The Sun. — London, England, 1829-08-11 00:00:00

submission to the Chambers from 40 ro no as used to b e th e case in 1815 ; years of age) —let him put an end to that childish strugg,le between the Ministers and the Hots' is to the right of being consulted upon the great interests o f the state, and being made acquainted with the official transactions of the Governront ;—let him at the same time endeavour to develop gra dually the influence of the French Peerage, open ing it to wealth, talent, and public services, and we may yet anticipate for this Minister some teal glory, in assuring to his country the consolida tion .or her constitution, and preserving peace and tranquillity throughout &trope, in checking that Power which threatens its equilibrium. We have been led into these remarks, which may appear premature nt presumptuous ; but we believe our peculiar impartial situation enables us to say much which the spirit of party prevents even the most moderate from expressing through the re gular organs of the French press.— Times. It has been pretty obvious for some time to all attentive observers of the course of events in France, that a change of Ministry was inevitable. The change, which most persons of any discern= merit were prepared for, has taken places A sort of manifesto has been issued by the new Mi nistry, which our readers will find in another column, under the head of " Change of the French Ministry."—We are not sufficiently ac quainted with the state of France to he able to say whether the policy unfolded in this manifesto is one which is likely to be attended with suc cess. All that we can say is, that the views of the party are well expressed, a circumstance no way surprising, as the French excel in clearness and arrangement, and are much better logicians than the writers of this country, But a sys tematic exposition of the doctrines of a party may be very logical, and yet the doctrines them selves may not be suited to the people to be governed. Much in such a case depends on the manner in which the population and property of a country are distributed. France, England, and the United States of America, for instance, in these respects, differ greatly from each other ; and the same Government could hardly, there fore, have a chance of permanency with all the three. The complaint against the late Mi nistry is, that " it sacrificed the Royal Pre rogative instead of defending it, and it seemed to be occupied in seeking to learn what was the wish of the Chambers, instead of guid ing the Chambers—a course consistent with the Royal will." Here we come at once to the knotty point in constitutional politics ; seeking to learn what was the wish of the Chambers, in tead of guiding the Chambers ! It is truly said that this is the principle of the United States ; that all power is derived from the people—" a principle that cannot be admitted in France, where there exists a representative Government, of which Monarc hy is as it were the commence ment, the middle, and the end." Again, the principle of Parliamentary Supremacy and Mo narchy are incompatible. " Others, says the writer, taking from another country (England) its absolute aristocratical principles, wish to impart among us the omnipotence of Parliament and the Ministerial domination." In the United States the people guide the rulers ; in England the aristocracy guide the rulers ; but in France the Monarch must guide the Chambers. In riding, the man ought to be able to guide the ass ; but it sometimes happens the will of the man yields to the will of the ass. What if the Chambers will not be guided ? If the Royal will and the will of those who return Members to the Chamber of Deputies happen to coincide, the Deputies may allow themselves to be guided ; but if there be a collision, the weakest, as in all such cases, must go to the wall. It is pretty obvious that in France there are no materials for an aristocracy in the English sense. The Revolution did its work too well for that. Admitting, therefore, with the French writer, that there can be only one supreme power in a country, it does not fol low that the Monarch possesses that power. The Monarch cannot purchase all the copies of the newspapers sold. The newspapers will pub- lish—not what is likely to please the Monarch, but what is likely to please their readers ; and if the Monarch attempt measures disagreeable to the people, the Journalists will, from a very in telligible motive, espouse the side of the latter. Journalists may be mistaken—they may state that which is not true, and they may draw wrong conclusions from correct premises. But they live and move only in accordance with public opinion. So much is this the case, that no doctrines can ever be deemed reputable in a country in which the Press is free, till a number of people entertain them sufficient to support a Journal. We do not, therefore, very well un derstand the meaning of the tirade against " Jour nalism ; and the observation, that it i s time that the Royal power should disperse the clouds which obscure public opinion, and that the Royal will, over again manifested to France, should appear like the rays of the sun amidst the storm raised by licentiousness." If it be meant that the newspapers are the clouds which obscure public opinion, and that the Royal will should disperse the newspapers, in or der to guard against " intellectual anarchy," the experiment may be attended with difficulty. The French are anxious to make every