The Express. — London, England, 1851-07-05 00:00:00

LITERATURE. i teemed, the Fos. Longman+. In the \\ irtemberg compartment of the Exhibi- I thin there placed a collection of stuffed animals, which few who have wandered in the 11 Crystal' Palace ..%e not stopped to admire. The fox, the , wk, the hare, and a host of their companion- burlesque most completely by turns the import-hee, the hypocrisy, and the pride of man. The chief actor, however, is the Fox, now a pilgrim, now a confessor, now a teacher, and .now a protector o. poultry. The labels of this collection refer the s stator to the apologue of lteinecke der Fuchs, a work little known in this country, although i, formes' one of the books printed by our ov ii Caxton for the delectation of his age. The Germans regard it as one of the wisest, as it certainly .4 one of the most entertaining, hooks over writtea. As Mr. Carlyle has remarked, "Among that peopl, ,t was long a house-book, and uuiscrs.d beat cutups in: it has been lectured on in univer sities, quoit. I in imperial council-lulls, it lay on the toilettes of , inces, and was thumbed to pieces on the bench of t!. artisan; we hear of grave men rank ing it nee' to their Bible." A work of which so much can b affirmed must abound in the elements of populari.y. In truth, it is universal as Shak 'Team utul •socid as Hogarth. The origi.. of this poem us a collective whole dates front the iii;.!ille of the fifteenth century. Sagas of the animal world abounded among the Teutonic races, and tie unknown author of Iteineeke Fuchs has eol:eetisl these, and made them the vehicle of an exquisite sat ire on the vies of priests and the de vices of one tiers, not sparing majesty itself. The learned Germans hold it to he a complete picture of feudal manNers; and lleineccius, one of their most able jurists. declares that it has often assisted him in clearing up :lie jurisprudence of Germany. In truth, it is a pert; ct epic, embracing, like Jiante's great work, the v. hule middle-age world. The plot is developed in the course of a humorous narrative ut , he rogueries of Itcynard the Fox, whose resources ao•I talent in extricating himself from the complicatio of a series of life-long villainies, and happy invei , i Mit in frustrating the endeavours of the whole cum 'unity to bring him to condign punish ment, as at, iiieorrigible martrais Rigid', are wrought up into asi los of moll:oval portraitures. There is nothing a!: .h this vade-mecum of worlderaft does not contaii The king, the lawyer, the statesman, the prelate, Are fitted to their heart's content. 'Their order is ty ,ratiol, and their individuality satirised in a charniiiir exposition of their esprit de no , lier. The rogueri s or the Fox, who seems to act here a part like Bs, Mephistopheles in (lathe's " Faust," are a sort of motive power which drive on the other animals to their doom. It is the one fault, the weak side of the victim, by means of which the arch impostor e anniands his success. His sagacity is greater than his endowments; and by the sharpness of his wits Ile finds out the character of his victim, so that his artful practices are never applied but to its most as-:viable point. Here the poet strives to point out th.• great secret of mundane success—the knowlefte the weak side of the world around as, and the great rule by which to make that know ledge useful, namely, to play on it without remorse. But to the pea. The king—the lion of course— proclaims u great feast, to which the subject animals repair. Isgrini the wolf, Curtiss the (log, and Chan ticleer the cock, on that occasion make their several complaint+ against the wolf', who has absented him self for ft iir of that punishment which he knows he deserves. So a day is appointed wherein lteynard is to tome ael judge himself of his offence. Bruin the hear is delighted to undertake the office of bringing th common enemy to justice, and journeys to 'breed's castle. lteyuard hears the sum mons la loss stronghold, but is in no hurry to come out tic he has thought of a device for getting rid of Bruin. At length he appears; he is very sorry that the ministry shatilil have sent so distin guished a noble on a lung and wearisome journey. lie had intended next day to set out for court. bo he beguiles Bruin till supper is thought of and honey mentioned ; thereupon he takes occasion to inform Bruin where there is a store large enough for a year's eating. It lay in a hollow true iu Lanfert, the wheelrighes, yard. To the bear the attractions of a honey least are irresistible; so the two set off together laid reach the place. glit when Iteynard Bruin led, Th-.- e:oelpole slumbered sound adasl. A are -lwright was the wan by trade, And k lteynard knew it well) had laid An oua stump in the yard which he Was owing for an axle-tree. The storm. a proud way half was riven, And 00, the cleft a wedge deep driven Six iu boa down. fluoth Iteynard, " See More honey, cos, lies in this tree Than you may think, just pup your snout in The r oink there Mil you'll nut he doubting. l'oor Linda thus was she or bewattled, And ioi his hurry well nigh throttled. At le.,gth his snout well in he squeezed, Maynard, alert, the moment seised. Snap a mot the wed ‘ .:e from out the cleft, And ou the instant Bruin to In ith.ory transfixed to swing. Thus do s the Fox leave the King's messenger, who press:on. hinuself at einirt next day without his cars or seilis to add another to the complaints 1 against the villain Iteynard. The Cat Tibert, re nowited for gravity and wisdom, is next Bent to mammon It pan'. Tibert finds hint staudiug be fiwe his ensile gates. and delivers his mermage. Welcome, dear cousin," replies the Fox, "I obey your c mini ms's, and wish the King infinite days of Lippint , s. Let me entreat you to rest with me to night, and t..'se such cheer as my simple house of ten's. and to-marrow, us early us you will, let us go together to court." The toe offers his guest a batty-cuing, but learning that he much prefers mice, offers to le oil him to a Fusion's tithe-burn, where they scamper by thew:lnds. 'the overjoyed cat goes : Thus blinding, trusting, Tibert wends Ilis w .y unto the barn ; the friends Steal underneath a wall of mud, Which •.teall of brick and mortar stood. The night before the priest had mined A fowl (•t had ...red the fox for grist ; At break "(day right through the wall Ile'd make an early morning call). The I*ra...issue Martin was the first To ti0..1 it out—he swore and cunt At thieso•—the scented thief the worst. A eerd athwart the hole be slung, And made it tight ; the end he hung A loot torso behind, and tied A slip-knot, which he looped up wide To catch the chief. This It. ynard knew, And said to Tibert, Go you through This lode and mouse at pleasure; I'll Star hen• to keep look out the while." QuLth tibert, " Is it quite safe, Nunky ? Because I do feet somewhat funky; I never like to trust a priest." (lauds Re7nard, 'fherc now, what a beast Wee; 1, to lead a timid man In d muss r's way. If you're afraid Let us go luck at once my blade ! My wile at home sill warm us up Some broth of well-picked bones to sup ; There's lots of weleoni. , in my house— But, candidly, there's not one mouse." Grimalkin stayed no further flouting, For, nettled at the Fox's doubting pluck, he made a vigorous spring In at the hole ; the plaguy string Was by the sudden jerk pulled taut And round hi. neck Grimalkin caught. The Fox now derides the eat, as he had before done the bear, and makes off home. Poor puss tinds her way back to court with broken bones, at which the king is enraged. The Badger is next commissioned to carry the summons, and Reynard thinks he may now ass well