The Express. — London, England, 1847-11-04 00:00:00

a m isnomer to can that "free trade," by the fundamental' regulation of which the government abstracts the lion's share otwo-fifths of a man's property, before he himself can touch a f ar thing of the other threa4ifths ? Secondly, If Sir Robert p e ers income tax has been felt to be burdensome, what would the nobles and common, of England—the merchant, t he in inuficturer, and the landholder say, if the government attempted to levy a tax upon them which should absorb their whole income'—Q.— 1, 1847. THE MODEL PENNE.—Yestettlay the new model De nny wes issued fmm the mint for circulation, and a num ber el men who obtained a quantity made a plentiful harvest by retailing them at to opener and threepence each. They are a eery neat coin, about the size of a farthing, the centre bring formed of silver, having ow the right aide a profile of her Majesty, and on the obverse the Roman numeral 1., eartouinted with a rim of copper, inscribed " The Model Peony.' Five-shilling pieces, with gold centres and silver rites. made on the came principle, are coming out. CONTINENTAL INTERCOVIVE.—The returns of the numbers of passengers passing through the ports of the Channel, give the following numbers : Through Boulogne, 1519: through Calais, 286. Corresponding period, 1846 : Through Boulgne, 1,515 ; through Calais, 378. The 1,519 passengers may be thus putelivided • From Folkestone, 492; ti on , D o ver, ; lrom London, 135 ; total, 700. For Folkestone, 510 ; fur Dover, 179 ; for Landon, 160 ; total, 849. THE SALE OF 11VGIIIIn' MAMMOTH F.STABLISTI - was continued yesterday by Mr. Robinson. The articles Fold consisted almost entirely of the wardrobe, and nothing occurred calling for special notice. The competi tion was a little mote spirited than on the preceding day. The lot which realised the largest price was a chandelier, which sold for 12l 12s. INCH'EST, YESTFEDAY.—ACCIDENTAL POISONING. —Before Mr. Bedford, at the Grange Inn, Carey-street, on the hniiv of William Allen, aged 35, a bone and rag gatherer, residing at a low lodging-house, 61, Charleuetreet, Drury-lane.—diehard Felder said that the deceased returned home at 4 o'clock on Monday last, and, as eon as he entered the door, fell down in great agony. He told witness that, while parsing through a mews in Guelvecstreet, he picked up a paper tilled with stuff like s-agar, and that being very hungry, as he had eaten nothing all day, be ate a portion of rt. Witness took him to St. Gaes's workhouse, but the medical calicsrs were not there, and, after waiting three-quarters of an hour, he conveyed him to King's Col^ge Ho-pit•L—Mr. Tanner, physician of the hospital, said that the deceased died the next morning. lie made a put modem exam:nation, and found • quantity of ar-enie, the cause of death. Immediate medical moist. ante might have saved biro.—Verdict," Died from arsenic taken in mistake." THE CURRENCY. Slll,—The recurrence of periods of excitement in eycies of ten years, has been noticed by an influential writer on currency, but, strangely enough, this fact has not been used as a key to detect the cause of their recurrence. Still less has it been noticed that the crises have increased in in tensity, the tighter the shackles were forged around the banks of issue. That such has been the case is evident from the history of the last thirty years. The first monetary crisis of surietude after the ceasing of the rastriction set of 1819, took place in 1824, 1525, and 1828. The high price of Consols in 182 i, when it reoehed 97, indicated a super abundance of unemployed capital. The rise had been, as we have seen, from, 71 in 1820, to which figure the price was depressed by the insecurity testified by the readiness of parliament to legislate for a matter that it could not judge of. Perhaps Si, the figure they stood at in 1819, is a fairer point of comparison ; and (reasoning in the dark as we unfortunately must) we may assuine the rise to indicate an ',cumulation of earnings in vested in the funds equal to 84,000,0001., and that the total accumulation iu the country was about 150,000,0001. By the various undertakings of those memorable years amounting, we are told, to 212,000.0001., about 30,000,0001. were at once abstracted for foreign loans and mining compinies, and may be asoumed to have been a total Ices ; at least nothing has as yet been refunded, and on but lute has inti last been paid. The remaining minine, gat, steam-boat, and rail road investments have yielded something. Some have done well, and are now adding to our earnings; others have done little more than pay wages; but that is something. On the whole, the movement seems to have been a natural one, but attended with circumstances worthy of notice. The tendency to invest in foreign loans and mines indicates a distrust of home speculations. How far this was occasioned by a limitation of the currency and by forcing the circulation to flow through certain channels thnt might not always direct the stream where the demand was greatest, is deserving of inquiry. The severe lesson taught of the inse curity of foreign investments was however not forgotten, and at the next periodical excitement in 1834, 1835, and 1836, home investments were at first those most sought. The movement began with joint.stock banks, and proceeded with railways, but not finding food with sufficient rapidity a' home, again wandered abroad. and large sums were invested in American b. ode and securities, which likewise since proved almost a total loss. The home investments were generally good, although then looked upon as the wildest of undertakings. From inexperience in the founders, and strict criticism, and is some instances, direct hostility manifested by older rival establishments, some of the new joint stock banking com panies became disorganised, and stopped others have continued, although long exposed to most illiberal treatment on all sides, by which the public has been the greatest lour; as their efficiency has been impaired, even where their exer tions were greatest. Of the precise extent of the new invest ments made at this epoch we bane no record ; but it was very great. A crisis was hastened by a demand for foreign corn in IS3B and 1839. for which a large exportation of bullion became necessary. The issues became necessarily contracted in consequence of the scarcity of gold, and fearful distress arose. A financial operation of great delicacy with France, undertaken by Messrs. Baring, Brothers and Co., turned the exchanges in our favour, and the gold, to which we had tied our credit, re.flowed. Again, in 1344, 1845, and 1846, notwithstanding the in creased severity of the restrictions on paper issues contained in the Bank charter and subsequent acts, the spirit of specu lation was excited. Railroads, first at home, and afterwards (in consequence of the difficulties thrown in the way of these useful home projects) in foreign lines, were the favourite in vestments. The greater part of the lines that have been executed at home have paid remarkably well. The returns from the continental lines are less satisfactory. But with time and the extension of the nets, now executing every where in Europe, the value of this property will increase. Still, a mumbn of wild projects, which the restrictions did not repress, were started, and involved the sharekolders in great responsibilities. The published lists of issues both of the Bank of England and of the ,point-stock banks clearly demonstrate that these issues had little or nothing to do with the speculative mania or the panics of these periods. They can clearly be traced to an accumulation of profits and growing demand for invest meats that require intelligence, activity, and good govern ment to secure. It is not here the place to review the course of our foreign policy, and ask wkether a proper knowledge of the languages, interests, and resources of the different countries with which we trade should not be de manded of tho diplomatic servants of the nation, and of all connected with the management of foreign affairs. We cannot, however, disguise our conviction, that had such knowledge prevailed in the officers en. trusted with the responsible task, more might have been done by protecting Spain in 1825, Poland in 1830, and South America at a later period, from war and internal troubles, to render the foreign investments of our capitalists secure. A little more hesitation in undertaking the manage. ment of trading and banking matters on the part of our home