thing clear to themselves. They see the absurdity of the doc trine of balances of powers in Government— they know that when two men ride one horse, one must ride foremost—that there cannot be balanced powers. But it is one thing to see the inconsistency of a theory of Government, and another to organize a durable Government. The English, who do not well know what sort of Government they live under, still rub on, and, notwithstanding the confident predictions of Re formers, will probably rub on for some time. Before the Revolution of 1688 the English Go vernment writers generally advocated the views of the French Manifesto. They were logically correct, but unfortunately Parliament did not choose to be guided, and the supremacy of Parliament was finally established. Since that time the King has become a part only of the supreme power. He has no power to do any thing of himself, but, without his in terference, the Aristocracy would fall by the ears, and he has, therefore, more power than a mere President of the Aristocracy—that of selecting the members of the Aristocracy who shall wield the Government when they cannot agree among themselves on this point. If the King were to name Ministers not acceptable to the Aris tocracy as a body, the consequence would be, that a majority could not be obtained. All collision of this kind is generally avoided by secret negociations with the leading men in in fluence with the body, so that when Parliament meets, there is no uncertainty as to the movement. Parliament guides itself, or rather Parliament and Ministers are one. W e can un d erstand why the Prussian Government should be stable, be cause there is the same unity of principle in it that there is in the Government of England and America. In America, the will of the people determines the public men; in England, the will of the Aristocracy pretaib. In t'russia, the will of the Mon'rbh ; who, of course, for his own ease. ttn'ci security, interferes as little personally as pos sible ; but governs through regular 1.30.rqt,. So long as the peorile remaln i - ,.rsuaded that a Governine!...t is conducted in the way that they vvotad wish it to be conducted, if they had a choice, there is little danger. In the Mani festo of the French Ministry, it is observed ; that " Revolutions are never at an end until the timate party feels that it reigns; no interests are secure, if it be alarmed for its owil. Now it is only by the certainty ; by the confidence which it has of its victory, that its interests can obtain perfect security. But a Representative body, chosen by the Democracy (for there is no Aris tocracy in Franee), may not be disposed to allow w the Ministry of the Monarch this perfect se curity. In our extracts from the Moniteur and other Papers, the constitution of the ire* Mi nistry will be seen; It Ia hinted, we see, that the new Ministry arid the English Ministry will be Oh the best terms. The French Three per Cents. fell three francs, which would seem to indicate apprehension as to the durability of the Administration. One change In principle at least is goodthat of naming a Layman to the Ministry of Ecclesiastical Affairs. A Priest is necessarily the slave of the rules to which his order have bound themselves.; and he is not a free agent where matters relating to that order are concerned. Priests ought, therefore, to be carefully excluded from all State matters, and confined to the duties which the State appoints them to discharge.—. Morning Chronicle. We alluded, the other day, somewhat freely, but as we thought was due, to a certain prose author called the " Gazette Writer." It is due, in justice to the banished Muses, that we should, in their turn, inquire of what use a certain poetic author is, yclept " The Poet Laureate." It is an age since his numbers, as such, have struck upon the public ear. We have heard of "No song no supper ;" and surely, if the Laureate has nothing left to write about, if his quantum meruit is at an end, is it but fit that his salary and his butt of sack should cease also to be provided for from the public coffers ? We are free to confess that the Birth-day Odes of the last reign were relics of an age long since gone by, and are much more honoured in the breach than the observance. But if a man has lain down his carriage, why should he continue to pay wages to a coachman, more especially if he happen to be a man who never was employed as such ? And if the Kings of England have ceased to keep a Fool, why should they continue to pay a Poet ? It is to be hoped that we, who live both by poetry and prose, shall not be set down as enemies to literature. We are only ene mies to its abuse. We think it as much an abuse to pay a Poet Laureate for writing no thing, as it would be to pay a Chancellor of the Exchequer who had nothing to do with the finances. We are far from thinking that litera ture is too much encouraged at head quarters ; but, on the contrary, being so little encouraged, we do not see why the very little encouragement which it receives might not be conveyed through a useful rather than through a useless channel. Why, for instance, might not the Poet Laureate be turned into a prose writer, and be made a kind of public annalist ? Nothing is more want ing than authentic materials for history. At present many of those materials are either with. held, or never see the light till their interest, if not their utility, has vanished ; whereas, if it ‘1 ere the duty of some person to collect them into an authentic form, they would be an imperishable record and analysis of events, which time, for want of such a record, now buries in doubt or obscurity. We throw this out as a hint, which we conceive might be improved upon. At any rate, the farce of paying a poet where ♦irtually no poet exists, is a slander upon the Muses and upon common sense.