go quietly. relying on his value to the king, and especially on his innocence, to bring him off victorious over his malicious calumniators. As they go along Itcynard confesses an amazing cata logue of sins. This ended, and absolution received, he agains sets off with Greybeard, the badger, on his journey. Ile sees a nanuery well stocked with capons, turkeys, and geese, and impresses on his companion that the right road leads straight through the poultry y ard. They enter, and a fine cock is soon laid b y his heels. "Oh what ! have you forget par Yew h " Cried Greybcanl, " Cnale mine, how now; What can base put within your brain To take to the old trade again ? Why make confession, if you meant, Your sins in this way to repent " Renard replied, in earnest sort, " fl y i cloud Coe., I did but sin n thought ; Pray heaven the whim to overlook This once, henceforth live by book." Again they start—and now their way Amor • ammo fast-bridge lay: Bernard went last ; in furtive glance Oft turned his longing countenance Back on the fuwl, he could not otf it, No, nut e'en 11.0 l his head (raid forfeit, Which, had it Irmo ehupp'd off by bill, Had teen the son r direction still. It was a mere tons up e'vti now, He'd find 116 way hack yet somehow. Grbeard the tendency perceived Of Keynard's mind, and said " I'm griee'd To sec denoted in your eye The hidden sin of gluttony. Heed nut the fowl."—" What speech is this ?" tluoth Reynard. "Much I take amiss Such impious talk. Now, may I choke, If I did other than invoke A Paternoster and a prayer From those same hole ladies there, For all the souls of ail the hens l've slain by dozens and by tens, Within that cloister!" They arrive at the city, and the plebeian crowd, albeit each had hi, charge to prefer, are awed by his noble bearing. His nonchalance he So well displayed. that men to fancy Began they hail too harshly judged. In short, compassion Throughout the public bosom 'gas, As brambles do about green gorse, Deep roar to strike Spice, and ran, Pricking the conscience with remorse. He is, nevertheless, tried and condemned to ban. Now Reynard's friends, who to the court In no scant number made resort On this occasion—an the Stoat Who studied law, and learned to quote Cant terms with Greybeard, and some few By blood allied, soon as they knew The sentence of the Kinr, deplored Their kinsman's fate with one accord. Was he (they argued somewhat rightly), Descending from a stock so knightly, To be thus low humiliated ? Nay, to a cowman gallows fated ? They send to the King and ask an audience " to take leave." The King in dungeon took to heart So many noble" should depart, For powerful was Replant', clan, And they resolved on't to a man. At last, however, the crafty Fox is on the gallows, the Bear and Cat being willing executioners, yet full of misgiving lest their enemy should escape. Intense was Reynard'a agony As drew the lawful moment nigh; Yet were his thoughts collected all As from his own to others fall. They turned and busied thus his mind, " Help me, good fottune, now to find Some master stroke, smite mighty touch, Of powerful spell, that 1 may clutch At lif.• o ice more and victor rise To trample on my enemies. The King incensed, the people storm, Two giants leagued against a warn. One chance remains—could I but pt To make a speech, I'd fool them yet. Let them but lint to what I say, I'll swing not yet thin many a day. Good people all, be not amazed To hear a penitent's last words, As on the gallows, bound with cords, lie stands. You'll grant my prayer, I know, Ere from the midst of you I go. Thus he gets an opportunity of speaking, and con fesses his early sins. With mien prostrated, Deep hollow von* and up coat eye, Ile groaned, "Spiritus Domini ! Now help me ! as I live, I sec None here whom I've nut wronged ; ah, All aorta of wickedness were sweet To me before I left the teat. From early infancy innured To waywardness--in vice matured! The flesh of lambs was my delight ; Stray kids I chased from morn to night." And thus he continues until he craftily contrives to allude most casually to a hidden treasure : Threat the King with ears erect— " Whence did you all three goods collect ?" Itcynard continued, " Why should 1 Of this make any mystery ? I'll tell you they were stolen all From those who once conspired your fall, By me, who now about to shed My blood whilome did save your head." The King orders— Let all the multitude form ring And (sons the gallows ReynareClift, Whilst we this hbexly treason sift. The matter is of moment clearly: Our person it concerneth nearly. They bade hint first descend; this done, Their Majesties would speak alone With Keenan', and aside they go Aline fug particulars to know. They conjure hun to disclose all, whereupon (tooth Reynard, " Sure asi 1 to die, And what would't profit me to lie? Should I my soul with sins encumber— Already more than 1 can number ? No, better far the truth be stated, E'eu though the matters implicated My flesh and blood ; should I conceal, Hell torments I shall surely feel." He proceeds in his disclosures, and brings a mighty plot to light. Ile persuades the monarch that the Bear has been p lotting to become King, and that the Cat and the Wulf were accomplices with him. He (the Fox) from pure loyalty plundered the store of treasure which was to be used in =Ty ing out their schente, so defeating the plot. lie would discover this treasure to the King, so his life might be spared. The King doubts his tale, but the Queen prevails, litCall.*: Reviiard is changed and penitent now, as may be seen by his implicating his own father. The Fox lies so well, that the King and Queen beg his pardon, take him out before the courtiers, and call upon all to pay him honour, and trouble his Majesty no more with their idle tales against hint. lagrim, the wolf, hearing of the strange turn which things are taking, is so imprudent as to go to court and protest. For his presumption he is apprehended with the Bear, and charged with high treason. The Fox will set out for Rome next day on pilgrimage, and wants nothing but a strong pair of shoes fur the journey. lie perceives that Is grim has a pair of shoes that would just suit him,so the skin of the simple Wolf's fore-feet is pulled of, and placed at his service, while a piece of the Bear's skin is stripped to make hint a scrip fur his travels. Thus provided, he craven the church's benediction and sets out, accompanied at his especial request by the Hare and the Ram. The Fox makes straight for his own castle, inveigles his companion, the Hare, within doors, snaps off his head; makes of it a parcel for the King, and sends it back by the un suspecting Ram. The King perceives how he has been befouled, and new complaints are laid against Reynard the Fox. The villain, however, does not give up his hopes, but melees to accompany . the Badger to court once more. On the way he is at his old knack of con fessing : Awl, $l3 of yore, With conscience settled we the score, As thou wilt well remember, so At this time I would likewise do. Gnat efficacy: I derived Aforetime, wacu with thee I shrived, And of my since committed sins I'd be absolved, 40 here begins. Presently he proceeds: Then let one see, 1 did inveigle The Hare, and snapped him like a beagle. His head I wrapped in merry sport, And stilt it by the Ram to court, Which got him in a mess. The Cony I made about the ears feel funny; The Hook me righteously accused I dined upon his wife, then used Her claws fur toothpicks." At the end of his confession Greybeard tells him that— " As wrong cries out for retribution, So sin loth thirst for absolution. 