ministers, would very much have favoured home in eestments. These it is desirable to see take place gradually, and not by fits and starts. Education duly spread ought to bring the aid of every man in the nation to the common cause. A government that fixed its attention to these, the legitimate concerns of the executive, would be unwilling to vote millions to West India slave-owners, and Irish or Scotch landlords who wish to improve their estates. It would not give away colonies like Banat to soothe the fears of Cornish miners, nor would it wink at a system of revenue in our Eastern possessions which threatens to exterminate the growth of one description of pro duce after another. :to suit the ease of the princes of Leadenhall-street. Were our foreign investments duly pro tected, by promoting the prosperity of the countries holding them to the extent of our power, a revenue of enormous amount would now annually flow into this country from all the world, and swell the sum of earnings which forms the security of our national creditors. Had an open trade in corn not been prevented, the periodical exportation of large sums for grain, on the recurrence of bad harvests, sod all the distress that accompanied such drain., would have been avoided. But our subject here is more immediately the bearing of the state of the currency on the national losses. We can trace the restriction legislation to two distinct fal lacies. One is the notion that, by the aid of these laws, the capital value of the fundbolder's claim on the nation can be forced up to double or treble the sum originally advanced by him. In the hot pursuit of this rich spoil, a large portion of our monied community has evidently neglected their duties as statesmen and violated the constitutional rights of their countrymen. The scheme fails through the speculative mania which breaks out the more wildly for being repressed, and carries that capital out of the country for which there is not unrestricted choice of investment at home or in the colonies. The second fallacy is, that it is possible to raise the interest of money permanently without affecting the value of the monied capital of the country, and with it of the national debt. The experience of this week shows that 80 is too high a figure for Consols if the rate of discount is to exceed 8 per cent., and the originators of this notable scheme will now see the wisdom of abandoning it. In short, there is no royal road to wealth, even for the man who can show the possession of half a million in one description of stuck. The fundholder, whose only security lies in the success of the national industry, must be con tented to stand or fall by it. He will act wisely in pro moting it to the utmost of his power, and may take his choice in doing so of a poet at St. Stephen's, in Lancashire, or in the city. There is but one way of forwarding his object is thou three places. SCILI:TATOIL THE CRISIS.—THE PROVINCIAL PRESS. The London Times, a few days ago, taking its text from a statement made to ministers by a deputation from the operative classes in the manufacturing districts, adminis. terci to the broke-s and merchants of Liverpool what that journal doubtless considers a merited and severe castigation, with respect to the mode in use of transacting the business of this oort. The deputation complain—and their complaint is barked by some of our contemporaries in the manufac turing districts—that the brokers and importers of cotton are in the habit of furnishing to speculators the opportunity of laying hold of that raw material, and thus intercepting its transit to the spinner and manufacturer, except at such enhanced prices as they choose to dictate. The process is said to be somewhat lice the following :—A, the importer, or B, the broker, has a parcel of cotton to dispose of, the present value of which is, say 10,0001. C, a speculator, steps forward and says, " I will pay you down in cash 1,000/. or 2,0001., according to the estimated ezteat of risk of depre ciation to be run, and accept bills for the balance ;" and in the event of the offer being accepted, the merchant or the broker holds the cotton, with power of re-sale, as a security for the repaymout of the acceptanaes given. Such a trans action the Times maintains is illegitimate ; and argues, on the part of the commercial community of Liverpool, a dis position to foster an unbounded spirit of speculation, which ought to be discountenanced, and, if possible, put down. Of course we are aware of the animus by which these oc maimed flings at the mercantile body in Liverpool are dic tated, so far as regards both the Times and the organs of the manufacturing interest. We have never taken the diatribes of the termer at more than their true value—never min gled amongst the crowd of Jews and jobbers, who pros trate themselves daily before the feet of the Gamaliel of Printing house square, The animus of the latter is of a more vulgar character. Manchester grudges us our freights, our brokerages, our commissions, and every other source from which the commercial greatness of Liverpool flows. Her spinners and manufacturers would have us to be the mere hewers of wood and drawers of water for their use— the humble carriers of their staples and their wane. The ' merchants, the shipowners, and the brokers of this great mart of commerce, are somewhat more than the characters they would fain have them to sustain; and" hinr illee inv." Let us, however, examine the nature of such a transac tion as that described, which the Thnes—with an 'mount of ignorance of the ordinary nature of commercial affairs which may will shake the validity of its opinions upon matters recently treated of by it with such an air of tri umphant cleverness—considers so illegitimate and injurious. The merchants of Liverpool, amongst other commodities, import cotton. The brokers of Liverpool are in the position of agents between the importer and the consumer or the capitalist, who may wish to invest his spare money in some commodity, from the sale of which he fancies that he seesthe hope of a profitable return. The merchant wishes to realise, and instructs his broker I. sell ; sod the opportunity to buy is open, of course, to the manufacturer, as well as to any other man—the speculator, for instance. The latter, however, sees the manufacturer indisposed to buy other than—to use a well-understood phrase—from hand to mouth. The manu facturer thinks that prices will come lower. He may be so unreasonable, even, as to imagine that the article will be held as long as be likes for his convenience, and sold u low as he chooses for his profit. The capitalist, however, un connected either with the business of importation or con sumption, and hence called the speculator, hes made his calculations ; has watched the amount of stocks on hand and the prospect of crops to come, and instructs his broker to buy at the price which the manufacturer has shown himself indisposed to give. What has the world to do with the terms of such purchase, as between the broker and such a man ? As little as we have to do with the trans actions between the manufacturer ead the banker or wort gagee, who has assisted him with funds fir erection of his factory or machinery. Between the broker and his client on the one hand, and the importer on the other, the trans action is an every day one ; no more peculiar to the cotton trade or to Liverpool than it is to other branches of trade and to other towns. The broker of C, the speculator, pays A or 11, the importer and his broker, their elemaad of 10,0001. Were the transaction a bargain made fur the consumer, the only difference would be that, instead of a margin only being paid in cash, and the broker of C re taining possession of the commodity on his security for the remainder, the consumer would pay the whole amount pos sibly in bills, and himself remain the holder of the selfsame commodity. It is a piece of consummate absurdity to sup. pose that the stock of cotton in Liverpool, of which we have, in ordinary years, from 500,000 to 600,000 bales, can remain in original hands, unsubjected to the ordinary changes of opinion which induce commercial men to realise or invest. What other kind of produce is so dealt with ? If our Man chester friends think that there is any great amount of profit in importing the raw material, and then holdinz it until it is wanted, bale by bale, we have not ourselves, and few Liver pool merchants have, the slightest objections to their becom ing the sole importers, as well as the consumers.