—Morning Herald. We have received from Paris the important in telligence of a total change in the French Mi nistry—a change which we consider to be of the most happy description, and upon which there fore we cannot refrain from congratulating not only the people of France, but those of Great Britain and of every other honourable State in Europe. The Prince de Polignac is placed at the head of affairs, and from the perfect coinci dence of political sentiment between his High ness and the illustrious Personage at the head of the British Ministry, we fondly augur the most auspicious results to the general interests of mankind. The following is a list of the new Ministry of France : Prince de Polignac—Minister for Foreign Affairs. Monsieur de la Bourdonnaye—Minister of the Inte►ior. Admiral de Rigny—Minister of Marine. Count de Chabrol—Minister of Finance. General Bourmont—Minister at War. M. Courvoisier—Minister of Justice. The offices of the Ministry of Commerce, Public Instruction, and Religion, are united with the Mi nistry of the Interier, by which a considerable di minution of expense will be effected. M. de Portalis is to be First President of the Court of Cessation. —Thus has intelligence of great importance, of various kinds, and from different parts of the world, at once poured upon us in unusual abundance. The total and happy change in the Administration of France, the passage of the Balkan accomplished, or almost accomplished, by powerful bodies of the Russian troops, and the peremptory refusal of the Grand Seignior to listen to any humiliating terms of accommoda tion, notwithstanding the danger which now seems to approach him so nearly—are events of which the information has reached us within the space of twenty-four hours. Having received these articles of news as it were all together, we are tempted, in the few observations we now propose to make, to consider them conjointly ; and indeed this combination, although it be ac cident which suggests it, will not we think be disavowed by deliberate reflection. The inci dents appear to us to bear reciprocally upon each other, and to be chiefly important when viewed in the aspects in which their combined or reciprocal influence is most conspicuous and powerful. The change of the French Adminis tration is of importance to Europe, prin cipally on account of the effect it may be expected to produce in the foreign policy of France ; and the affairs of the East are at this moment tne subject to which the atten tion and the efforts of every great European Power must of necessity, and to the temporary exclusion almost of every other consideration, be directed. It cannot have escaped attention that the Journals devoted to the liberal party—to the party rather which calls itself liberal from vanity, and is so called by the rest of the world in de rision—have been strenuously exerting them . selves of late to convince the people of France that the interests of their country and the gene ral cause of liberty and civilization among man t kind are likely to be promoted by the complete success of the Russian arms, and the final ex tinction of tilt. Ottothan power. This has been the leading doctrine of the French Liberals; and as several individuals connected witli the party, and supported by its influence, held high office in the Admininistration now happily defunct, the earnestness with which this extravagance has recently been inahitained rriav, it seems reason i able to tOnclUde, have been intended either to strengthen them in the continued possession of power, or to prepare the grounds of an opposition to the anticipated policy of their sitceeBsors, in which they are expected to take the lead. For this and other reasons there seems little reason to doubt that the new Admi nistration of France will be very decidedly op posed to the overthrow of the Ottothan Power, and the aggrandizement of Russia ; and that in this respect the policy of France will be more zealously and firmly combined with that of Eng land than it could ever have been, so long as the late Administration remained in power. It appears probable also, when we consider the ma terials of which the French Chambers are at present composed, and the temper manifested by the electoral bodies upon all recent occasions, that the Tory Ministry of France will be fully aware of the danger to them of a dilatory or compromising policy, and of the necessity of at tempting whatever they desire to effect by vi gorous counsels and combinations the most prompt and decisive. The circumstances in which this Administration is formed impose upon it, as the essential condition of its continued existence, the necessity of producing results con formable to French interests, and at the same time conspicuous and brilliant in the eyes of the world. Nothing short of this will prevent Liberalism from resuming its sway. The deter mination of the Grand Seignior to refuse all con cession does not excite our surprise ; nor do we think it probable that the approach of the Rus sian armies to the heart of his dominions will in the least shake his resolution. He relies upon effective