'Tis thus with you, but much 1 fear MY help will nap avail to clear That mutter touching Lappet's head : No shrift will eall to life the dead." "Tut, tut," quoth Keynard, "what the King May think of that—a trilling thing. 'Twere hard oa us poor country folk, Who love the enjoyment of a joke, To make our little world a cloister, And sentence each Italph-Royster-Hoystor His beads to tell and say his prayers, Lest be be trapped in Satan's snares. And as for Lappet—see you, Cur., The mischief of his making was. So list and sleek he frisked about, Ana leered so saucily (the lout), lily stomach could not bide the sight," lie gets once more to court, where all look black at him. Making his way to the throne he harangues the king, and prays May he to whom all hearts are known, From yonder Empyrean throne Look dozen benignly from on high, And bless this goodly company ! wisdom be your constant guide, Iliejuatioe Su your courts preside; And temper all your rountels! for, In this world do the wickel rear. He goes on to talk of his perjured calumniators, and the assassins who stab him behind his back; but ho is confident in the king's penetration, and so on. The king is exceeding wrath, and exclaims : At I.e.t I have thee ! And by all That's holy thou shalt not for:stall This time the hangman of his due. The Fox is not daunted at this rebuff, but goes on to explain away by ingenious lying the complaints of the Cony and the Hook, and makes it appear that the Ham must have murdered the Hare, of whose death he was till then ignorant. Ile demands the ordeal of s battle, like a true baron, and, by a sly, foul thrust, disables his adversary, and comes off a victor from the field. The king descends from his throne ; While flutist-a, his obedience shown, Knelt down, the king, upstanding, spake:— " Itcynard, this sword as guerdon take, Bravely in combat has thou borne thee. Friends, all! let this great verdict warn:ye How wag your tongues in accusation 'Gainst characters of rank and station. In thee, thou champion, now and hero Of infamy I speak thee clear As newly driven snow is white, Sans year, et sans reproche in light. Finding the value of the fox's craft, tho King makes him his chief councillor. In this wise was the fox promoted, With honours. stars, distinctions coated, Till almost cumbersome they felt, So fast the trumping cards were dealt. At length, departing from the scene Which had fur him so shifting been, Ile travelled home by owl stages, With trains of servitors and pages. Now, if you curiously inquire, The Iteyuards are proverbially A numerous, scattered family: Search where you will throughout the map Of Christendom, its vigorous sap Ilath rooted, and the branches shoot Leaves evergreen, and clustering fruit: All more or less, in some degree, Take after the old parent tree. Though heralds make a fuss and clatter About the quarterage—no matter. • • God shield us all from sin and folly, Anil purge our thoughts of melancholy. If the reader hag derived any gratification from the present cursory inspection of this old poem, he is indebted to Mr. S. Naylor, whose translation, made use of in the foregoing quotations, is the nearest ate preach yet made in English to the spirit and vivacity of the original. The Journal of Design. Nos. XXVII., XXVIII., XXIX. Chapman and Hall. 1 The articles which have lately appeared in the Joru•nal Ilesiute on departments of the Great Ex hibition deserve careful consideration front the ma nufacturers with whose industry they deal. Th..se artielt s are evidently written by sound practical authorities, and the text is illustrated by samples of the goods criticised. As a work devoted to a deft- nite end the Journal of lksipi is, in every sense of, the word, an excellent publication—sound in its opi nions and fully competent to deal with the techni calities of modern manufactures. From one of its literary papers, h 1• Mr. Owen Jones, we extract an essay on the distribution of form and colour deve loped in the articles exhibited in the Indian, Egyp tian, Turkish, and Tunisian departments of the Ex hibtion. It is entitled diva r laity ally. nuri. t it- in me of rn that ate was or, and turned Twin- lnalwby, manner. t otriott 0. wet* n, it op- Aron to of lb* ~ isr him, head of le Green k.. a 11111 a lied the gire joie ortunoto re.ult of w y acet ,ion woo eased eM ; he l i the de .inn with rather was oh eat tn• 00 e had no t. the en -01 the de m+ THE EXPRESS, SATURDAY EVENING, JULY 5, 1851. OLTANING FR9 , I THE GREAT EXHIBITION. The several nations of the globe which have arrived at any great degree of civilisation have each possessed reli gious institutions, which have been coeval with their forma tion and vanished with their decline. These, totally distinct from similar institutions which followed or preceded them, aided by the peculiar manners and customs of the pisple, produced a series of styles of architecture which have either entirely varied from or formed a connecting link with flew, which have preceded them, in proportion as the religion of the one was inspired by, or more or less removed in its doctrines from that of the other. In each, urelii*.te ture has closely followed the phases which tile religion has undergone, pure and simple an its origin—majestic, all-sib sorbing ut its ante—meaningless and decrepit' in its de cline. Thus, in the early temples of Egypt, every ornament was a symbol showing, by the excitant._ taste and beauty of its execution, the earnest and loving faith of the hand that starved it; in the more majestic temples of the Pharaohs, 'when the whole power, art, and wealth of the state were made to accumulate upiu nue oint, they lost in beauty what they gained in majesty. Under the Ptolemies, the religion in Egypt lust the power which it had held under the Pharolis; end although the cunquerore, to ingratiate themselves with the people, undertook great works in re building and restoring the temples, the hand that executed has told the tale of the want of ;that union of faith which before had enabled them to execute with art such gigantic undertakings. Under the Romans, the architee bale became a mere mechanical art; the temples were Yager, and the stones more nicely fitted, but their painting sad sculpture excite almost disgust. The religion of the Greeks was a modification of that of the Egyptians, so also was their architecture, the types of some of its most characteristic features existing in Egypt long before Greece had arisen from a primitive state. The religion of the Egyptians was in its origin purely spiritual and mystic, but in the 2our.e of time, long before it had passed to the Greeks, from the worshipping of all animated nature, the air, the stars, the sun, the moon, which they represented by certain forms of men and animals from the adoration of the thing signified they passed to that of the object itself, and their divinities became invested with the supposed actions and attributes of the heavenly bodies, unmindful of the allegory which hail called them into exis tence. Hence the religion of the Greeks, as derived from the Egyptraue, was purely material ; so also was their ar chitecture; feelingly atilt: to all the bounteous gifts of na ture, they embodied them in their art ; conceiving God itt the image of man, they made men like gods. In Greece, that flea of nature, so different from the flat country of the Nile, induced a great modification in their architecture; the eye, accustomed to wander over the sharp angles and accidental curves of the vast mountains of this favoured soil, inspired an architecture in sympathy with its character ; in Egypt, where nature had shown her solemn grandeur under forms more cabal, the mind of man was enabled to