have now one or two— in some instances
three—newspapers, whose leading columns are
exclusively devoted to local affairs. Some of
newspapers are almost as large as the daily
journals which devote their columns to the affairs
of the nation. Besides the reports of the vestries
and boards of directors, they contain all the
general news of the week, and their outer pages
present a "show" of advertisements, which
some of their more important contemporaries
would probably be glad to match.

The parish of St. Sniffens has two such organs
—the St. Sniffens Gazette, and the St. Sniffens
Argus. There is a third, which does not
properly belong to St. Sniffens; but it manages
to tack itself on to that important and populous
parish by inserting its name as a second title—
just as the Surrey Guardian might add, "and
Middlesex Mercury." In the columns of these
journals I am now studying the history and
government of the parish of St. Sniffens—just
as I have seen, in the library of the British
Museum, Lord Macaulay tracing the history of
England through the pages of old Mercuries,
and M. Louis Blanc hunting for records of the
French revolution in the Gazette de France.

Before we dip into the St. Sniffens Gazette, let
me premise that when I first began to read that
journal, I was not very sure whether it was
designed as the Ægis of the vestry, or the
Palladium of the ratepayers. I have come to
the conclusion now, that it is a little of both. It
abuses the vestry awfully sometimes, but it does
not allow outside journals, destitute of parochial
sympathies, to assail the sacred principle of
local self-government. It regards the vestry as
a glorious institution—something to fight and
die for if necessary—but it does not scruple,
when occasion requires, to call a vestryman an
ass. The St. Sniffens Gazette—equally so the
St. Sniffens Argus—frequently takes an
opportunity of saying that one of its most cherished
mottoes is audi alteram partem; in proof of
which, while it admits letters from vestrymen,
it also gives a place to communications
from the literary inmates of the workhouse.
I may mention that it has two other mottoes
—which it airs on all convenient occasions—
"Pro bono publico," and "Bona fide," the last
word being pronounced by the gentlemen of the
vestry without the final "e."

Looking through some recent numbers of
our leading organ, I find its columns greatly
taken up with the case of a certain Mr. B. To
understand what Mr. B. did to excite so much
lively discussion, we must go back to that solemn
triennial occasion when the parish officials,
assisted by the parish boys, went round—the
organ says "perambulated"—to beat the parish
bounds. The first murmurs against Mr. B. are
heard in the following report, which appeared
in the organ at the time of the perambulation.
"At the well-known Argyle"—it may be
necessary to inform the benighted public at large
that the Argyle is a public-house—"luncheon
was provided, but when those who had worked
visited the place, the seats at the table were all
occupied by those who had shirked the duty
of visiting the landmarks, or had made this
their place of joining. Those who were shut
out, however, after some clamour and delay
were provided with the needful refreshment in
another room, and the worthy landlord had the
pleasure of knowing that all his guests were
satisfied, although one of the waiters expressed
his astonishment at the appetites of the parties
up-stairs."

A week or two afterwards, this matter was
brought under the notice of the vestry. The
proceedings are thus reported in the leading
organ:

"The bill of expenses for perambulating the
boundaries of the parish, amounting to one
hundred and thirty-three pounds eighteen
shillings and sixpence, was presented from the
general purposes committee.

"Mr. N. said the expenses had been much
increased by persons not vestrymen being at the
dinner.

"Mr. D. had seen persons there who were
not vestrymen, or connected with neighbouring
parishes, and who were busy bonneting vestrymen."
(My conscience, bonnet a vestryman!)
"He could name the coroner's beadle for one
He had been told that plates of meat had been
sent from the Argyle to the house of Mr. B.

"Mr. B. rose indignantly, and denied the
assertion.

"Mr. D. could give his authority, namely,
Mr. F.

"Mr. B.: Then Mr. F. is a liar!

"A riotous scene then took place between
Mr. B. and the other vestrymen, after which
the resolution was adopted."

A number of letters now pour in upon the
organ in reference to those plates of meat and
certain dinner-tickets which Mr. B. had been
offering to persons not vestrymen at the bar of
a public-house. Here is a passage from the
letter of an "Argylian:"

"It is said that Mr. B. had several tickets to
dispose of for the perambulation dinner, and if
that charge is also devoid of truth, it will be
gratifying to honest ratepayers to know that
Mr. B. can ride triumphantly in his chariot
through the fiery ordeal of an atmosphere of
scandal and slander, and come forth as a man
who shall shine resplendent in the armoury of
truth, honour, and honesty!"

The leading article in this number of the
organ is devoted to Mr. B. and the tickets.
The editor goes on a different metaphorical tack
from that of the "Argylian." Hear him:

"If there is any truth in the statements and
charges contained in those letters, we need hardly
it, Mr.B.'s public career will be snuffed out
like a candle, and he will have to retire into
that solitude wherein he will find solace in the
companionship of Zimmerman, and be comforted
with the 'last days of a condemned.'"

But there is yet another charge brought
against Mr. B. by an odious implication. Thus:

"You may perhaps learn it, if you will be so
good as to ask Mr. B. whether there is any