assistance at the hour of need, and in all probability he will not be disappointed. The downfall of his empire is repugnant to the inte rests and the wishes of England and France, and is acknowledged to be so by both these Powers. The Turkish Emperor is ignorant neither of the temper nor the interests of these great nations, and he is accordingly firm in the belief that they will not endure the odium and the disgrace of having first co-operated in a series of measures, and then having tamely permitted another Power, which tempted them to this co-opera tion, to over-rule the whole proceedings of the confederacy to a result most derogatory to their honour and injurious to their welfare. In this degraded position the Sultan knows that France and England will be left, if the projects of Rus sian ambition should eventually be accomplished, and in this well-founded persuasion he feels conscious that he is secure. But if France or England are to interpose for the protection of Turkey, it may he said is it not already time, now that the latter has shown herself inca pable of defending the formidable barrier of the Balkan ? We would answer this question by another—ls it quite certain that the Turks could not have . resisted the passage of the Russian di visions ? Perhaps not effectally, in the end ; but was there any necessity, in a military point of view, to allow them an unobstructed passage ? The Russians would have us believe that their easy and bloodless progress results from the con summate skill of their military combinations, and that they have stolen a march upon their enemy. This cannot be believed, unless we reverse the opinion which the history of the war, and all the proceedings, political and military, of the Turks for a considerable period has led us to form of that extraordinary Government. Is it not at least equally probable that the Turkish Government is desirous of accelerating a crisis, in which the Great Powers of Europe will be compelled to adopt a decisive line of policy ? Is it impossible that this Government foresees or imagines a state of affairs, in which it would be conducive to her permanent welfare, or which in her view must be the same thing, to the injury of her assailant, to have the range of the Balkan interposed between a considerable body of Rus sian troops and the reinforcements and supplies which they may require.—Morning Post. The hardship sustained by poor Hall, who had been arrested and thrown into prison for an alleged forfeiture of his recognizance, although he convicted the party whom he bound himself to prosecute, we have heard has been noticed in the proper quarter, and, it is said, that the Act passed a few Sessions ago relating to recagni zances will be amended. As the law now stands, persons who bind themselves to prosecute offenders, are so limited to time for the with drawal of their recognizances, and the crowd of individuals is so great who rush to the office to withdraw them, at the end of the Old Bailey and Clerkenwell Sessions, that in endeavouring to obtain admission, the weakest must go to the wall, and several do not succeed in their object. The arrest of Hall for an alleged debt due to the King, who had fulfilled the terms of his re cognizance to the utmost, is not a solitary instance of similar hardship, and the con sequence is, that many individuals, rather than subject themselves to the incon venience of the provisions of this faulty and de fective Act, suffer notorious delinquents to escape rather than bind themselves to prosecute. Thus it is that several notorious offenders are permitted to go at large, and the public suffer — for it is surely monstrous, that a person who considers himself as having fulfilled his obliga tion, should be liable to be arrested by a bailiff, and exposed, when, in fact, he had incurred no debt, but had performed a public duty as a good citizen. Persons in the situation of Mr. Hall ought not to be suddenly pounced upon by a bailiff, and assailed afterwards by individuals de manding fees to which they are not entitled. A proceeding so gross, unjust, and unconstitu tional, cannot be surpassed, and it must have been a great oversight in the Legislature to pass an Act fraught with such temptations to hard ship and oppression, and which is so very inju rious to the public interest.—Morning Ad vertiser. Lady MORGAN is in error, in her " Book of the Boudoir," when she states the " Old Duchess of NORTH UMBERLA ND" to be the last who appeared in Eng land with a " running footman." The father of the late Earl of PEMBROKE, likewise the late Duke of GLoucEs- TER, to the end of their lives retained this custom. On Saturday last, an enormous rat was ob served to he in the act of running away with a chicken on the premises of a gentleman near this town, when a pursuit took place, and it was at last killed. Its immense size induced the persons who caught it to ascertain its weight, which was found to be two pounds and a half ! Stockport Advertiser. SUMMER ASSIZES. NORFOLK CIRCUIT-BURY ST. EDMUND'S, AucvsT 10. William Iptckle, aged 19, was indicted for that he, on the 9th day of June last, at the parish of Ashfield Magno, in this county, feloniously assaulted one Leah Warren, and cut her throat with a knife, with intent to kill and murder her. The prisoner was attired in a blue surtout. He is what is called " a pretty fellow," with light hair, small and regular features, and rosy cheeks. The female whom he was charged with attempt