expand and make up for the absence of the gran deur in nature's works by the buildings which he had nivel upon the soil. Nut so Greece ; there the bolder features of nature's countenance awed man into respect fur her won drous charms, which, however, by his fertile genius, lie ea/ enabled to make use of, though lie could not rival them; fur we here see the temples of their gods, which in modern times are mule to represent in crowded cities, with equal pro. priety, a Christian church, a theatre of pleasure, or an hospital for sack, soaring like the eagle on the mouutain-top, which funned their pedestal, and seeming to add a delicate finish to the highly-wrought works of nature. If the religion of the Egyptians in the hands of the Greeks lost a portion of its character, with the Romans it became almost powerless, possessing the outer forms and ceremo nies of worship, but not the inward faith ; the Romans erected 0 aspics upon a Brander and more extravagant settle, but wanting in that feeling, that exquisite taste and sym pathy with their mytaoitagy, which so distinguished the works of the Greeks and Egyptians. Having attained an almost boundless power over the earth, they set themselves up as gods, neglecting those which had been handed down to them by their foretatlisrs ; the real religion of the Ito mans, er tie which bound all ins u together moving sympa thetically round oue centre, was glory, conquest, luxury hence the monuments which the ltanuaus have handed down to us. as the true chronicle of their times, are the Co. liseum, the baths, theatres, palaces, :end triumph all arches— these only Can lay claim to any originality of invention. On the ruins of paganism rote the Christian religion, an unlike any of the preetaliue as it was superior to them, and produced sin art equally datiuct ; and although many of the works of architecture which were the result of this religion were not inspired from it, and were erected in countries where paganisan was not thoroughly effaced, and resembled its wanks, it is accounted for by the vast remains of heathen temples which the early Caristiaus converted to their use ; end in the buildings afterwards era act' oa the barite soil they could never throw aside the shackles imposed upon them by those with which they had grown up, and in winch, as pagans, they had worships), d ; but as Christianity spread to other countries removed from this iutlueuee, the pagan forms were gradually abandoned, and Christian architecture unfolded itself in sill its glory. This, like all other arts, has had Its hour of faith and struagfr, its day of joy and intoxication, and time °flings:r ing disease mad death. The Reformation. by separating the tie which had ever existed between religion and art, was a deathblow to Christian architecture from which it has never yet recovered, destroying the unity . of the , Christian religion, creating as many sects and divisions as there are individual followers of Christ ;—eaula man left to be the interpreter of its bidden mysteries, each expressed them differently. The Christian temples failed to represent Christian thoughts, and emblems of sacrifices from pagan altars were made to adorn the temple of the one Gail. The attempts which have been made of late years to re vive Christian art, however beautiful they have been as copies of a bygone style, have all signally tailed, and ever will fail, to awaken a universal sympathy: many of the works erecting in this style will out be finished ere the fashion which has called them into existence shall have passed away. They may remain to illustrate the nation's greatness and resources, her wonderful mechanical appli , aaces, but can reflect nothing more to posterity than the favourite affectation of to-day. Similar attempts to revive Elizabethan architecture have reed the same fate, and the revived Italian style, whki may possibly, flow being a little nearer our own times, be destined to a longer life, must ultimately go with the rest The universal thirst which now exists for an architecture is 'harmony with our institutions and modes of thought maid ultimately be satisfied. It is evident that had the asselania been wastraiuted with oar praseamt materials at comma art facilities of construction, had they had our institutions and complete control over the industrial prmesses, their archi tecture would have been very dillerent to what it was. Why, then, should we continue to consider architecture as a thing once discovered, and to recognise only the forms in which it has hitherto appeared ? Architecture is progres sive, and must k... 10 pace with the skv..lopment of the wants, the faculties, and sentiments of mankind. The great industrial movement which of late years has thrown so much of power and interest on railways and other great national works should have aided this ; but unfortu nately it arrived before the artistic world was prepared to acknowledge it. lint it may have done its work in this, by showing more prominently the disordered state of artistic minds. It has awakened in the public a desire for higher results; instead of suspension bridges alternately Egyptian or Gothic, railways covered with architectural productions of every variety of style, front Doric termini to Moorish tunnels, the new materials used, the new wants to be sup plied, should and might have suggested forma more in har mony with the end in view. The religion of Mahomet, which spread mcteorlike over the east with such astounding rapidity, rapidly produced an art in unison with its poetic and imaginative doctrines. For bidden by their creed to represent the human form, the followers of Mahomet were led to adorn their temples as none others have been. A most elaborate system of onto mentation grew up, recalling, perhaps, the silken tissues which had adorned their tents in their wandering state, whilst their religion impressed itself ou all their works; texts from the Koran, interwoven with ever y ornamen t, a dd e d b eaut y and expressed faith. We observe, however, in the archi tecture of the Mahometans the same anomaly which we have before seen in that of the Christian+. Whenever the Mahomedan invaded and conquered Christian nations, drove them from the soil, occupied their temples, and de voted them to the worship of their own God, we find that all future buildings er,cel in the some chines have felt the influence of those already adapted to the new worship; but as the religion spread far and wide to new countries beyond this influence, the Mahometans, left to the full play of their lively and fruitful imaginations, produced and perfected the most refined and elegant styles of architecture that has ever yet appeared. Shorn as they are of their lower to produce great works, they are still faithful to the art as to the reli gion of their ancestors, and the many wonderful specimens of their industrial works in the Great Exhibition show them still equal in their power of producing refitted works of art to what they ever were. THECRYSTAL PALACE-TO THE RESCUE. (From Punch.) Mr. Paxton asks—" What is to become of the Crystal Palace ?" And Mr. Paxton replies to the question in a manner at once delightful and practicable. lie says let the Crystal Palace be a " Winter Park under Glass." And then in his own workmanlike, characteristic way, he proceeds to show what a Garden of Eden for the sans and daughters of fallen Adam may blossom and look green in Ifycle Park ; the while au English winter shall rage out side the Crystal panes, and with —the 'secret ministry of frost Shall hong them up in ellen! icicles, Quietly ehining to the silent moon." ' With a few sentences our Crystal Magician fills