—Liverpool Standard. IRELAND. Drntiv, Nov 2 . The Irish council met to-day, and adjourned. The business done, or rather undone, you will find in the abstract of the proceedings. The prudence of a post ponement, under the circumstances, was very judi cious, for, without any definite plan of policy, it is evident the time would be more devoted to declama tion than to business. It was expected that, at the private meeting of the members, held last night, a programme would have been prepared. But nothing had been done, and, at the appointed hour of twelve I o'clock, the members entered the Rotundo—made their mutual bows and gratulations—retired to deli berate—re-appeared, explained, and adjourned until further notice. The meeting, composed of citizens in no very formidable numbers, did not relish the sudden dismissal, after so many hours of ardent expectation, and departed, not without murmurs. One may dis cover in this unexpected result a design on the pert of some to play into the hands of the rival council. It was remarked that the least prominent of the body was Mr. John O'ConnelL The poor-law administration is in a state of wild confusion. The Skibbereen workhouse is closed ; there are no funds ; no rate can be collected ; and to go on, say the guardians, is impossible. A deputation has proceeded from the district to wait on the Earl of Clarendon. What can he do ? In Berehavcn and Bantry there is also much disorder. In another part of the county—far away from the usually miserable maritime border—namely, Kanturk, a well-circum stanced district, the able-bodied poor are in a state of insurrection against the workhouse authorities. While the guardians deliberated on a letter from Mr. Leader, the late candidate for the county, a policeman entered in breathless haste to announce the rush of 2,000 poor on the outer gate, against whom the mili tary refused to act. Thereupon, as the account goes, Mr. Freeman took charge of the civil and military force, and though stones were (literally @peaking) falling in ehowere, he thowed the greatest steadiness and courage. On some of the ringleaders being arrested, an attempt wax made to rescue them by the crowd, who had to be kept back at the point of the bayonet. The people were becoming very violent, and threatening to attack the workhowe gatm; stones were flying thick and fast, when Mr. Freeman ordered the pollee end military to load; the crowd threatened to attack the town, and take with them all the money they could find, if they did not get out-door relief. Mr. Freeman threat ened to read the riot art, if they did not disperse quietly; the greater part of them then marched off towards the town. Mr. Freeman ordered the gates to be opened, and marched tbe fors uncle, his command after the crowd, who halted opposite the first bread.shop they met; but they wereirnmediately dispersed. They then marched on, but had not time to do any mischief, as the military were at their heels. A strange fact— sire powder leas purchased by those out door *The folks 03 that day than was told for Mr preview year in the town of Novena& The Mears. Bross and Barry J.P.M from whose neighbourhood the principal number of thin troublesome moo were, gore them 21. to purchase bread, the greater portion of which the applied to supply themseleth with powder and ball. I stated some weeks since an outline of the plan devised by the Rev. Mr. Fitzpatrick for the employ ment of the able-bodied poor. His system is more ingenious than practicable, and by no means likely , to attract the attention of the powers to whom it is directed. He begins with a census of the able-bodied, including boys over 16 years, and old men able to labour; the latter classes, however, not to be entitled to the standard shilling per diem of the able-bodied. This census could be easily accomplished through the relief list. The second step would be to ascertain the poundage of the rateable property in the tenure to which the hire would amount in twelve months. Of this sum the government should lodge one-third in some bank within the union. After this process a meeting could be convened of all the resident gentry and farmers in each electoral division to ascertain the amount of each in agricultural wages throughout the year, which would be under, over, or equal to the entire amount of his rate. In the first contingency, ono or more labourers to be sent to such a farmer until the wages reached the deficiency. For instance, ii the rate amounted to 20/. and his yearly wages only 10/., a man would be sent to him for two hun dred days. Of the 201., government would have to contribute one-third, the landlord one-third, and the farmer one-third. In the second contingency, where the wages exceed the rate, ho would be en titled to receive one-third of the latter from the government and his landlord respectively. The same principle applies where the wages and the rate are equal. Mr. Fitzpatrick produces various examples to illustrate the working of his plan. One will suffice here. A Mr. Blank, living in Tipperary, holds lands in Castletownroche valued at:3B3/., which employ only two labourers. According to the 3s. rate his quarterly paymentcomes to 571., and the nine months' rate will be at least 154/., for which nothing is had in return. Apply Mr. Fitzpatrick's plan to this case. Suppose a 12s. rate would pay the labourers. This would amount to about 230/., which would give employment to 14 persons ; so that for the difference between his present rate and the wages' assessment, or 76/., he would have the labour of twelve additional men for an entire year. There is a crowd of objections to this plan ; but it contains the germ of the only principle which many intelligent men identify with the revival of prosperity, namely, to force employment by some means or other. The new chief justice of Newfoundland, Mr. Brady, was entertained at a farewell dinner by hie friendi, at Salt-hill. Mr. Brady is a sound lawyer, and most amiable man, who has cultivated and won the esteem of all parties. A more judicious selection could not be made from the bar of Ireland. Mr. Brady's brother, James Charles Brady, died some years ago, atter having reached the highest rank as a common-law advocate. He was the rival and co ; temporary of Sheil in the Catholic Association, with a more chastened and tempered style of eloquence. Had ho livcd he would long since have been on the bench. MEETING OF IRISH MEMBERS OF PARLIA MENT. . . There was a meeting of lrish member, held to-day in the Pillar-room of the Rotunda in accordance with the requisi tion published some time back, signed by thirty-eight of the Irish representatives. Public expectation did not appear to be much excited by the assemblage, all unaccustomed as we are to such scenes, probably because there was no intimation that the public would be admitted to the Council-room. The numbers of the people present did not exceed a few hundreds, and these were principally idlers. The number of respect able persons present was far from numerous. The hour of meeting was fixed for 1 o'clock. Several members of parlia ment had arrived by that time, and in order to arrange pre liminaries retired to an adjoining apartment, where they continued until some time after 2 p.m., when they came into the rosin appointed fur the meeting, and assumed places upon benches elevated above the floor of the place of meeting. Upon their entrance Mr. N. Mauna moved, and Mr. R. D. BROWNE seconded, that the chair be taken by Mr. HENRY GRATTAN, who, on taking that position, acid he had been requested to make some explanation to the public. The meeting was called by requisition, and was constituted as he would state to them. The following counties and boroughs were represented at this meeting: Counties—Cork, E. B. Roche and M. Power, M.D. ; Galway, Chr. St. George (this gentleman is a conser vative, and did not sign the requisition); King's County, Hon. Col. Westenra; Limeri^k, W. S. O'Brien ; Longford, Major Blacken and Charles Bustle Fox ; Mayo. Robert Dillon Browne; Westmeath, Sir Percy Nugent; Meath, Henry Grattan; Roscommon, Fitutephen French (this gentleman did not sign the requisition calling the meeting); Tipperary, Francis Scully and Nicholas Valentine Maher; Waterford, N. M. Power and Leonard Keating ' • Kilkenny, Pierso Somerset Butler and Captain Greene. Boroughs— Carlow, J. F. Sadlier ; Cashel, Alderman T. O'Brien; Clonmel, Hon. Cecil Lawless; Curk, Daniel Callaghan and William Fagan; Dublin, John Reynolds; Dundalk, E. Carroll Mac'Tavish ; Ennis, O'Gorman