ing to murder is a pretty interesting girl, about is years of age, and was attired in a very becoming Manner: ..... The interest excited by the trial was prodigious, and the Court at an early hour was crowded. It is remarkable that this county produces more murders of an extraordinary kind than all the other counties in England. Mr. MALTBY, the Counsel for the prosecution, said that it Was his duty to bring before the Court and Jury the facts of this most painful and distress ing case. The prisoner was charged with attempt ing to murder a young woman of the name of Leah Warren, the daughter of a builder and bricklayer, residing at Badwell Ash, in that county. The pri soner was in the employment of the father of the girl, and paid his addresses to her. Previous to Michaelmas last, she was persuaded by some of her relatives to discontinue his addresses. He was ex ceedingly distressed at this determination on her part; and having seen the young woman with, an other young man, some few days afterwards, he was driven to a state of distraction, and attempted to put an end to his existence by hanging himself. On the 7th ofJune last, the prisoner saw the young woman at her father's house, and he proposed to renew his addresses to her. She declined; and on the 9th of June he saw her walking with a young man named Eli Hunt. It was at that moment, in all proba bility, that he first contemplated the commission of the crime that had brought him to the bar where he was standing. On the same night he met the young woman, and asked her to go with him to a place three miles off; and when she declined, he re quested her to go into a field close by, in which there was a pond. She refused to go with him, and he seized her by the head, pulled her bonnet-strings tight under her throat, threw her down upon her back, and cut her throat with a knife. Leah Warren examined by Mr. MALTBY—I live at Badwell, and am the daughter of a bricklayer. I have known the prisoner quite well for two years and a half. He worked for my father.— He paid his addresses to me till up to three weeks before last Michaelmas. My friends then objected to his addresses, and advised me to discontinue them, which I told him, and we d:d dis continue. I was at service at the time. I returned home near Whitsuntide. On Sunday, the 7th of June, I was at hotne, and saw the prisoner. He de sired to renew his addresses. He asked me "if I was going to Walsham ?" I said " Yes;" and he said "he would walk with me, if I had no objec tion." I said " I had none," and we went toge ther. In the afternoon I had been crying; he came in and asked me " what was the matter with me ?" I said " my sister and brother had been taking me to do for going with him in the morning." lie said tc if they have any thing to say, why not say it t o me ? I would rather they should than to you."— He said he would rather lose every drop of blood he had than to see a hair of my head wronged. He said lie would leave my father, and I persuaded him riot, and he said he should not be comfortable any more, if he thought it would riot be agreeable to the family; they had always given him hints about it. I said I was going to Walsham to meet my sister. He said he wished I should not go; he would rather go himself, and if my brother and sis ter had any thing to say, he had rather they should say it to him. Ely Hunt, a young man, then came in to the door, and asked me if I was going to meet my sister ? I said no. The prisoner was then gone forward. I went with Hunt and one of my other sisters to meet my sister. The prisoner saw me with Hunt, and said tome, " So you would come? I'll go forward." He did so, and I followed him. After meeting on the Sunday, I saw him again be tween six and seven. We were both at the meeting Service. He did not board and lodge at my father's. That night I slept at my uncle's, at Ashfield, half a mile from my father's. I went with my father and sisters across the fields thither. I saw the prisoner at Ashfield after they left me, about nine o'clock. He came past my uncle's when I was in the yard. I did not expect him. He called me, and I went to him. He asked me whether I would go on the Tuesday evening to Backton ? It was getting dusk. I raid 1 would, and made an engagement with him to go. I said my sisters and brother would go on the Monday night, and I should have to go with them. It was a sort of fair at Backton on the Tuesday. He still said lie wished I would go with him. About half-past five on the Monday morning I again saw him on my return from my uncle's. He knew on the Sunday night I should walk home at that hour, and he agreed to walk with me. He came into my uncle's yard before I was down. He went nearly half way home. He said then he hoped I would go on the Tuesday evening with him, and I said I would. He said he thought I was old enough to please myself. About an hour after that he came to my father's house, and stopped near two hours. I went down to Badwell, arid he followed me, and I met him as I was coming back. I had asked him, " If he was coming that way ?" arid he said " Yes ;" and I asked him to meet me. I was with him all the Monday morning till half past twelve. We walked all the morning by Daisy green. My family did not know of it. Our con versation was about ourselves, and he hoped I should he united to him. I wished to be united to him if could get my friends' consent. I was much at tached to him, and I said, " I would one time or another marry him." I