the pa lace with every condition of natural and artistic beauty. Fountains leap up and fall in diamond showers ; orange groves blossom ; statues—a whole Walhalla of English worthies—gleam whitely from among the trees ; the atmo sphere is fraught with odours ; and still old English Winter in his most savage mood may bluster without biting almost the heart of English oak. The Crystal Palace, then, is not to melt away like the silver mist of a summer morning. No; it is to stand, a brilliant and enduring monument of the genius of its de signer ; a monument, a thousand times more glorious to him that is the great pyramid to the questionable memory of its architect. Vhe glass shall outshine the granite. For there can be no doubt that Mr. Paxton'', question, " What is to become of the Crystal Palace?" will be an swered by a consenting, and, we may add, a grateful people, in the words of the quarist himself; "lei the Crystal Palace become a Winter Park under Glass." Already, we can anticipate somewhat of the ceremony that shall inaugurate the opening of the Crystal Paradise ; that shall give a fitting welcome and an enduring home th English Flora. There is Queen Victoria, with a wreath of roses around her brow, Prince Albert with the olive branch, the Royal Children with buds and blossoms, and all the officers of the court and household in,:appnipriate costume, and bearing &sal and sylvan emblems. And now, Paxton turns up the soil; and presents to her Majesty a sampling oak—slim as the Chamberlain's wand—and the Queen plants the young tree in commemoration of the day, and— From yon blue heavens above us bent, The grand uW gardener anti law wife Smile upon the act. Far that tree shall stand for hundreds of years, the green monument of the happy, humanising thought that caused the nations of the earth to come together in their works beneath a crystal temple ; to engage in the contest of commerce and art ; and thence to take away a solemn lesson continually teaching peace and good will towatils all men. And Prince Albert will also plant his own monumental olive—mei every one of his children some tree henceforth to bear the name el the planter, to flourish for generations "a kindred grove." This, Pale h, w ith his old, prophetic eye, already sees: meanwhile, let the great gardener Adam Paxton siwak in the present. " In the winter garden I propose, climate would be the principal thing studied. All the furnishing and fitting up would have special reference to that end, so that the plea sure found in it would be of a character which all who visit could share. Here would be supplied the climate of southern Italy, where multitudes might ride, walk, or re cline, amidst groves of fragrant trees; and here they might leisurely examine the winks of nature and art, regardless of the biting east winds or the drifting snow." " Mr. Paxton never failed in anything he undertook," is the testimony of the the princely Devonshire; and we already see the gleaming statues, we already snuff the fra grancy of the trees in Paxton's pamphlet even though at present they stand only in words, and are redolent of nothing morn odorous than printer's ink. Mr. Paxton pro ceed,. laying out his garden in typo : " Beautiful creeping plants might Le plant against the columns, and trailed along the girders, so as to give shade in summer, while the effect they must produce, by festoon ing in every diversity of form over the building, would give to the whole a most enchanting and gorgeous finish." And the beauty of the inner garden would smile upon the outsiue winter. Mr. Paxton is generously anxious for the comfort of the opposite neighbours to this gardens, an noyed by the " turmoil of so vast an undertaking as the Great Exhibition," and therefore shows that no such dis comfort 'could arise from his future plan. The whole wooden roardin g of the Crystal Palace would be replaced with glass. It would, therefore, be "a thing of beauty " and " a joy for ever " without ; and within, " for the six winter months, a climate equal to Southern Ithly." But Mr. Paxton is not yet done with the garden. Ile fur ther proposes to stock it with animate beauty : " There might be introduced :a collection of living birds from all temperate climates, and the science of geology, so closely connected with the study of plants, might be illus trated on a large and natural scale, thus making practical botany, ornithology, geology, familiar to every visitor." Who knows? We may yet see live humming birds in London ; see them building and sitting, familiarly as we now see breeding canaries? At present we are fain to be richly content with the feast of beauty daily set before us by Mr. Gould's magnificent collection—jewels in feathar ! oeverthe ess, we cannot forego the hope of beholding the live London humming-bird feeding upon the honey of the flower blossoming in Hyde-park. Very beautiful will be the transformation of the present Exhibition. As the nations are now represented by their works of skill, so may they still appear by their floral mem bers. Dutch tulips may take the place of Dutch butter churns, and banyan!' grow where now are Indian muslins, and Indian cloth at' gold. And there will be ample space for the sculptured forms of all of England's past worthies, with worthies present, and worthies to come. or will Punch object to a figure of the gallant Sibthopp himself, if Mr. Paxton will condescend to clip either holly or hornbeam into an evergreen likeness of the Crystal-denouncing member. Assuredly there would be a touch of magnanimity in the act, if Mr. Paxton would thus, and only thus—cut the colonel. But the expense of the garden; C s. d. are the snakes that are still apt to trouble our outer Eden. Well, Mr. Paxton gives in his estimate of ANNUAL EXPENDITURE. Labour, fuel, water, implements, gravel for walks feeding nod attendance to birds, and general superintendent Besides the above, constant painting and renewal would be required ; fur this a reserve fund should be provided, and by this means it might be kept renewed for ever 4,000 Making a total of £12,000 It is calculated that, on the close of the Exhibition, the Commissioners will be embarrassed with the possession of a net ',lupin. , of a 110,0001. Will, then, let them with the I money reverse the Eastern story, i n w hi c h a man fi n d s hi s Igolden pieces of the over-night green leaves in the morning. Let the Commissioners be immediately empowered to turn their money into leaves and flowers. COCHT OF COMMON COCNClL.—Yesterday a court was held in the Mansion-house, when a petition against the Smithfield Removal Bill was adopted. The report of the City Lands Committee was brought up ; it concluded as follows:—Your committee have further con sidered the subject, and are of opinion that an abundant and cheap supply of pure water to the inhabitants of the Metropolis will not be obtained by dissolving the present meter companies, and vesting the whole properties and power of those companies in the bands of the intended Metropolitan Water Company, as proposed by the said bill introduced by government. Your committee are of opinion that an interference of her Majesty's government with the supply of water to the metropolis in the manner proposed is unnecessary and impolitic, and that the manage ment of the water supply should be exercised by a respon sible body elected by the ratepayers, who alone are to provide the requisite funds. That your committee, for the reasons before stated, recommend this honourable court to pre sent a petition to the hon. the House of Commons against the Metropolis Water Bill. And the Remembrancer hav ing by order of your committee prepared