Mahon; Galway, M. J. Blake and Anthony O'Flaherty ; Limerick, John O'Brien and John O'Connell ; New Ross, John H. Talbot ; Portarlington, Col. Duane; Sligo, John P. Somers; Wex ford, T. Devereux ; Waterford, Thomas Meagher. Mr. Gaarran proceeded to state that the primary motive for convening that assemblage was to impress upon the qco yernment, and, if necessary, upon her Majesty also, the in dispensability of convening parliament before Christmas to consider the (10031.31)1e condition of the country. For that purpose a meeting was held in Serv.ember, and adjourned from time to time until that day. Parliament, it was now announced, Would assemble on the Pith instant, and their duty was to consider what should be brought under its review. It was their duty to impress upon the mimi,try, an d if need even upon her Majesty, the indispensable ne•tessity of taking the distress of the country into the immediate con sideration of the government and the legislature. The b •tly then met had been called a " Council of national ilistr( as and national safety," but he had to 5.7 that there could be no safety, and there ought not, until the distress was removed. Their object and their duty ought to he to tail on government to provide for the national safety by taking care that the people should not is the present year die as they did last year, in the ditches. They should take care that their countrymen should be no longer open to the attacks made on them, as &nation of beggars, of paupers, of dishonest debtors, and they should save them from the dis grace of being stigmatised as a nation of ILlSassill3. He would be ready at all times to stop the murderer's hand ; but while he held out one hand to punish him, he would hold the other out with food to save him. After some further ob- serrations of this tenor, Mr. Grattan concluded. O'GORMAN NA uoN rose and said, that in compliance with the wish of his brother weathers, he had to propose a resolu tion, which he begged to say was not suggested by any dereliction of the duty they owed the Irish public, or by any desire to keep their deliberations unnecessarily secret, but simply because they had not yet agreed upon any measures. The resolution he had to propose was that the committee of Irish members then present do retire for the purpose of arranging and digesting whatever measures and propositions should be submitted to them, and that when matured they should on a future day assemble and lay them before the public. Mr. JOHN O'CONNIRLL seconded the resolution. He said it had been found that the numbers assembled were not able to concur in any of the resolutions submitted to them. Divisions had amen—not dissensions such as they had fre quently to deplore, for none such had arisen, or were, he was happy to say, likely to arise, but simply differences of opinion upon matters which all did not repack in the same light. When they bad agreed upon the measures submitted to them they should offer them for the approval of their countrymen in a public assembly, of which due notice would be given. For the present it was thought better to deliberate without the presence of the public or the press. the reso lution passed. bir. Grattan then left the chair, and the public retired in a disappointed mood, leaving the M.P.'s in possession of the room. REJOICINGS AT CARTON, THE SEAT OP THE DVKI OF LEINSTER.—The Marquis and Marchioness of Kildare were received with the national Cead male fail€he at Maynooth, on Saturday. At Carton the event waa preceded by eaten• sive preparations for enjoyment and fun. Yesterday being the day of introduction for the youthful bride, the peasantry assembled in large masses within the beautiful demesne. At two o'clock the real enjoyment commenced with a dinner to MO of the tenantry, with their wives and families, to which a rest was given by the patriotic strains of a tem perance band. The duke himself presided, and hard work he had for an hour or so. After dinner the usual rustic amusements were played, and the day closed with a grand ball. There were stars and emblematic devices of various kinds, with tea, coffee, music, and dancing, all in profusion. SCOTLAND. EDINBURGH, Nov. 2. The winter session of the University of Edinburgh commences to-day. For some years past the opening addresses of Principal Lee have been devoted to a continuous history of the university, but this season the series has been intermitted, and, instead of an historical, the students received a didactic address. Idleness, light reading, scepticism, and midnight study, were the practices chiefly condemned by the venerable principal ; and, although students are gene rally not fond of receiving advice, the paternal direc tions of the learned divine seemed to go better down than his university antiquities, which are, probably, more suitable for delivering through the press. The Glasgow Argus has been making some statis tical inquiries regarding bankruptcies. During the eight weeks ending Oct. 26 the sequestrations re corded in the Gazette are 51, or rather more than 12 per week. In the corresponding period of 1846 they were 33, or rather more than 8 per week. In Oct, 1842, that being a severe year, they were the same as 1846—namely, 33. In 1813 and 1814 the averages were 5 per week, being considerably less than half of the casualties reported for 1817. As compared with England, the number of sequestrations in Scotland brings out curious results. Thus while the fear weeks of the current year show 51 sequestrations for Scot land, England records 104. For 1846 Scotland 33, England 66. For 1844, Scotland 19, England 76. To show the disparity the Argus " roughly " esti mates the population of England as six times that of Scotland, and draws the inference that Scotland, from some cause or other, is seemingly much more insol vent than England. To account for a result at 'va riance with actual fact, it has to be noticed that the larger failures in England do not find their way into the Gazette; but what is of more consequence, the Argun says,that without pretending fullyto accoantfor the striking difference thus found in the apparent gene ral solvency of the traders of the twocountries, it has no doubt that a great part of it is to be accounted for by the superiority of the English insolvent debtor law to tho Scotch cessio—a circumstance which enables many of the cases which we force into the sequestra tion system to be managed by the much more econo mical arrangements of the Insolvent Debtors Court. The English bankruptcies falling. off in comparison with ours at the time when the insolvency system was receiving new extension, confirms this idea, and a promise is given of further inquiry into the subject. An official investigation having been made into the state of the Glasgow police, it has been found that the charge of appointing raw recruits is not wholly with out foundation. With regard to the time (sees the report) which the persons ap pointed had been resident in Glasgow prior to their appointment, the returns exhibited the following results:—Persona appointed: Days— for 1 day, I ; for two days, 7 ; fur three days, 3 ; for four days 2 ; for flee days, 3; for eight days, 12; total 25. Weela —for two weeks, 3 ; for three weeks, I for four weeka,6; total, 10. Months—for two months, 6; for three months, 7; for four months, 4; for live months, 1; for six months, 9; total, 27. For longer periods, 103. Total, 173. With respect to the alleged preference for Irish officials, the new appointments have consisted of 86 Irish, 79 Scotch, and 8 English. The time occupied with drunkenness in Glasgow should form some ex cuse for the police in that city. Last Saturday even ing 106 persons, totally unlit to take care of them selves, were carried to the office in barrows—no fewer than 85 policemen being employed at this disgusting duty. In the general revenue account of Glasgow the criminal expenses are 1921. 14s. less than last year, affording a very common proof of the uselessness of mere figures inillustrating the real state of the social system. THE GREENOCK ARTIZAN Ctcn.