The Press. — London, England, 1856-08-30 00:00:00

t AUGUST 30, 1856. a capital dinner no doubt for two thousand of their own countrymen— there was just enough dry beef to suit their tastes and digestion, there was a bottle of beer and some doubtful pudding to make them flushed and dyspeptic, and a glass or two of champagne to make them enthu siastic—but for two thousand Guardsmen, Heaven save the mark ! they could have demolished treble the quantity of beef and beer, and yet not have suffered dyspepsia, nor experienced such pangs in the midriff as that fruity stuff at 6d. a glass brought about. As it was, to use the words of the men, " there warn't half enough, but the 'bacca's "the best on it." But they bore it cheerily, forgetting their hunger in the warmth of their reception. " Cantabit vaccus coram latrone victor." The empty Guardsman was still merry before the con tractor. We all wished to give the Guards a good dinner; and, in this land of beef, beer, and liberality, a good dinner in the old English style they should have had. The committee, we see, congra tulate themselves that they have a handsome balance in hand to bestow upon a chant) ! Why, that is the very thing they ought not to have had in hand. Rounds of beef and cold plum-pudding they might have anticipated would have been left for charitable distribu tion, but not the money subscribed to be spent in a feast. Let us hope that the provinces will take a lesson from our blunder. In spite of cloudy and showery weather, harvest operations have progressed favorably, and there is every prospect of a heavy crop being gathered in excellent condition. With plenty at home and peace abroad, and the arrival of large supplies of foreign grain, we might expect prices to rapidly run down. Yet they are at present well main tained, nor, from the general advance which has taken place all over the world, does there seem the slightest prospect that they will recede to the low rates of five or six years back. The increased production of gold has, so far as we are in a position to judge, raised the relative value of other products of industry, and as the produce of the mines in Aus tralia is increasing in a remarkable manner, there is a strong proba bility that the tendency of prices will still be rather to rise than fall. Thus far the conjecture we hazarded a year back, that the high rates of agricultural produce might be referred to other causes than the war, has been justified by the result. " THE SAILOR'S TEAR." (Which probably originated the less known ballad entitled " The Soldier's Tear.") Upon the quays he turned To take a last mad look At the bloekships and the batteries And the forts he hadn't took; He paused to think how once He cried " Cronstadt or— !" well, The sailor swore and turned away, For he heard the packet-bell. Beside that British Salt A Duke walked down the quays, He wore an Admiral's snowy plume That fluttered in the breeze ; He uttered Russian chaff That sailor did not hear, But counted up the batteries And swore and left the pier. A DIALOGUE AT MOSCOW. Count de MORNY (entering the apart►nent of Lord Granville).—Do I disturb you, my dear Lord Granville ? No ? And does my cigarette disturb you? No? Then we can have a little quarter of an hour of chat before going to that eternal blockhead my dear friend the Master of Ceremonies. He has already arranged my servants in nine dif ferent ways for the procession. To-day I have good hope he will have discovered that they ought to stand upon their heads. Lord GRANVI LLE.—The Emperor thinks of nothing else, I am told, but the details of the coronation. COUNT.-Eh? Well, he thinks of them a good deal, no doubt— sends to his amiable wife in the middle of the night to counsel a change in the rosettes of her carriage horses, and ties on the crown every morning. But he thinks of some other things too, my dear iranville. THE PRESS. Lord G.—l wonder what he thinks of Charley Napier's visit. COUNT.—You English are courageous—quiz retuperavit !—what needed you to prove it by making that piece of ridicule for the world? Lord G.—Who could help it, if the old ass chose to come? We can't lock a man up, or send him to Algiers, my dear Count. Besides, what does it matter? COUNT.—That's true. By the way, why does not dear Lord Aberdeen come to the show ? He has a right to see it, for he made the war that vacated the Throne of Russia for this excellent Alexander. 4.- softl6 .• 829 Lord G.—Excuse me, but that is entirely a mistake, arising from your pardonable want of acquaintance with English politics. The war was made by our Conservative party. CousT.—Come, that is news to me. Ido not profess to read your doleful debates very closely, but my memory reminds me that there were many Conservative protests that the war was unnecessary. Lord G.