the draft of a petition accordingly, they imbmit the same to your honour able court. The report was received and agreed to unani mously, as was the petition, which was an echo of it Ths court then &dammed. MR. THACKERATS LECTURES. --- Sterne anti Goldsmith were the subjects of Thurs- 1 day's keture, the I ist of Mr. Tliackeray's series. lie bran by sk. tching the facts of Stern's life. He' was the son of an Mlieer in a marching regiment, who died from a wound in a duel—a rough good fdfow, who marched on tiU he met with the fatal goose who put a termination , to his existence. Young Lawrence went to school at Hali fax; to Jesus College, Cambridge; and ultimately got tho living of Sutton, in Yorkshire. Mr. Thackeray's first comments on his character were l founded on his love affidn. lie was found addressing tho . lady whom he married with the most sentimental passion. I He spoke of her as a flower. But such a fountain as Mr. Sterne's love was not for one rose only. No. When years I had passed over he wrote, in a letter to a friend, in dog- , Latin, and very sad dog-Latin, that he wished his wife was dead. She " bored him," it would seem. And he wrote letters full of sentiment to " Eliza," his " dear child," 2 and so on—a Mrs. Draper, the wife of an Indian offi c i a l, ' much respected in that quarter of the globe ; yet scarcely !, had she sailed from Dover in 17 . 67 than the worn-out old scamp was offering his heart to somebody else. Soon afterwards his cadaverous body was consigned to Pluto. , To be sure there were signs oil grace in his last letters—' 1 those to his daughter, his letters to whom usually breathed love and kindness. I It was always, the lecturer went on, a perilous case that of a man who had to bring his inner life, his tears, his smiles, his hoes, his fears, b,.fore the public for money. Did ho feign indignation ? Did he assume ? Did he pre- tend ? Could he trust him-elf? Was he not tempted to cant ? How much was true sensibility ?—how much false ? Where did the truth end and the lies begin ? He (the lec turer) had some time before passed the evening with a French singer. This man, after singing for a long time to the pain of many of his hearers rhaascms of a questionable' character—sang a sentimental one. He did it charmingly;' everybody was moved, and nobody more than the singer himself. Now, Sterne hail something like that ah nit him. He blubbered over his paper; he had a lucrative art of weeping; he utilised his an.;uish. Sterne often, Mr. Thaekeray confessed, disgusted him. " Ile looks his read , r in the face; he watches what effect he has on him; he seems to say 'Do cry.'" Cheat hnmourists laughed natu rally out of their great manly hearts, but this man never let his reader alone. Sterne was a great jester, not a great humourist. You could fancy you saw him laying down his carpet before beginning to perform on it. For instance, let us look at his " Sentimental Journey." Did not he seem to go deliberately prepared to make matter of it all ? Ile had no sooner landed than he began to make, so the actors say, " business." Could anybody beiieve alit& sentiment genuine? lie whimpered over a dead donkey, over which anybody (mill Mr. Thackeray) may cry "who likes." That dead donkey was cooked in piquant knife . In fact, the donkey had a hnc funeral—an clegaut hearse, the mourner with a white pocket-handkerchief, and all got up tor purposes of scenic et': ct. That donkey had been used before. (Here he read the well-known passage concerning it in " Tristram Shandy.") The critic (he re sumed) who could not see in this description, senti ment, humour, and wit, must be hard to please. And the peasant life in the south was excellently described by him—a man of the keenest enjoyment and sensibility. But it was a painful fact that scarcely one page of Sterne was perfectly pure; there was a latent corruption in what he , did ; a taint oiliad. Yon saw the satyr eyes glaring through 'the leaves. How different this from the pure sunny pages of one of his successors of to-day—a man for whose books one was grateful—the author of " David Copt erlield ! " With this allusion to Charles 'Sickens, which drew forth loud applause from the audience, the lecturer passed from Sterne to Goldsmith. What a fortune had Goldsmith had in our history ! To be the most beloved of English authors, what a lot was that: The pleasant, gentle, wandering minstrel—it was de lightful to see how, through all his career, he atl.c tionately turned his eyes to home. lie peopled his books with the figures of house. The charm of his works was in the tact that they contained his character, his simple honest regrets, his love and sympathy. " Our love for him is half-pity." Whom did he ever hurt ? Ile bears no weapon hut his limp ; with that he ',asses into every palace and cottage, delights all ranks and clues: s. Goldsmith not less than } irlding hail the merit of pre serving his cheerful goodness and love of truth through distress and difficulty. Ile was never so friendless but lie could have a friend somewhere; if he had only his flute he could delight the poor with that ; was never so psior hut he could spare something to a poorer ; he could ptwn his trousers to save his landlord from gaol. Ile certainly endured great distress and pain; one could scarcely bear to read of it; you felt an auger when you heard of his being hurt such as you felt at hearing of a cruelty exercised towards a woman or a child. Mr. Thackerav thus mentioned the various well-known anecdotes of Goldsmith, and referred with respect to his biographers, to the industry of Prior, the eloquence of Forster, and the love of Washington Irving. Ile also quoted some of the finest lines in the " Deserted 'Village," and re ferred with delicate tenderness to his love for Mary llorneek, the " Jemmy Bride." Ile alluded to the extravagance of his later life, but called on his hearers to re weather how constantly he shared what he had with his numerous dependent., and appealed to their sympathy and pity. "Think," he exclaimed, "of the pen sioner weeping at his grave—think of the righteous pen that wrote his epitiiph ! " How well the world has paid back all tim love he had for it ! Ills figure sterns to be with us still, and pleading to us in favour of the poor. • • • • Having announced that the was the last of his dis courses, Mr. Thackeray took occasion to declare his opinions on a subject on which he is known to entertain strong ones—the relation of men of letters to " society." lie protested markedly against the complaint that is sometimes made of their being neglected. "We do," he said, " meet, with kindness." lie urged that no laws or regulations could have saved the men he had been treating of from the troubles which they brought upon themselves. Ile main tained that society treated a man with due regard to what he did and was ; it gave him fair place and fair play, lie ridiculed all absurd pretensions on the part of writers in this matter, and inquired whether the author of the last new no eel, or the last new poem was to have a guard of honour appointed specially for him ? And, speaking gratefully of the kindness which he himself had met with, he concluded the last of a series of instructive and brilliant commenta ries on a class of writers with whom he has associated himself both as brother and judge. There was a marked sympathy in the applause which greeted his discourse. THE REPRESENTATION OF THE BOROUGH OF KNARESTIOILOUGH in parliament, vacant by the death of the Right lion. W. S. Laseelles, is sought for by Mr. Thomas Collins, jun., who, as seen by the address he yes terday issued to the electors, is " in favour