—lt issuspected that the Greenock Artisan Club is rather in deep water, and a public meeting has been held to devise measures for its better encouragement during 1848. Mere than 400 persons pledged themselves to support it, but not one half of the number came forward in the hour of need. The yearly sub scribers amount only to 110, although the cost is but 7s. Gd. The following graphic account of its operations, so given by the manager, will increase the regret that such an institution should not command success. There were eight or nine dame at work. The duo of arithmetic and mathematics area attended by 21 permits ; mechanical drawing, by about 20 ; ornamental dnortng, 12; chip carpenters' drawing, 12; vocal and instrumental mimic, about t 2; sad architectural drawing, 18; forages altogether about 80 persons attending these clams. for THE EXPRESS, THURSDAY EVENING, NOVEMBER 4, 1847. newspapers he paid about 160!. per annum—newspapers of all shades of politico and religious opinion. There was a roan for bil liards and bagatelle. Some doubted whether these games should be admitted; but that was all a matter of opinion ; the playing WWI not sinful in itself, but the oboe of the game was so. Drafty and domi noes were pliycal in other room, and there wean smoking room. Re freshments were also to be had as in any temperance coffee-room; but no intoxicating liquurs were allowed. - There wen also a place where they could shoot with the rifle at a target, and premiwns were given to the beat shot. Baths could alo be had at the Institution. Ile was sorry to see that se few used the baths, for on an average there were only fin • day taken, while he could accommodate at Resat thirty 3d. fur a cold, and ed. fora hot bath. There was also a ten-pin alley which wan used occasionally. 100,0001. was spent yearly in intoxi cating liquors in town, and it was surely nut too much to expect that part of it should came to such an institution. it/WHAMMY SELMEN.—On Thursday last Capt. ride of the brig Jane Geary, of Peterhead, arrived in Glasgow, from which he had sailed on Friday, the 22nd ult., and reported that four of his crew were in a state of mutiny, and the ship detained in Lamlash Bay. In the first instance the superintendent of the Seamen's Rendezvous was sent down along with the captain, and assisted him and the mates to brink the vessel back to the Tail of the Bank, at which she arrived at noon on Saturday last ; these seamen, meanwhile, refusing to do any part of their duty. A war rant was procured in Greenock, the men taken on shore, and the case beard there the same afternoon in the justice of peace clerk's office. The men did not attempt to assign any reason for their resolution not to go in the ship; but it is believed that they bad got bad advice from unworthy characters before leaving Glasgow, which they had resolved to act upon when the vessel was put into Lamlash Bay by stress of weather—knowing Float their ad vance notes were by this time paid, and that if they could contrive to ship again in another vessel they would again re ceive an advance. They were sentenced to fifteen days' imprisonment,: and it was ordered that their clothes and chests should be detained until the advance, which had been already paid by their order to the man with whom they had lodged in Glasgow, should be refunded. Other men were immediately got on board, and the Jane Geary was enabled to proceed on her voyage to Rio Janeiro. PROVINCIAL. STATE. OF TRADE.—The depression of trade in this county is still reducing the means of the working classes, and the following returns show the falling off of employment during the past week. In the division of North Loesdale 130 buds are working on short time, and 195 are out of I work altogether. In South Lensdale one mill is on short , time and 450 hands are entirely out of work. In Amoun- derness 350 hands are entirely out of work; one mill has been closed by the masters, employing 80 hands. In Lower Blackburn 12,961 hands are on short time, and 6,398 are ' quite out of work: of these 249 have struck; a reduction of wages is also proposed. In Higher Blackburn 18,118 are j working short time, and 1,415 are out of work; there has , been much falling off from full to short time, and 14 mills have been closed. One mill has resumed working at short time, and the difference between the masters and men on account of the proposed reduction of wages is settled. In Leyland, 1.636 hands are on short time, and j 3,299 are out of work. One mill has been closed by the , masters on account of the machinery being out of repair, end another in consequence of the depression in trade. In 1 , Middleton, 13,398 hands are working short time, and 1,487 I are out of work: two mills have been closed through bank ruptcy, one from bursting of the boiler , and three others j through depression in trade. In Bolton, 4,390 are on short j time, and 1,370 are out of work; there has been considerable reduction from full to short time, and three mills closed. In Bury, 0,806 are on short time, awl 2,438 are out of work. I One mill ham been closed, and another resumed work. In 1 Ashton-under-Lyne, 2,216 are on short time, and 1,434 are oat of work ; of these 400 have struck, in consequence of the , masters endeavouring to reduce wages ten per c nt., and two mills have been closed for the purpose of re- ' pairing machinery. In Manchester, 5,953 are on ' short time, and 1,047 are out of work. In Warrington, 3473 bands are on short time, and 1,046 are out of work ; two mills have been closed. In the Preseot division matters are lin the same state as before. In the town of Lancaster 1.50 are on short time, 550 are out of work. In Preston 5,110 are on short time, and 2,077 are out of employment ; two mills have been closed through bankruptcy, and 14 through depression in trade. In Bolton, 6.386 are on short time, and 2,05,5 are out of employment. In Ashton-under-Lyne, 8,474 are out of employment, of whom 8,377 have struck. In Manchester, though the reduction is gradually advancing, the returns for Tuesday and Tuesday week do not exhibit quite so unfavourable an aspect as those recently published : there are 14,578 working short time, and 11,616 out of work. There are six fewer mills working full time this week than last, of which five see on short time, and one is stopped al together. 'fog AMERICAN WRITER, IL W. EMERSON, delivered at the Manchester Athenmum on Tuesday, the first of a course of lectures on " Representative Men." The subject of this introductory discourse was the " Uses of Great Men ;" and it is to be followed by lectures on Sweden borg, the mystic; Montaigne, the sceptic; Shakapeare, the poet; Napoleon, the man of action; and Goethe, the man of letters. After some introductory observations,: Mr. Emerson proceeded to enunciate his leading viers by a series of propositions, which may be given in a condensed form : He said, It is natural to believe in great men. If the companions of our childhood should turn out to be angels, it would not in childhood surprise us. It is easy to read through the earliest myths which precede the history of nations, the child-like truth that they anticipate excellence in every man. The world is upheld by the veracity of good men. We do not wish to live with satans and idiots. Actually, or ideally, or idolatrously, we do all live with the great. Our religion is also at last the love and cherishing of great men. The gods of fable are the shining monuments of great men. The wise man sees that all are anthropomorphists. Man can make, or paint, or think, nothing but man. As is the religion, so is the philosophy. The soul of man is at once the student and the book; at once the sculptor, the block, and the statue. In every divine book, philosophy finds but one essence, collected or distributed,—God in its collective, man in its distributive. We have social strength: I can do that by another, which I cannot do alone. It is easy to see what a road builder is love. But it is not the ordinary values of men to each other which we have now to treat of, but the uses of great men. Every man comes into the world built and equipped for a work. While he does that, a genius seems to attend him and whisper to him all the secrets of his art. The great men, then, are those who are truly themselves; who are what they are from nature. But they must be also related to us. A great man is he who, in his life and activity, answers not merely the demands that I make, but also others which I have not skill to put. Nature ex presses all her will in great men. Whatever she has at heart, she first prepares in the thought and hopes of multi tudes, and then embodies in the faculties of one. The human mind anticipates two kinds of use or service from superior men; first, direct service, as available to children and to the faith of the early ages; and when these arc past, there is only left us the indirect service to be derived from great men ; in their pictorial or representative