that appeared to exist among the inmates made his task a most difficult one. Some of them had lodgers they never saw for days at a time. Their doors were left unlocked all night, and they had no idea at what hour or under what circumstances their lodgers went in or out. Under such conditions there can no longer be any wonder as to where or how a murderer might hide himself. The police officer remarked that there were hundreds of such hiding places in that district, but as he expressed it: - "This is the dirtiest drum of the lot." The old Northumberland Arms hostelry at the end of the row is tenanted only by rats. Its windows are broken, and its doors unhinged. In one window is the familiar suggestion that the building is "To let," on the walls are posted the bills offering rewards for the Whitechapel murderer, and higher up is the tablet inscribed "St. Bride's Estate."

Assan Farran Discredited - Impossible to Prevent Cannibalism - Stanley's Ambition.

M. de Brazza has been interviewed by the Paris correspondent of the Daily News.

"I don't think," said the French explorer, "that the very sweeping statements of that interpreter Assan Farran will ever tell in the least against the character of either Major Barttelot or Mr. Jameson. I don't know this Assan Farran personally, but he is a Syrian, and of a class in whom I place the slenderest confidence. They are, as a rule, an arrogant, offensive lot, with very little breeding and even less probity. As you are perhaps aware in countries like the Congo adventurers of a low class will crop up. You know what great difficulties we have to contend with in the Congo. It is one of our misfortunes to have to employ a certain class of Syrian interpreters for want of more respectable and intelligent men. Assan Farran may be a trustworthy individual, but from my knowledge of things I should hesitate exceedingly before accepting his ipse dixit regarding the conduct of two brave and intelligent Englishmen." Talking of Barttelot's bodyguard, M. de Brazza said, "the Manyemi are


I was astounded to learn that Major Barttelot had placed his life in their hands. He should have known what these men were, or at least Assan Farran, in his capacity of envoy to Tippoo Tib, ought to have told him. I admire the Englishman's course in venturing through such a hostile region with 400 men. Surrounded as he was with a hireling gang of cut-throats, he must have possessed rare pluck and daring to pursue his path to a strange country. In this Stanley relief expedition, not 400, but perhaps 40,000 natives would have been required to open a straight road to the region of the White Nile, where I am convinced the great explorer is to be found. It is absurd to lay any blame on Mr. Jameson for being present at a cannibalistic orgie. Unless with superior forces


There is a case of a French sergeant with M. Rochefort's son and five men storming and clearing out a village to save a woman. It is the custom out there when a chief dies to place in his tomb a live child, or else to sacrifice a woman. Sergeant Weisstroffer once came upon a village where a woman was about to be slain. There were some 80 armed men pitted against the Frenchman, but he, nothing daunted, kept up a rolling fire, and eventually cleared them out of the village.


may easily be explained. He slipped away quietly from the Falls, and, with the set purpose, I am convinced, of carrying out a long-cherished scheme of his, advanced into the wildest regions of the country. His purpose was to subdue that country by diplomatic dealings with the tribes, and make it a present to England. There is no doubt in my mind as to Stanley's fate; he is alive and safe."

Hung Herself in Hanbury-street.

Mrs. Sordeaux, wife of a weaver, living on the top floor of 65, Hanbury-street, has been very much depressed of late by the murders. On Sunday she was seen secreting a razor, and it was taken from her. Yesterday she left her room, saying she was going on an errand, but when some time elapsed, and she did not return, her eight year old daughter went in search of her. She found her hanging with a rope round her neck to the stair bannisters. The child ran for assistance, but no one would go up to the body, and eventually the police were called in. The body was warm, but the woman was dead.

Three Policemen for 11,000 a Year.