am certain that he is attached to me, arid always was, and I am to him fervently—devotedly. (The witness was here greatly affected, burst into a flood of tears, and fainted, and it was some time before she could again be composed. Her distress excited the greatest possible sympathy, as many a tearful eye testified. Mr. Baron GARROW—What do Yon say young woman ? Witness (weeping)—l said that lam sure he loves me. (This avowal produced an ex traordinary expression in the Court in favour of the prisoner, in which the Jury actually joined.) Mr. MALTBY rose, and said, that after the painful scene of which they had all been witnesses, he, as Counsel for the prosecution, and after having con sulted his client and the fath er o f t h e poor g i r l w h o lately stood in the witness box, felt that public jus tice had been satisfied, and the ends of investigation answered by the examination which had already taken place into the circumstances of this most dis. tressing case. The father of the young woman, see ing that his daughter was still, with all the con stancy of a woman's affection, attached to the pri soner, had consented to their union ; and, on behalf of the prosecutor, be, with th e sanct i on o f hi s Lord ship, would decline offering any further evidence. Mr. GUNNING said, th at as C ounse l f or t h e pri soner lie might perhaps be allowed to express his own and the prisoner's most grateful sense of the kind ness which had prompted his Learned Friend, and the mercy which had been shown by those who had instituted this inquiry. The proceedings of this day would . be long reme m b ere d b y a ll now present, an d he pr s e : i v, r ioa e md , a%evnsoc‘u%a,l escaped, d b oa t uT h i lt e di last en rpt returnel y r s b o r e i wtto forget ryas nt eh orge u e l i e t dangerowt a l i s e ll the partner—he hoped th e h appy partner — o f hi s lif e ; and, if his client would attend to his advice, he would most. earnestly entreat him to devote the remainder of his life to the promotion of her hap piness, and prove, by unwearied affection, that he was not the only pers on w h o h a d not pro fi te d b y this most painful scene. Mr. Baron GARaow, who was very much af fected, then addressed the Jury. The scene of this day had been the most distressing which, in the course of his judicial experience, he had witnessed ; ' and the countenances of the Jury full well assured him that they were not insensible to the painful spectacle. He (the Learned Baron) should not be the person to be least thankful at the termination of this singular case; for if their verdict had been un favourable to the prisoner, his duty would have left him no alternative. He sat there to assist in the satisfactory and impartial - administration of justice; and if the Jury had returned a verdict of condem nation, the sentence of the law must have taken its course. They had, on one side, a young man, whose countenance had less of ferocity or cruelty in it than that of any person he had ever before seen standing in his most perilous situation ; on the other side, was this young woman, giving her evidence fairly, not allowing the feelings of her strong affection to influence her testimony. But for the interposition of friends, these two young persons would ere this have been united in the closest and tenderest al liance in life. Perhaps the interposition was thought ful and kind, and intended to prevent the ill conse quences of too hasty and precipitate a union between them. She was still affectionately attached to him, and he returned her affection with equal truth and sincerity. The scene of this day would teach him, if any thing could, the debt of love and gratitude which he owed to her, and he hoped the retnaider of their lives would be passed in amity and happi ness. The Jury, in the absence of evidence affect ing the prisoner, would say that he was not guilty; and he requested that no indecent manifestation of public feeling might be exhibited. The prisoner was then acquitted; and the young woman, clasping her hands and smiling pleasure and gratitude through her tears, fell into the arms of a person near her in a swoon. This unparalleled scene produced, as may be readily conceived, the most powerful sensation throughout the crowded Court. GERMAN PAPERS. The following transcript of the correspondence between the Grand Vizier and General Diebitsch appears in the Allgemeine Zeitung of the 2d August : CONSTANTINOPLE, JuLT 16.-- The Comnsander-in- Chief of the Russian army has written to the Grand Vizier the following letter, dated from the Camp at Madera, 2d (14th) June : " As God, who in his might disposes of the fate of arms, bas been phased to grant to me the victory, it is my duty, in grateful acknowledgment of this heavenly benefit, to embrace every opportunity to manifest the pacific sen timents which animate his Majesty the Emperor, my august master, and in conformity with his Majesty's com mands, and the powers intrusted to me, to offer to your Excellency the means to put an end to the evils of wnr, and restore to the nations concerned peace and tranquil lity. For this beneficent object I have resolved to address to you the present letter. M. Fonton, Councillor of State, who is the bearer of it, possesses my entire confidence, and knows my sentiments, and he is authorised by me to enter into further explanations with your Excellency, if your sen timents should correspond with mine. I beg you entirely to open yourself to him, and if