—lt is all a question of dates. They wanted Aberdeen to interfere prematurely, declaring that if he did so, Russia would take the hint. He would not, and then they compelled him to go with the people, alleging that it was necessary to maintain the national honour. But what is the use of going back to these old subjects—we are here to crown A lexander. COUNT.—StiII I think old Aberdeen ought to have been here. Lord G.—Confound it, how pertinacious you are ! Would you have had him here, instead of me ? COUNT.—I am incapable of rudeness. But I think it would have been a graceful intimation that the war had been au unpleasant duty. Lord G.—lt was not unpleasant at all. It made us popular, and threw a great many good things in our way. COUNT.—Your vision, my dear Granville, is limited, at times. I spoke of the general policy of your Government, not of an accident to individuals. You wish to conciliate Russia, so you sutler the monkey tricks of that old Admiral, and you send a man whom, of course, I adore to excess, but who is not perhaps the type of a very distinct individuality. Lord G.—Who is nobody, you mean, and you mean me. COUNT.—Sometimes, my dear Granville, your apprehension is pre ternatural. Lord G. (laughing).—ln the first place, you bed—d. In the next, my opinion is, and I say it without egotism, that a more compli mentary selection than myself could not have been made, or one that was better calculated to please the Emperor. COUNT.—You don't want me to compliment vou on your respect ability, or your good nature, or your blue coach, or her ladyship's diamonds, but to come to the point. And therefore, my dear Gran ville, who and what the deuce are you ? Why, you are a Buckhound. Lord G.—Not now, sir. lam President of the Council. Also I have the confidence of the great Whig party in England—did not the Duke of Devonshire entrust Lady Glanville with no end of his jewel lery ? I'll show it you, if you like. COUNT.—But the great Whig party, as represented by the little Whig leader, opened its mouth furiously against Russia, and declared that her power ought to be limited. Lord G.—But your memory, which is so good, should remind you that the same Whig leader retracted his words in the House, and showed the sincerity of his retractation at Vienna. I tell you, Count, you don't understand English politics. The Whigs are what, for the sake of argument, we'll call au oligarchy. You never need be afraid that a party of that character will interfere offensively in European politics. We have neither the Crown nor the people with us, there fore our instinct, to say nothing of higher considerations— COUNT.—Which is just what you ought to say. Lord G.—Be quiet—our instinct, I repeat, prevents our being aggressive. _ _ COUNT.—You have proved to me very clearly that Whigs are weak, timid, and unpopular, and I own myself convinced by your logic. But this does not show why a Whig should have been selected to compli ment the Emperor. Lord G.—My dear fellow, who else could have been sent? COUST.—Ah. now wo come to the exhaustive process. Lord G.—No ; but look. It was indispensable to send a Minister, and a nobleman. Look at the list. Lansdowne is too old. COUNT.—And Argyll too young. Lord G.—Young prig—he would have rearranged the procession, rewritten the coronation service, and reset all the Crown jewels. Well, we couldn't very well send the Lord Chancellor—he wasn't born noble. CouNr.—lnfamous Plebeian ! But there was, what d'ye call him —Vox—Vox. Lord G.—Brougham? He isn't with us. COUNT.—He ! No. Too big for you, my dear. No, I mean Pan Maule. Lord G.—Panmure ! War Secretary. COUNT.—Just so—and a better friend Russia could not have had. Lord G.—That's hard upon him. I think he did his best, be that what it might. But he is not the man for such work as this. You want a man of rank, wealth, affable manners, a good French accent, a gracious demeanour, an hereditary name, moderate principles, and an unexceptionable character. COUNT —And his name should begin with G. Lord G.—You may say what you like, my dear Count, but you cannot put me out of conceit with myself, or make me think that a better man could have been chosen for the office I have the honour to fill. COUNT.—Heaven forbid I should try ! I think that the nation that could send Napier and you as its representatives ought to be proud. - Lord G.—Napier be hanged—will you come and have some maraschino? COUNT.—Thanks—for private reasons I prefer eau d'or—Pactolus in bottle. Lord G.—Ah ! and they say you have bottled it extensively. Is it so COUNT.—Words are comparative, but I dare say I shall be able to buy my chocolate in my oid age, my dear Buckhound. Come. r Exeunt. ,