character, they serve us not in the will, but in the intellect. Men are representative in a two-fold sense—of things and of ideas. Each is gifted with one severalty; each has his own peculiar work to do. Great men are by their instinct pilots, and so we follow their lead. The benefit to us is intellectual: we see them ea incarna tions of the laws of nature. Men are laws e-alking, speak ing, acting. We are multiplied a thousand-fold by the arts of all able and excellent men. Hew easily we enter into their labours, and verify their results. Every ship to America is a follower of Columbus ; every reader of almost any poem is a debtor to Homer. As great men stand for things, they are limited and satisfy the understanding, which delights in the finite; as they stand for ideas, they address the other and nobler element ; they diaindividualise, emancipate, and administer to the universality of the soul. Men are helpful to each other (strictly speaking)only through the intellect and the affections, or the will; all other help is but a false pretence, and not given but sold. The qiirdinal ad vantage which we owe to the very highest class of men ia, that they open to us God and the world. It is a condition of our humanity that we swim in a river of delusions from our birth onward. But life is not a chimera, but a sincerity. Somewhere there is power and truth ; and what great men know, they know for us. When a mind is created, a new secret of nature transpires. This is the use of uses of great men—to correct the delirium of the animal spirits, to make men considerate and wise, and to raise life to new aims and powers. In the ordinary work of life, I am ever feeling that another noble fraction of time is gone, and I have done a precious nothing ; I cannot keep my eyes off the clock ; but if some great and gentle soul should arise, to announce a law that ranges things into their natural order, it testifies to one of the equity which at last shall bring down all iniquity and bankrupt all self-seekers. Then I forget the clock, I breathe a freer air; I am made immortal, by apprehending my possession of eternal truth. I admire great men of all classes—those who stand for facts, and those who stand for thoughts; but most do I admire him who can abolish him self and all heroes, by letting in this divine element of reason, irrespective of persons—this power so great, that the poten tate is nothing. I proceed to specify a few of the services of heroes, or great men. First, we invoke their succour against our own faults. The conservative force of self opinion converts us to sleepers or stones, till the hero aopears and renews us with warm life. We love to associate with the great; our receptivity is unlimited; we are all wise in capacity, though so feeble in energy. It is very cosy to be as wise and gond as your companions—but we atop where they stop. In this difficulty great men are our saviours from wide error, and defend us from our contem poraries. But now arises a new danger : the excess of the influence of the great man, his enormous attractions, have warped us from our right places ; we have become under lings, and the crime of intellectual suicide is committed. But here is our help : other great men, with new qualities, act as counterweights and checks on each other. It may be thought that there is so much good-will to impart and to receive, that each individual threatens to become the other. But the law of individuality collects its assent strength ; you are you, lam I; and so we remain. Finally, as to " great" men—is not that word injurious? Is there caste? Is there fate ? This cheapness of men, this rarity of virtue—it is— (is it not?)—the tragedy of the world. It is as real a lose that others should be low, as that we should be low ; for we must have society. Strictly speaking, there are no " com mon men." The heroes of the hour are only relatively great; individuals of a faster growth, or of whom some quality is ripe that is in request. Other days demand other qualities. • The supposed injustice disappears when we see the central identity,—that we are of the substance that ordaineth and ' doeth this. I come to the truest and greatest benefit of any ' genius only when I see him as the vehicle of a grander power; the moment he oases to help me as a cause. he begins to help me as an effect. Then he appears in has right representative character,—a medium of tenth and help,—and ' betraying the tendency of a vaster mind and will ; the opaque becomes transparent, the light of the first cause beams, ' through him, and we deal at first band with the Author of , being. The Manchester people are not a little proud that Mr. Emerson has consented to give them the first edition of his "great thoughts." tatrsutar BIRKENTIEAD.—Yesterday morning the usual meet ing of the Birkenhead Dock Commissioners was held at the offices in Hamilton-square. Wm. Potter, Esq. occupied the chair.—Mr. Pike thought it exceedingly desirable that the dock works should be immediately resumed ; but as the bill to sanction the proposed government loan could not be ob tained before next March, he proposed that the Dock and Warehouse Company shruld be called upon to pay ierne. diately to the commissioners 5,0001. on account of their debt, and a like sum monthly unit the whole should be paid; soli if this were not acceded to, that the law clerk should take steps for the immediate reoovery of the whole amount.—Mr. \Vm. Laird moved as an amendment that a committee should be appointed to confer with the Dock and Warehouse Company to consider and to report on the present position of affairs, and endeavour to make some arrangement for carrying on the works, and that Mr. Bailey and Mr. Harnett be requested to attend the conference on behalf of the bondholders.—The amendment was carried, and the meeting adjourned for a week, to receive the result. If not favourable, Mr. Pike's motion will be re-proposed. LITERATURE. Vanity Fair: Ten and Pencil Sketches of English Society. By W. N. TRACK MUT. Nos. I. to X. The public offerings of the ci-decant Michael Angelo Titmarsh are ever pleasantly welcome to us : welcome as an invitation to banquet with a graceful, well-informed, and favourite friend. He is the prince of etchers and sketchers. Full of mind, wisdom, and healthy mirth, are all his works. His lightest, not leas than his most serious words, are always worthy of the listener's ear. The sage is bleat with the satirist ; and he is equally master of our sunniest smiles and most unselfish tears. He speaks always with a purpose too. Fun is a means, not an end, in the extermination of the snobs. Laughter is legitimated by the high aims accom plished through its instrumentality. His pencilling too, although, perhaps, lacking somewhat of the force and vigour of a master-hand at drawing, have inva riably a feeling about them which suggests the artist mind, and a character which indicates an ori ginality of conception in the choice of means for the production of striking results. His pencil is not, however, so potent an engine as his pen. Still every thing which he does is characteristic—quaint, facile, pleasing, even when—which is seldom—he does not rise to the superb. The author of " Vanity Fair" is unquestionably a man of original mind—a mind to which the exercise of intellectual power is natural, easy. His genius is environed with a warm and glowing atmosphere of fine feeling and cultivated fancies—light, playful, kindling, acting upon the ima gination and the heart of the reader with a secret but irresistible influence. A humour, remarkable for its geniality, plasticity, and spontaneity, illumines and vivifies every page. Thackeray's satire is of the soothing and corrective, not of the burning and cor rosive kind. Hie arrows are keen and piercing, but they are not poisoned. Not to kill, but to cure, is the aim of his medicinal words. Wit he has, and of a high character, but it is not sharp, startling, explo sive, like a meteor or a flash of lightning, dazzling the eye and blinding it ; but rather resembles the calm and steady sparkle—the equable and continuous flow of light from a permanent star. Rigid, unproportioned, east-iron character—ex treme and unnatural incident--spasmodic attempts to escape from the common-place into the incon gruous—and the poverty which is forced to seek fur novelty in exaggeration, and interest in the incre dible, have no place in this gallery of illustrations of our many-phased, but still homogeneous humanity. The artist rather loves to linger in the common