God blesses our endeavours, we may both congratulate ourselves on being employed as the instruments of a holy enterprise which may gain us the blessings of so many millions of people. The noble character of your Excellency, which has so justly acquired you the esteem and confidence of the Sultan, will undoubt edly manifest itself on this occasion. I take pleasure in expressing this sentiment with entire conviction, and em brace this opportunity to assure your Excellency of my entire esteem." The answer of the Grand Vizier to the Russian Com mander-in-Chief, dated 3d (15t1t) June, is to the following effect : " I have read the contents of tire letter which you have addressed to me, and in which you inform me that in conse quence of the sincere desire of his Majesty, the Emperor, to restore peace, and put an end to the state of war and hostility which has lately arisen between the two nations, your Excellency is provided with full powers to conclude peace, and that with this view you have sent the Coun cillor of State, Fonton, who enjoys your entire confidence, to enter into explanations with me. You add, that in the battle which has taken place, victory was on youLside. As victory or defeat are at all times events which depend on the Divine Will, there is no doubt that it is beyond the power of man ,to make any change in time, and in the battles which took place, first at the Dewno, and after wards on the return from Pravadi, and at the defile of Kulertscha, the result of the engagement and the victory is manifest to the eyes of both parties; and as the loss which was afterwards caused by the explosion of the powder waggons can only be ascribed to an accident brought about by the will of Heaven, it is entirely con formable to the order of things, and to the decrees of Pro vidence, to be prepared at one time for victory, at another for defeat. In every ease peace restores the comfort and prosperity of the country, and the tranquillity of the poor inhabitants, while a state of warfare produces only bloodshed, and robs the subjects of their quiet. If, therefore, you are inclined to conclude peace in a manner advantageous to both em pires, it would he contrary to justice and integrity if we, on our part, declined to agree to it, and the more so, as this would only spread the flames of war. I must observe, however, that as I have long been Commander-in• Chief and Governor of Rumelia, and was wholly occupied in that country with military affairs, I am not acquainted with the state of things, and it would therefore be good to send M. Fonton hither, or to fix a day on which he may confer with our Commissioners. By this means it will be pos sible to learn the basis on which this beneficent work is to be carried on, and to prepare the measures which may be subsequently necessary." CONSTANTINOPLE, JULY 11.—(FAOM A LETTER.) — All the measures of the Porte indicate a continuation of the sanguinary struggle. A remarkable firman has been sent to all the provinces, calling upon all the faithful, who are able to bear arms, to repair immediately to the army. Meantime, a report is generally spread in the capital, that in case the Russians should advance to Adrianople, a part of the English fleet will pass the Dardanelles to protect the capital. This news is announced with great confidence, and h is added that firmans for the entrance of English men-of-war have already been delivered to the English ; a statement which meets with the more credit, because the English men-of-war which accompanied Sir R. Gordan hither, having been provided with pilots for the navigation of the Black Sea, have gone to Tarapia. The Divan is said to have declared that Europe had more need of the Porte than the Porte had of Europe, and that the latter was in a manner under an obligation to it for having ventured to maintain a struggle with so colossal an enemy. LOVE AT ONE GLIMPSE. Some years ago there used to be pointed out, upon the streets of Glasgow, a man whose intel lects had been unsettled upon a very strange ac count. When a youth, he had happened to pass a lady on a crowded thoroughfare—a lady whose extreme beauty, though dimmed by the in tervention of a veil, and seen but for a mo ment, made ax indelible impression upon his mind. This lovely vision shot rapidly past him, and was in an instant lost amidst the common place crowd through which it moved. He was so confounded by the tumult of his feel ings that he could not pursue, or even attempt to see it again. Yet he never afterwards for got it. With a mind full of distracting thoughts, and a heart filled alternately with gushes of pleasure and of pain, the man slowly left the spot where he had remained for some minutes as it were thunderstruck. He soon after, without being aware of what he wished, or what he was doing, found himself again at the place. He came to the very spot where he had stood when the lady passed, mused for some time about it, went to a little distance, and then came up as he had come when he met the exquisite subject of his reverie —unconsciously deluding himself with the idea 13y By-and-by, when the that this might recal her to the spot. She came not—lie felt disappointed ; he tried again—still she abstained from p assin g . He continued to he was left altogether alome. He then saw that all his fond t s r t a re v e e t rs b e ec t a h m e e pdleasceerteitdl the. efforts were vain, and he left the silent lonely street at midnight, with a soul as desolate as that ' g