of maintaining in all its integrity the established church, both in England and in Inland; and, while allowing civil and religious li berty to all those who dissent therefrom, is opposed to the endowment by the state of the Roman catholic religion, or the concession to Roman catholic eeclesiastigs of precedency and territorial titles inconsistent with the supremacy of the crown." Further, he "cannot ignore the severe depres• sion of the agricultural interest," and considers it the duty of the legislature "either to relieve that interest of every special and peculiar burden, or to give to that in terest an equivalent for the taxation which it hears over and above the rest of the community." Mr. Collins, too, is "an advocate for the utmost economy in the public ex penditure," and thinks "that the amelioration of the n,eial condition of the people, particularly of the poorer classes, ought to be the especial care of the legislature, and a most important portion of that care should he devoted to their education; but, as he firmly believes religion to be the only sure foundation for education, he never can consent to any scheme receiving the aid of the state from which a religious training should be systematically excluded." DEATH OF COL. STORY, LATE OF 3RD DRAGOON G altD3.—Colonel Story died at Brampton on the 3rd in stant, ap.rdfili years. He entered the army in 1803 os a cornet in the 3rd Dragoon (ivards, with which regiment he served in the Peninsular from 1809 to the end of the war in 1814, during which period he commanded a troop. Tho late Colonel Story received the war medal and three clasps for his services at 'Talavera, Albuhera, Vittoria, and Tuu• louse. He was also present at Dusaco, in the cavalry actions of Redinha, Campo Mayor, Lou Santos, and lisarge, at the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo and ltudajos, the action near Salamanca, and the blockade of Pampeluna. UNIVERSITY 110SPITAL.—The committee, at filar meeting on Wednesday last, received payment of 360/. legacy of the late Robert Charles Cullen, Lsq , of Maldon, Essex ; and ordered that sum to be added to the other per manently invested funds of the Hospital, viz.: 31811. be queathed by the late Rev. Dr. Fellowes, and 2001. given by an anonymous benefactor, W. L. D., in 1831 and 1834, with directions that those sums should be invested. TILE POISONING CASE AT SOtTEIWICK.—At the Sundeauid Police Court, on Thursday, Thomas Wood, Cornelius Lyons, and Thomas Rawlings, were again brought up, charged with administering poison to a buy named William Thompson. Mr. Potts, for the prosecu tion, stated that the mother of the boy did not wish to press the charge, being convinced that the nitric acid was not given with a felonious intent. Mr. Manson assured the magistrates that the prisoners had no idea of the power of the acid which had been administered. The magistrates then severely reprimanded the prisoners and diseharged them, ordering them to pay all eapenses.—Sunderland Herald. TILE MILITARY RIOT AT LIVERPOOL.—Tho soldiers charged with the late attack on the police were again exa mikied yesterday, when one of them was sentenced to six weeks' and two to four weeks' imprisonment for assaults on Sunday night, and one was discharged. In the matter of the general riot jhree were Sited 5/. each or two months' , imprisonment, and one was acquitted. The inquiry was proceeding when our despatch leg. ADMIRALTY, JULY 4.—APPOINTMENTS.-- Second Master Mark :kite's, to the Inapregnubse. Second Master T. S. Iluward, and Master's-Assistant C. F. Prickett, to the Trafiegar. Gunner John Quin, and Boatswain Robert Knight, to the Tiger. Gunner Robert Thompson, Boatswain John Budd, and Carpenter John Edwards, to the Argue. Gunner Henry Penisud, Boatswain Edward Harden, and Acting-Carpenter John Cermody to the Bulldog. Carpenter James McCullam, and Acting - Boatswain John Mil Liz, to the Waft:lc:Wl. ENSUING WEEK , GARDENERS' OPERATIONS FOR THE' Prom the Gardener's Meadele. I`LA\T DEPAI:II4 P.T.N Discontinue stopping the shoot 3 of Vine3s, Euphor bias, Poinaettias,Geoneras, Erunthemuras, and other plants of similar habits, which ma designed for autumn or winter flowering; and attend duly to potting, watering, and regu lating the heat and moisture. Plenty of light and air is indis pensable for the ripening of the shoots of these and other plants grown for the same purpose. Amongst these, one of the most useful is the bourn trigynum, produces large clear yellow flowers in great abundance throughout the winter. As the tender kinds of greenhouse plants tolll. plete their growth, they may be set by themselves in houses ur frames, of which the sashes can be easily put oil or re moved. In such a situation, they . can be freely exposed to the sun and air, but at the same time may be covered when the weather is excessively wet. In staging the plants they should lie so arranged as to shade only the puts of those which are behind them. The hardier kinds of greenhouse plants may be set in the open air, without any kind of shading. it is a great mistake to place established plants behind a north wall during any portion of the summer, as if they were taking their season of repose; but on the other hand it is essential that the pots should be protected from the sun. When the plants are necessarily put out of doors during this season, they should be plunged in beds of sifted coal-ashes, taking can; to place them tar enough apart to ensure a free circulation of air amongst them. The train ing of conservatory climbers should be regularly attended I to, avoidiug looseness ur negli gence , b ut st i l l l eav i ng them to hang in graceful festoons from the roof. Main tain the 'lusts in a healthy vigorous state, by occasional watering, with liquid manure, as it is important by every possible means to provide an extensive in-door display of floral beauty for the late autumn mouths, au as to compen sate in some measure for the sudden prostration which will then take place in the open garden. Use the syringe more sparingly, except in the very line weather; and at ail times apply it early enough in the day to allow the superabundant moisture to pass MI before night. Propagate choice csa ccularias, cinerarias, &c., by cuttings ur offsets from the olds plants, taking care that they are tree from the green-fly or other insects. Make auuth:r sowilig of Chinese primates, to flower iu small plots. FORCING DEPAUTMENT. PINEILIES.—Having selected, to meet the demand in win ter and early spring, those plants which are now showing or flowering, and those which shortly promise to do so, a portion of the strongest and best-root e d of those remaining should be' picked out to succeed them; these should be potted immediately, if they any it, and grown . on steadily without any check; any of the Awake plants which are in immediate need of potting should also be attended to. Keep up au uninterrupted euecession, by plautiug a few suckers occasionally in a brisk bottom-heat. Where the plauting-out system is practised, there is no difficulty in keeping up the succession, if all vacancies are lilted up es they occur, with the best plants that can be selected. Viaeries.