At Hammersmith Vestry last night, Mr. Platt called attention to the disgraceful condition of Hammersmith's main street, particularly on Sunday night. Rowdyism, obscenity, and bad language had its full fling. It was so bad that people could not go along the street to church without being insulted. It was worse than the East-end of London. On making inquiries at the station he was told that only three policemen were kept on duty there from the Broadway to Young's-corner. The police rate they paid was 5,600 for the half year, and that was the protection they got for it. The Vestry decided, after hearing more angry complaints, to send to Scotland-yard.

Page 3



The Medical Evidence Discredits the Theory of Anatomical Motive on the Part of the Murderer - The Daughter Gives Evidence - Production of the Apron.

The inquest upon the body of Catherine Eddowes, the victim of the murder in Mitre-square, Aldgate, was continued this morning by Coroner Langham at the City Mortuary, Golden-lane, Barbican. As before, Mr. Crawford, the solicitor to the City Corporation, watched the proceedings on behalf of the police, and again demonstrated the additional facility and completeness with which facts can be elicited at an inquiry of this sort by the assistance of a legal man. Detective-Inspector McWilliam, head of the City Detective Department, listened closely to the whole of the evidence, while Major Smith, the City Acting Commissioner, and Superintendent Foster were also present.


of 34, Jury-street, Aldgate, said: - I was the first medical man to arrive after the discovery of the murder, reaching the scene at five minutes to two. I entirely agree with Dr. Gordon Browne in the evidence he gave last week.

Mr. Crawford: You are acquainted with this locality, are you not? - Yes, very well, where the body was found would be the darkest corner. There would have been sufficient light, though, to admit of the infliction of the injuries without the aid of any additional light.

From what you saw have you formed any opinion as to whether the perpetrator of the deed had any particular design on any part of the body? - I have formed the opinion that he had no particular design on any organ.

Judging from the injuries inflicted do you think he must have possessed great anatomical skill? - No, I do not.

Can you account in any way for the absence of noise? - Death must have been instantaneous after the severance of the windpipe.

Would you have expected to find the clothes of the murderer bespattered with blood? - Not necessarily.

For how long had life been extinct when you arrived? - In my opinion but a very few minutes, and positively not more than a quarter of an hour.

The doctor, who was a smart little gentleman, looking more like a curate than a medical man, then left the witness stand, and was followed by another gentleman of his own profession. This was


the Medical Officer of Health for the City, who was called at the wish of Mr. Crawford. He occupied some little time in the recital of his list of titles and qualifications, and then proceeded to give evidence bearing upon the murder. "I received," he said, "from Dr. Gordon Browne the stomach of the deceased, carefully sealed, the contents not having been disturbed in any way. I made a careful examination of the contents of the stomach, more particularly for poison of the narcotic class, with negative results, there not being the faintest trace of that class or any other sort of poison.

This cleared up a point upon which a question had previously been put by the jury, and upon which many questions have been written by the general public to the newspapers, namely, as to whether the murderer first drugged his victim to get her more effectually in his inhuman power.

Examined by Mr. Crawford, the doctor added: I agree with Dr. Browne and Dr. Sequeira that the wounds were not inflicted by anyone who necessarily possessed great anatomical skill, and I equally agree that the perpetrator of the deed had no particular design upon any particular internal organ.


was called, and many an inquiring glance was thrown upon her while she was being sworn. She was dressed entirely in black, with much crape on her hat, and proved to be the daughter of deceased. She was a young woman, about 21, married to a lampblack packer, living at 12, Dilston-grove, Southwark. She said: My mother always told me she was married to my father, whose name was Thomas Conway. He was a hawker, but I do not know what has become of him since he left living with me and my husband. He left without giving any reason, but we were not on very good terms with him. He was a teetotaller, and lived on bad terms with my mother because she used to drink. I have not the least idea where he is now living. He was once a soldier, but had been pensioned. It is seven or eight years since he separated from my mother. The last time I saw my mother was two years and a month ago.

The Coroner: Then you did not see her on Saturday, the day previous to her death? - No, sir. We used to live at King-street, Bermondsey, and when we left there, my mother did not know our address. I have two brothers, but mother did not know where to find them. They purposely kept from her to prevent her applying for money.