haunts and walks of life, finding poetry in those who have never learned to give it utterance according to the forms," and heroism in hearts which in their gentler moments a bird might flutter into fear—not the less heroic on that account—and apparently never distrusting his own ability to invest the seeming common-places of life with a deep and touching in terest. Flesh and blood are the materials which he moulds. Abstractions and idealities he avoids. The per sonages of his drama are real men and women—men and women endowed with strong physique, personality, and individuality—not merely types, symbols, expo nents of classes and sections of society : the interests are material, moral, tangible—the dealing with the duties, fortunes, and malfortunes of active life. Yet he never condescends to flatter the follies of one class of society, nor to applaud the vices of another ; and he keeps himself honourably free from that prevailing impertinence of modern writers for the great audience of the world—the disposition to patronise the people. " Vanity Fair, Pen and Pencil Sketches of English Society"—so far as it has yet appeared, and judgment can be pronounced upon a fragment—is unquestion ably Mr. Thackeray's finest and most original pro duction. To the title with which he has chosen to invest his subject, and to the direct,inference to which that title points, we must, however, take exception. Upon its merits as a picture of life, and not upon the fulfilment of the special intention supposed to be in volved in its name, must the novel stand or fall, and Visnity Fair can well afford to challenge criticism upon independent ground. Vanity Fair is not a portraiture of English life. The characters drawn are, as we said, individuals, not types,—individuals couflaed to a limited class and a narrow locality. Their characteristics are not specially English, nor the persons of all of them wholly so, even according to Mr. Thackeray's own authority. The tale is announced as " a novel without a hero, —a novel undertaking, but scarcely borne out in the work, since our respect, sympathy, admiration, are all powerfully centred in William Dobbin, from the opening of the story to the latest page which has yet appeared ; but an heroine it has, and a most uncommon one. In her the interest of the story dwells. This is Rebecca Sharp, the daughter of an English artist, and—a French opera dancer. The child, too, inherits as much, rather more perhaps, of the maternal idiosyneracy than of the paternal. She, the moving spirit, the prominent figure of the drama, is more French than English to commence with. The intriguing spirit of the Parisian is largely infused into her constitution ; and as time and circumstances come to exercise their mighty influences over her mental and moral organi sation, the daring and unscrupulous intrigante be- comes powerfully developed. Thus the descent and the constitution of the heroine falsify the title. Otherwise this character is drawn with extraordi nary skill and power. She is at once fascinating and repulsive—an icy incarnation of power—of intellect uncontrolled by moral principles and governed only for selfish ends—lago's spirit in a woman's form and a new set of circumstances. As a psychological creation, it may rank beside the finest mental por traitures which genius has ever painted in words. Cold, keen, coquettish—witty, watchful, logical—with an affluent imagination, thirst for luxury and influ ence, and unappeasable ambition—shrewd, disciplined, self-sustained—quick to devise, and prompt to act what her ready brain conceived—unscrupulous as to means, and reckless of consequences—a profound hy pocrite, and a perfect mistress of the arts of successful dissimulation : such is Rebecca Sharp, the heroine of " Vanity Fair"—a dangerous enemy, but a still more dangerous friend. She is thrown upon the world at a twelve years age, by the death of her parents, who, besides her orphanhood, bequeath her the inheritance of a low, or even still more questionable, origin. Her whole youth is a prolonged crisis—a struggle with the world for life. A woman while . yet a child, and nursed in the bitter school of suffering—she determines to achieve a position in society. Leaving school she sets about to capture a husband. By a narrow chance she misses the fat, shamefaced, yet vain, collector of Bogglewhollaugh. She then lays siege to Sir Pitt Crawley, Bart., the old and ugly sensualist: but he holds out too long ; and in the meantime the im patient young lady angles for, and hooks, his son, who marries her clandestinely. He is a stalwart dragoon, and is aeon after his wedding ordered tojoin his regiment in Belgium, whither his young wife follows him. After the battle of Water 100 they go to Paris. General Tufts was already at her feet, and she is now surrounded with gallants, and plays the grand lady with infinite echre. For tune smiles upon the dauntless little warrior—in her battle with the world she is evidently conquering: but whether destiny, in the shape of Mr. Thackeray, will step in at the final close of the drama, to crown her with a coronet or condemn her to a convict's doom, is yet uncertain. Either extreme is possible. There is enough of good and bad in her to merit both. The foil to this character is Amelia Sedley—a young lady decidedly possessing more of the elements of English womanhood. She is soft, generous, con fiding, in an eminent degree—even to weakness. Her lover—afterwards her husband—is another ably drawn but disagreeable personage. George Osborne, it is to be feared, is the type of a large class who pass current in society as good fellows—men who combine the " vicious virtues " of youth—levity, reck lessness, sztravaguice—with the settled ielfisluiess of later years. He loved Amelia only because the affec tion of so beautiful a creature flattered his vanity, and he married her after her father @ fall of fortune only because some remnant of that love rose up to trouble his hollow heart, and left her afterwards to swell the train of Becky Sharp (now Mrs. Rawdon Crawley's) adorers. He, properly enough, gets killed off in the charge of the Guards at Waterloo, and leaves his widow to a worthier mate. But will she listen to the love of noble, bashful, valiant William Dobbin ? This the future must unfold. Splendidly is this fine fellow depicted. So is old Osborne too—the vain, purse-proud, coarse, and vulgar father—who filched a crest from the heralds office of a great ducal family, and tried to impose upon and deceive himself into a belief that he was, in some unaccount able way, connected with it, and who banished and cursed his son for marrying the daughter of his bank rupt benefactor. The picture also of that unfortu nate, sitting daily in the dark City coffee-house, fumbling and mumbling over his papers, with his anxious but vacant look, and brain disordering, is too sad and too true to be otherwise than painful. Be sides these, there is a large gallery of portraits ; the strong-minded Countess of Southdown, who sermon , Med and medicated all her acquaintance and de pendents with a high hand, and " who would order Gaffer Jones to be converted just as she would order Goody Hicks to have a James' powder, without appeal, resistance, or benefit of clergy :" the whole and notable family of the Crawleys—and especially the fastidious, worldly, and cynical Miss Crawley—whose property they are all intriguing to become possessed of. These form an admirable and most amusing group ; and the various forms and fortunes of their diplomacy keep up one of the strong centres of inte rest in the novel. The coarse, rough heart of a Sir Pitt Crawley—who, on finding out his son's mar riage, takes a country wench as his mistress— drives her about in the family carriage—keeps low company, and gets drunk daily in common pothonacs with most scurvy companions, we cannot Imagine as the type of a class now existent in Eng iand, whatever it may have been once. On the whole, " Vanity Fair" promises to be a work of great interest and popularity. If the Leigh Huntian aphorism—slightly altered from one of un questionable authenticity—that "he who makes a laugh in this world, where before laugh there was none, shall be entitled to the gratitude of his fellow men," be accepted as a true one, then Mr. Thacke ray may not unreasonably look for a due acknowledg ment and reward for his labours. Abe ariuna. Palseess's.