—As the black Ilaisiburg grape is so liable to shrivel atter it is ripened, and as it is thereby deteriorated in quality, it is advisable to shade them during very hut sunshine. Where the crops are swelling, let the state of the borders be frequently examined especially those which are covered with tarpauliug or other material. If the soil is dry, la the surt:tee be eirefully loosened with a fork, and watered with liquid manure. Examine the bunches of swelling crops, thin crowded clusters, and remove any small berries, which will spoil the sample if allowed to remain. Peaces houses : Admit a free circulation of air through all the houses tinting tine wea ther ; but where the fruit isjust ripening, ventilmion during the night and iu damp weather should be effected by Walls of the front, keeping the top sashes closed, to present cold dews from settling on the fruit. The foliage in the early houses should be kept in a healthy state as long as possible by syringing, and guarding against insect depredators. FLUWER bAUDEX AND NIIIMIIIIEUIRS. Remove suckers from ruse trees, and stop all gross shoots on the summer ti wering kind.. Employ mulching us a means of protecting the soil against evaporation during summer, and especially round stand:at d ruses end other choice shrubs, whose leaves afford little or no shade. Leaf mould, thoroughly rotted dung, or short gram, are well adapted as materials for this purpose, particularly the two former, as the soluble ingredients contained therein will be washed downwards in showery weather. After finishing the pro pagatiun of pinks and carnations, by pipings and layers, proceed with other hardy herbaceous plants, as phloxes, pansies, wallflowers, antirrhinums, psnt stemons, 6": e., all which will strike under handlights with the greatest freedom; or even without such assioffinee; if a shady situation is chosen, and watering is carefully attended to. It is of the first importance to propagate these plants as soon as possible, as time is thereby gained to ulluw of their being pricked out into nursery beds, where they soon become thoroughly established, and are enabled to endure the winter with very slight protection. The old human amnia mak. s a good yell ow bed, continues in Hower all the summer, and is perfectly hardy ; it will strike freely if the cuttings are taken before the wood gets too hard. Sow Ilromptou and queen stocks for spring flowering, mid inter mediate stocks for autumn. A sowing may also be outdo for late autumn flowering of some of the hardier annuals, widish come very quickly into a flowering state. Very much may be done towards stimulating the gre eth of weakly plants, and assist the flowering of healthier OnCli by frequent waterings of liquid manure. It is an expeditious and im mediately succemful mode of increasing the fertility of the soil. Perhaps the flower-garden does not poetess more beau tiful ornaments during early summer than the Ayrshire and evergreen roses, worked high on standards, with their branches allowed to hang down, as nature dictates. his will be a hint to those who are building ruses to select some of the tallest sleeks ffir this purpose ; or, if none of their stocks are large enough for this season's work, some of t' , o strongest shuuid be leR militubled, so that by pruning and liheral treatment sufficiently high stems may be secured against the proper time next year. K ITCH P.N GARDEN% If asparagus beds are liberally , supplied now and during the nest month, with liquid manure front the firm-yard, or eomesuds from the laundry tank, with common salt added, it will effect wonders in the way of improving the size and quantity of next year's crop. Asparagus seedlings should be thinned, and the ground kept in a loose state about tho young plants. It well attended to, and watered with rich water, with a little salt added, it is wonderful how rapidly they will advance. Sow early York Cabbages for trans planting, thick, to draw, as colaworts for autumn use, taking care to adopt effectual mesas for protecting the seed front the depredations of lairds. Sow also a bed of parsley for lute autumn and winter use, upon orotund which has re ceived a rich dressing of soot and well-rotted mar ure. Let no pains be spared to obtain a good stock of taw aerial for mushroom beds, to AUCO.I4I the open fields in supplying this delicacy. Horse droppings are to be preferred for this purpose; able, the excrements of sheep or deer may Ims mixed up with them. Until as much is collected as will make up a bed of the required size, let them be spread very thinly on the floor of a airy airy shed, and turned once a day to pre vent fermentation from taking place. KAMA" Elt 6ARD6V. The young shoots of fruittries gnifted in spring should be securely tied, as they are very liable to split off in windy weather, Commence at once to train them to whatever shape you . have decided on adopting; and fix this year's shoats in the manner hest adapted to form the foundation of the future tree. For pear trees, the shape now most popular is the pyramidal, or more properly speaking, the conical • and for apples the cylindrical. To produce tho latter shape, the young shoots should he trained outwards ' horizontally, forming radii of a circle of the required Ihi a meter ; upon the outside of this, upright stakes 611011111 lie fixed, inches asunder, to support the perpendicular branches; these will he gradually allowedto proceed upwards until they have arrived at a convenient height for training and fruit gathering, when further progress upwards must bo prevented. Care must be taken in the course of their growth, that a proper number of side spurs is produced, so that the perpendicular stems may form wreaths when in flower and fruit. A few side shouts should be allowed to grow long enough to connect the upright branches one with another, so that the trees may in a short space of time become self-supporting; and in a few years, when the branches have become sufficiently fixed to keep their posi tion without the assistance of stake., the latter will of course be removed. To produce pyramidal pear trees, only one main shoot must be permittd to proceed, which will form the stem of the tree ; the growth of side shoots, especially of those towards the lower part of the tree, should be assisted and regulated by judiciously stopping any shoots which are progressing too rapidly for their neighbours. THE AMERICAN ANNIVERSARY OF IN DEPF.ND "seg.—This anniversary was celebrated last evening by a I grand concert, ball, and supper, given to the Hon. Mr. and Mrs. Abbott Lawrence, by Mr. Peabody. The large hall of Willis's-room was the cane of the entertainment, and appropriately decorated with flute and emblems. The I American eagle and colours on a large scale adorned the i wall at one end, and were suspended over a portrait of Washington, whilst on the lower end was it portrait of our Queen with the appropriate arms of England. Though in characteristic compliance with American taste, the lion and unicorn figured in miniature opposite the gigantic representa tion of the eagle, stars, and stripes, this fact was only noticed by the hypercritical, and a Betted nut the spirit and gaiety of the assembled crowd. The company comprised many of the high personages of England in addition to all the moat Atroured of the natives of the United States at present in London. The Duke of Wellington walked in at half-past eleven, and was received with several rounds of cheers, the band playing the usual heroic song that greets the veteran of Waterloo. Sir George Grey was also present, as well as other distinguished persons. The concert, which comprised most of the vocal talent now in London--such voices, for instance, as those of Catherine Hayes, Sod° Cruvelli, Gardoni, and Lablaelic— wes followed by deeming, which was kept up with the greatest animation. The lateness of the hour alone prevents la from noticing the proceedings at the supper, which proved no doubt conducive to the pleasure of all present. Need we say that the whole scene was emblematic of the good understanding which now so happily reigns between England and the United States.