By the jury: My father knew my mother was living with a man named Kelly.

By Mr. Crawford: I believe it was the 18th Royal Irish that my father was a pensioner of, but I am not sure.

Mr. Crawford: It so happens that there is a man named Conway who is a pensioner of the 18th Royal Irish, but he is not the man.

Witness proceeding, in answer to Mr. Crawford, said: My father is, I believe, living with my two brothers; but I cannot say where they are, and I cannot assist the police to find them. They are 15 and 20 years old, respectively. I have not seen them for 18 months.

You can't give the police the slightest clue where to find then? - No, sir.

Do you know whether your mother had been intimate with anyone else recently? - I do not.

The Coroner: I suppose every effort has been made to trace the deceased's relatives?

Mr. Crawford: Yes, Sergeant Mitchell will prove that.


thereupon came forward, and said: I have under instruction made every endeavor to find the father and brothers of the last witness, but without success. I have found a pensioner named Conway belonging to the 8th Royal Irish, but he is not identified as the man supposed to have been married to deceased.

Detective Hunt had confronted the pensioner Conway with two of deceased's sisters, and they had failed to recognise him. This Conway is a quartermaster-sergeant.

Dr. Gordon Browne was then re-called, in order that a point might be cleared up by Mr. Crawford. A theory has been put forward, said Mr. Crawford, that the deceased was brought to the square in a murdered state? - "Oh, there is not the least doubt about it," said the doctor, "that the murder was committed where the body was found. The blood on the left side was clotted, and must have flowed from the wound in the throat at the time it was inflicted, and I don't think deceased moved the least bit after her throat was cut."

Police-constable Robinson proved arresting the deceased for drunkenness on the Saturday afternoon before her death and locking her up in a cell. She was wearing an apron.


was here produced by the police, in two pieces, covered with blood, and witness identified it. The ghastly reminder of the crime quite upset Mrs. Phillips, the deceased's daughter, who sobbed bitterly on seeing the blood-smeared rag.


said deceased was detained at the police-station till one o'clock on Sunday morning, which was within an hour of her death. She was then discharged after giving her name and address as Mary Ann Kelly, 6, Fashion-street, Spitalfields. Before going she said, in answer to witness's questions, that she had been hopping.

The Foreman: Was she perfectly sober when released? - Yes, I believe so.


the gaoler at Bishopsgate-street station, corroborated, adding that as deceased left the cell she said to him, "Good night, old cock." She went in the direction of Houndsditch, but said nothing as to where she was going. When being brought out of the cell she had asked what time it was, whereupon witness said, "Too late for you to get any more drink." "What time is it?" she persisted. "Just on one," said witness. "Then I shall get a d - fine hiding when I get home," she said. "Serve you right," said witness; "for you've no business to go getting drunk." Witness believed the apron produced was the one deceased was wearing. The distance from the police station to Mitre-square was about eight minutes' walk.


watchman at Messrs. Kearley and Tonge's tea warehouse, in Mitre-square, said: - I went on duty on the evening of the murder at seven o'clock. I occupied myself in cleaning the offices. At a quarter to two Police-constable Watkins knocked at my door. It was slightly on the jar at the time. I was sweeping the steps down towards the door when the door was knocked, I being then about two yards from the door. I opened it widely immediately, and Watkins said, "For God's sake, mate, come to my assistance." Seeing the constable was agitated, I thought he was ill. Taking my lamp I went outside and said, "What's the matter?" "Oh, dear," he said, "There's another woman cut up." I threw my light on the body, and then ran into Aldgate blowing my whistle.

The Coroner: Did you see any suspicious person about at the time? - No, sir. Two constables came up, and I directed them to the scene of the murder, following them down, and taking charge of my own premises again.

Had you heard any noise in the square before being called by Watkins? - No, sir.

If there had been any cry of distress would you have heard it from where you were? - Yes.