—The portion of the audience whom the "bluff King Harry" of Mr. Cooper did not frighten prematurely from the theatre last evening were regaled with a new farce, entitled " A Trip to Hampton." It is a pro duction of a somewhat small standard of merit, in which, however, Mr. S. Cowell, who has considerable talent in his peculiar line, acts a good part. The story of the piece is somewhat ingenious, and indeed constitutes its main merit ; for the dialogue is quiet enough, and the situations present no feature of novelty. Mr. Dramagogue is a literary gen tleman with a large heart and a small purse—the one lead ing him into a matrimonial engagement with a young lady, and the other causing him considerable em barrassment as to how he shall maintain both him self and his pretensions. The pair are engaged to a picnic party with two other couples ; but the funds of Mr. Dramagogue partaking of the general depression, he feels himself unequal to the outlay, and rushes back to his lodgings with the intention of destroying himself. On his way, however, he finds a pocket-book containing a hundred pounds, which he appropriates, and astonishes the pic.niis party with his unwonted libe rality. They are presently joined by the uncle of his mistress, who explains his late arrival by recounting a severe loss which he bad met with in the morning, on the very spot where Deo magegue picked up the pocket-book. He does not particularise, but there can be but one inference, and the literary gentleman writes a penitential letter confessing his discovery of the pocket-book. A denouement ensues, and it appears that the old gentleman has not lost money, but simply his wig, which he demonstrates by re moving a large hat with which he had endeavoured to dis guise his lOW. A letter is then handed to Mr. Dramagogus from his aunt, which should have been accompanied by a remittance of one hundred pounds. The money in qsestion had been loot on the road, and of course Mr. Dramagogua had found it—a discovery which explains everything, and leaves everybody contented. Thus much for the material, which would have appeared more original had it been more dexterously worked out. The piece was well supported by Mr. Neville, Mr. Harris, Miss Vallee!, &e. It was well re ceived, and announced for repetition. ' SADLER'S WELLS.—A new play, in five acts, called " John &vile of Haysted," was produced at this theatre last evening. It is from the pen of the Rev. James White, a gentleman who has already gained an honoured name in our dramatic literature. It was triumphantly suc cessful, having been received by a crowded audience with a degree of enthusiasm which we have seldom seen exceeded. The action of the piece takes place in the early part of the reign of our King Charles 1., when his favourite, the famous (or infamous) George Villiers Duke of Buckingham, en joyed unbounded power, which he abused by acts of lawless oppression, rapacity, and licentiousness, which made his name hated and dreaded by the whole kingdom. At the beginning of the play this profligate minion appears sur rounded by his train of retainers, the instrument, of his vices, one of whom tempts him by the description of a young country girl of the neighbourhood, and succeeds, with some difficulty, in exciting the curiosity of the blast , voluptuary, who determines, in disguise, to see this rustic beauty. We are then transported to Haysted.hall, near Ipswich, the house of John Sanile, of Ilaysted, an English squire of the olden time, plain, blunt, honest, and independent, rough and hasty, but full of the milk of human kindness, and dotingly fond of his only daughter, Lilian. There is a sweet domestic scene between the father and daughter, full of that playful tenderness which has such a charming effect in the opening ef Sheridan Knowles's " Virstinius." The girl is a child of seventeen, whose fine qualities of mind and heart are mixed up with an imaginative and enthusiastic tempera ment. Her soul is full of the Duke of Buckingham, whom she has never seen, but of whose greatne's, in personal qualities as well as rank and power, she has formed the meet exalted conceptions; creating an image which she worships with a sort of rapturous admiration. the is the rustic beauty pointed out to the Duke by Triode, his worthless retainer. A scheme is laid to obtain a favourable opening to her acquaintance; a party of the Duke's servants make a simulated attempt to carry her off from her father's house, and she is rescued by the Duke and Frirett. For this service she is full of gratitude, and regards the stisnger with increased interest when he tells her that he lis a kinsman of the Duke of Bucking ham. In the conversation which ensiles, her ardent and enthusiastic character is finely displayed. She speaks ef the duke in the glowing language prompted by the image she has formed of him ' but with innocent plainness laments the odium with which he is regarded, and prays his kinsman to counsel the Osmissal of those worthless favourites to whom she ascribes the evil deeds imputed so him. Her father is about to be deprived of his estate I by means of one of those rapacious measures perpetrated in 'those days in the name of the crown; and Lilian expresses an eager desire for an interview with the duke, that she may plead her father's cause; and resolves to accompany the stranger, who offers to conduct her to the duke's presence. All this happens during her father's absence. On his return he discovers his child's departure, and, supposing her guilty, is overwhelmed with grief and anger. Another prominent character of the play has been introduced before this period ; the celebrated John Felton, by whose hand the Make of Buckingham fell. Felton is represented, with historical truth, as a brave old soldier, whose services had been neg lected and unrequited, and wbo, from a sense of injury act ing on his natural disposition, h ad fallen into a gloomy and insane fanaticism. In the play be is a relative of, and lives with, John Saris, to whom and to his daughter he is ten derly attached. Felton discovers accidentally that the Duke is the betrayer of Lilian, and, in an attempt to rescue her, is wounded and disarmed by the duke. Lilian, in the duke's mansion,; is made to believe for a time that her conductor, who continues to preserve his assumed character, will bring her into the presence of the duke ; but at length he throws off the mask, declares his rank, and avows his passion. In a moment the girl's dream is at an end; her lIIUMIT image of the Duke of Buckingham vanishes, and she sees before her the man himself in all his baseness and defor mity. The situation is the most striking in the play, and the burst of withering scorn with which she overwhelms him is actually sublime from the intensity of its expression. The villain, however, recovers his audacity, and is about to pro ceed to violence, when she hears her father's voice without, and wildly *creams for assistance. The curtain falls upon this scene ; but we find in the next act that the old man has been overpowered, and that Lilian has been carried by the duke to Portsmouth, !rem whence he is about to embark in command of the troops scut for the relief of La Rochelle. Lilian's situation is desperate. Her father has followed her, and his only hope is in the sums of an appeal to the king, which John Epslie, a devoted friend (whose character has an interest of its own into which we cannot enter) has undertakento make. As a lost resource, the old man, through Epslie who, being a retainer of the duke, has access to Lilian, conveys to her a phial of poison, with a melange remieding her of the Roman father who slew his daughter to save her from dishonour. Buckingham, to accomplish his deem upon Lilian, resolves to delay the sailing of the troops, and treats with hurtles and brutal taunts the remonstrances of the-4We.* envoy, against a delay productive of V 'meek misery to the unfortunate people of Rochelat i eSpaher ru f . or s d h t , h " a e t i t i m h n e m:edi o late e d n e re t i i w l v es er h a s :) . 7o i f . B L a uc i t cfaLts g9 s . poimildmooteanith.f.r he see the stage, he is stabbed to the heart by the fahrefron. Poor Lilian, meanwhile, *icing no appearancero succour, swallows the poison in despair, and dies in th i a hilt father. This pathetic tale is very clearly .utifially chom t told. The incidents 112. well connect , I rile to many striking initiation*. The':. . • of the " fine old English gentleman ' -44_. .. , ' Il g htful from beginning to end, and its representation, Phelps, was one of the most successful that we kayo ever ' seen et this soter's efforts, Been in the most iatrweensa 7; :>.