"The girl assured him that was the fact; and, from what she had heard from Mrs. Tickner, and the description of him, she had no doubt it was a son of the Rev. Mr. Jones.
"Sir D. Scott then ordered that the girl should be taken over to Lewes, and confronted with Mrs. Tickner; and, if what the girl stated turned out to be true, directed a letter to be sent to the parents; the girl, meanwhile, being kept in the workhouse."
There was curious superstition in the North of England, which is practically done away with in these days of lucifer matches. In the old days of tinder boxes, if any one failed to get a light, it was of no use his going round to the neighbours to get one, for even his dearest friends would refuse him, it being considered most unlucky to allow any light to leave the house between Christmas Eve and New Year's day, both inclusive. No reason has been found for this singular and somewhat churlish custom. An example is given in the Leeds Times, quoted in the Times of January 20th.
"Had not the following anecdote been told us on the authority of a gentleman of high respectability, we should have found some difficulty in believing that so strange a superstition had still influence on the minds of the inhabitants of the West Riding. On the night of Christmas Day our informant was returning to Leeds in a gig from a town a few miles off, and wished to light a cigar. He stopped at a cottage by the wayside, and asked to be allowed a light. 'No,' was the reply, 'thou'lt get no light here to-night.' Somewhat surprised at this surly reply, he drove on for a mile or two, and on arriving at a toll bar, again preferred his request. 'No, sir,' said the gatekeeper, 'I shall let no light go out of my house to-night.' As there was no mending the matter, our friend proceeded to another toll-bar, and a third time requested a light. He was very civilly told he should have a light with pleasure, had it not been Christmas night; but, on that night, to allow a light to be taken out of the house would insure bad luck through the next year. Here, at length, the mystery was solved. This silly superstition was the cause which led to the refusals which so astonished the traveller."
On Thursday, March 24th, there was opened to public inspection at the National Gallery the designs for the new Houses of Parliament. Of these one critic wrote—
"Of these designs, some are good—indeed, we may say, very good—many promising, and some so bad that it was ground of wonder that room should be found for them. They certainly remind us of Peter Pindar's description of matrimony, which the caustic satirist describes—
'Like to Jeremiah's figs,
The good are very good, the bad not fit to give to pigs.'"
Of these designs four were chosen as the best, Barry's plans being most approved; and again on April 28th they were exhibited publicly at the National Gallery. Eventually Barry's plans were accepted, and to him we owe our beautiful "Palace of Westminster."
On April 8th, between midnight and one a.m., the statue of King William III. on College Green, Dublin, was blown up by gunpowder. The street for some time previously had been quiet, none but the ordinary passengers being apparent, when a watchman saw a lighted train burning upwards towards the figure; he endeavoured to drag it down with his pole, but did not succeed. A second watchman came up, and told him to come away, for there was powder in it. This latter man, who warned his companion, had previously seen an attempt made to blow up the statue, but it had failed; and, fearing the danger, gave the warning. Immediately after the watchmen withdrew, a tremendous explosion occurred, as loud as a piece of artillery. The noise was heard all over the neighbourhood. Most of the gas-lamps from the College to Trinity Street were blown out, and the figure, weighty as it was, being composed of nearly solid lead, and nine or ten feet high, was thrown several feet in the air, and fell on the southern side of the base.
It may be remembered that, in 1835, the Hon. C. Berkeley moved the admission of ladies to the gallery of the House of Commons. A select committee was appointed to consider the subject, and their report was presented and read on May 3rd. As the debate thereon was short, and somewhat amusing, I give some of the principal speeches in extenso.