Mr. Crawford: Before you were called by Watkins had you occasion to go into the square, or look into it? - No, sir.

Not between twelve and one? - No, sir.

Was there anything unusual in your door being open? - No.

A juror: How long had your door been ajar before Watkins knocked? - Only about two minutes, while I was sweeping.

This evidence deepened the feeling of many present at the inquest of


in effecting his crimes. Had the watchman been sweeping a few minutes earlier he must have opened the door while the murderer was engaged on his horrible mutilations.


The Edge of the Terror Blunted.

More women were in the streets of Whitechapel last night than have been seen for weeks past, and there were no signs of special police precautions. About ten o'clock last night a middle-aged man of stout build walked into the Leman-street Police-station and accused himself of the murders. The man was obviously under the influence of drink, but it was thought desirable to detain him while inquiries were made at the address given. The police found that his name was Geary, that he lived in the neighborhood, and that he had been an inmate of an asylum. He was released shortly after eleven o'clock. At all the police-stations in the Eastern district the night was reported to have been a quiet one.

Volunteer Policemen.

Sir Alfred Kirby, colonel of the Tower Hamlets Engineers, recently made an offer to provide 30 or 50 men belonging to that regiment for service in connection with tracking the perpetrator of the Whitechapel and Aldgate tragedies. The Home Secretary has just written to Sir Alfred saying that, having consulted Sir Charles Warren, he had come to the conclusion that it would not be advisable to put the men on for service.


Mr. Edwin Brough denies the statement that his hounds Barnaby and Burgho have been purchased by Sir Charles Warren for the use of the police.

W. Grist writes: - "Some years ago I owned a dog of the best strain, a son of Mr. Holford's famous Regent. I took great interest in training Reveller to follow the lightest scent, which he soon learned to do admirably. One instance will suffice. A very little time after I took him in hand, I one day showed him a dry bone, quite free from blood, and unprepared by any artificial scent. I then started a lad with the bone, giving him instructions to conceal it a few miles away, the route and hiding place being both unknown to me. An hour after, I myself started with the dog, and with unfaltering and unerring scent he led me from Upper Norwood, over Streatham-common, to Tooting Bee-common, and to a bush at the latter place, wherein the bone, which I had previously marked, was found. The distance was over three miles."

Futile Arrests.

A man gave himself up at Kilburn, and was taken to Leman-street Police-station, but after being questioned there by Inspector Abberline he was discharged.

Shortly before closing time yesterday morning three men in the Black Swan public-house, Hanbury-street, struck by the appearance of a stranger present, submitted him to interrogation and a search. They say they took from him a large clasp-knife, and that with assistance of a constable they conveyed him to Commercial-street Police-station, where two more knives, four rings, hairpins, and money were found upon him. After inquiries had been made, the man was liberated.

Why Not Women Detectives?

Why should such a thing as a female detective be unheard of in the land?" asks Miss Frances Power Cobbe in a letter to the Times. A clever woman of unobtrusive dress and appearance (she need not be 5ft. 7in.) would possess over masculine rivals not a few advantages. She would pass unsuspected where a man would be instantly noticed; she could extract gossip from other women much more freely; she would move through the streets and courts without waking the echoes of the pavement by a sonorous military tread; and, lastly, she would be in a position to employ for whatsoever it may be worth that gift of intuitive quickness and "mother wit" with which her sex is commonly credited. A keen-eyed woman might do as well in her way as those keen-nosed bloodhounds may, we hope, do in their peculiar line. Should it so fall out that the demon of Whitechapel prove really to be, as Mr. Baxter seems to suspect, a physiologist delirious with cruelty, and should the hounds be the means of his capture, poetic justice will be complete.

Shelters for the Homeless.

Mr. S. Hayward, who is promoting this movement, writes: Last night, our second at the shelter, we had 50 men, eight women, and two children, who, but for this shelter, must have wandered about the streets all night. They were all well behaved and grateful. Need there be any argument that such a movement is wanted, and capable of doing good?

A Father Nearly Poisons His Family - Seems a Little Mad.

Frederick Bass, a gilder, of 5, Charles-terrace, Higham-hill, Walthamstow, was charged at Stratford on his own confession with attempting to poison his wife Emma and his three children, aged 10, nine, and four, by administering oxalic-acid on 10 Oct. - Inspector Hudson, of Walthamstow, said that at a quarter to ten o'clock on Wednesday morning the prisoner went to Walthamstow Police-station, and said, "I have been and done a very foolish thing and have tried to poison my wife and children. I have given them some of this," and he gave up a packet marked "Oxalic acid - poison." He went on, "I put it in their tea this morning. Oh, my poor head! it has been bad for a month. My wife drank some of it and was sick. I don't think the children drank any." - Dr. Lake was sent to his house and saw the wife and children. They appeared all right. The wife said, "There is a few tea leaves in the sink," but they were washed clean. She had also washed the teacups. - Dr. William Wellington Lake said he was shown an ounce packet of oxalic acid - half an ounce was gone. The wife made a statement to him that she swallowed some of the tea and spat it out. The man when he saw him was in a very stupid state, not from drink. - Mrs. Bass, the wife, said on Wednesday morning she made the tea herself, and poured out a cupful. Her husband left the table, and said he would be back in a few minutes. She sipped the tea, but not liking the taste, she spat it out, and washed her mouth five or six times. Her husband threw the rest of the tea into the sink, and her daughter said to her father, "I should think you have been trying to poison mother;" "and I," said witness, "never having a thought of such a thing, told her I should smack her head. He asked me then if I had drank any of the tea, and I told him I had, but had spat it out. He then told me I had better throw the rest down the sink, and I did. I asked him to taste the tea, but he would not. The children did not taste it." - Mr. Howard: Have you any questions to ask your wife? - Prisoner: She is the cause of it all. It's true she went into the front room and I put half of the oxalic acid into the tea. - Prisoner was remanded.

Our Police at Sea.

Lord George Hamilton at Glasgow yesterday said: It is a common every-day expression that Great Britain has command of the sea. So she has, in the same sense that the police have command of London; they are physically more than a match for any attempt to upset their authority, but they cannot prevent the perpetration of crime and outrage in the area where their power is acknowledged. The sea comprises two-thirds of the globe, and half of the ships upon it are British. The amount of the force and its necessary dispersion render it impossible to so protect such a commerce in war time as to give it entire immunity from depredation. War between powerful nations is a great political earthquake, whose disturbing waves must affect to the remotest degree the interests of the respective combatants. There are some who seem to think that because Great Britain has command of the sea therefore all her external interests and floating wealth are to be as safe from the devastation of war as the island itself is from invasion. There are others who contend that half-a-dozen stray hostile cruisers would so annihilate sea communication between this country and the rest of the world that our food supplies thence would cease and our manufacturers collapse. I reject both theories as equally unreasonable and equally extreme. So long as our Navy is strong enough to hold the open sea and Great Britain remains the best market in the world it will be as easy to stop the water from running into the sea as to prevent trade from supplying our wants.

Page 4


Sudden Decease of That Ancient Greenock Toad.

The Greenock toad, writes Miss Amelia B. Edwards, the novelist, has had so much greatness thrust upon him, that your readers will probably wish to know the end of his brilliant but brief career. He died, alas! on the third day after his first appearance in public. A local surgeon, hoping to enable him to take food, slit the membrane by which his mouth was closed, and the patient, unfortunately, had not sufficient vitality to survive the operation. Visitors to the Greenock Museum may, however, see this interesting reptile preserved in spirits.


ANOTHER HORRIBLE MURDER. - A Woman Cut up in Twelve Pieces. Important Clue. See this week's "FREETHINKER." One Penny, post free 1d. 23, Stonecutter-street. London, E.C.

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  Catherine Eddowes
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