loomy terrace. For weeks afterwards he was never off the streets. He wandered hither and thither through pfd out the town, like a forlorn &lost. 11 1 cular, he often visited the place where he first seen the object of his abstracted th 6 lig c los e as if he considered that lie had a better ell, of seeing her there than any where else. t o frequented every place of public atnusernest he which he could purchase admission; k ind 0. made a tour of all the churches •.in the. 01 : is All was in vain. He never again placed ; as eyes upon that angelic countenance. Sh e s he ever present to his mental optics—bu t „ ti t never appeared in a tangible form. `with-as essential presence, all the world besides `1 to him as a blank—a wilderness. Madness invariably takes possession' ofale n g mind which broods over-much or over-l 0 upon the engrossing idea. So did it proven. this singular lover. He grew innocent, as thePe e t of this country tenderly phrase it. His ibsa n ,; however, was little more than mere abstrac t ' e t i,, The course of his mind was stopped at a P art' ' cular point. After this he made no further P o , re gress in any intellectual attainment. fl e quired no new ideas. His whole soul s t , c , still. He was like a clock stopped at a pSitc-it: lar hour ; with some things, too, about which, like the motionless indices of that le t chine, pointed out the date 9f the interroPti ° o As, lbr instance, he ever after wore a peculisr's long- backed and high-necked coat, as well n o neck-cloth of a particular spot, being the fas,nll.o of the year when he saw the lady. Indee d ss was a sort of living memorial of the dr e ir i,'. gait, and manners of a former day. It, was e to dent that he clung with a degree of fondness every thing which bore relation to the great is e , dent of his life. Nor could he endure s4 s thing that tended to cover up or screen from recollection that glorious yet melancholyci reu - ° ; stance. He had the same feeling of Wera ti . o ,, for that day—that circumstance—and for I l i, self, as he then existed—which caused the c o o valrous lover of former times to preserve O de , his lips, as long as he could, the imaginery of light which they had drawn from the touch his mistress's hand. he When I last saw this unfortunate personde was getting old, and seemed still more tiers' than formerly. Every female whom be 0 be the street, especially if at all good-looking'. oo , gazed at with an inquiring anxious exPres si st ill and when she had passed, he usually stood a few moments and mused, with his eyes che upon the ground. It was remarkable, tb at , e s gazed most anxiously upon women whose:lo and figures most nearly resembled that ot, er , unknown mistress at the time he had seen and that he did not appear to make allopa n e for the years which had passed since his S s , met that vision. This was part of his maa nv e , Strange power of love !—lncomprehensibl e chanism of the human heart !—Edinburgh terary Journal. LONDON MARKETS. PRICE OF BREAD. The highest price of Bread in the Metropolis is WV,' 41h. Loaf. There arc others who sell from to 1 u that price. PRICE OF SEEDS.—Aug. 10. ~ 0 1 ' New English Red Clover Seed (per Cwt.) 40s. MM. fine ''',' ...,' Old Ditto Ditto-- ..... r m. ......---- --8. —x. tine _ , _.. New Foreign Ditto sos. 60s five 655 ' 5, 656. Old Ditto . 3os. 404. fine s ° & om. New White Clover 4os. 60s. fine L'"' sl 4l, Old Ditto Ditto ..--. 60s. 70s, fine hy . ,.,,,' silh New Trefoil Old Ditto ------.. .—..—.. --s. --s. fine... , .../. Rib Grass ..--.---------.................. 16s. 295. fine - - ' 6; ...i. English Carraway Seed —B. 40s. 44u * . f.,1.-§ Foreign Ditto --. .. —s. —s. .--. 8 . 7; 20 9 " Coriander ..... —s. 14s. fine ..., •••Z 04 stf, St. Foin (per Quarter)--... —s. --a. 16s. 0 ; ' Rye Grass . 158. 404. new .0 4, Pacey Ditto Linseed, for feeding .B. 38s. fine ', 4 „ 6 Ditto, for crushing.... --s 41s 4es• -:.; 4 0 " Canary Seed, New --s: 40s: fin e — An . " 4. Ditto Old — B , ....S. •,,.• 4 ' White Mustard Seed—....(per Bushel)—....os. es. os. od. "" Brown Ditto -,...—.. --s. 9s. 14s. L s ‘ Vs. l'unaip Seeds, R0und5...—............ --s. —s. 10s. n" , 1 6 a' Green and Red Ditt0,....,,...... —s. —x. 12s. fiP e ., ,04. Tares . , 0101......,..--- —s. 31 4 . 40s. fir .191. Ditto New . s. —a. fine . - r • oy. 2:1 1 . : .. ./ Rate Seed, English, fine (per Last) 301. 34[.....x. Foreign PRICES OF HOPS.—Aug. 10. 71 11. Kent Pockets - .. 0/ Os. (IL 10S. t• OS. Strsex l)itto Essex Ditto ..... 0/. Os. 61,105. to 7, 1 . 0,, Farnham Ditto, Fine.,.......—............. 01. Os. 9/. Os. to 10 6 0,, Seconds —........—.. 01. Os. '7l. 10s to I '2; Os. 5 4 51 1 1 . .. 1 0 0 ° s s s ... 51 5 51 / ... 1 1 0 8 2 s: ... t t t 0 0 0 ii i : : : 1 0 6 . 1' ' It .£38,000. __....--.'"' Kent Usgs.,.. Sussex Ditto Essex Ditto., PRICE OF POTATOES.—Aug. 10. o p. New Ware --- (1. PRICES OF LEATHER. a . to.„ Per lb. d. to d. Mitts 'ill to '6th... 10 20 0 Tanned H P or e s r e Ditto=o to 6(i1b.... 21 22 Spanish Ditto .............• ' Vi Dressing Hide 5....—,....... 14 17 Per dozen. llb• 18 i' 9 Fine Coach Hides --. 19 21 Calf Skins... 36 to 4 03 Crop Hides, 3.5 to 401 0 . 141 16 Ditto ....... 50 to 70 1 IN O i l l Ditto 45 to SOlb 16 17 Ditto 70 to 801 b. , s . Ditto lB 20i Small Seals, Greenlan ---- - lb ilides.. , 11 ; 9 RA W Per Stone. s. d. to A. d. Best Eeit,, - ri& Steers 2 8 3 0 Nliddlinglll—.--2 2 2 6 HIDES. Per Stone. s.d t°° I O r di nary I Market Calf*, 825.;./ - . - ...........-, . SHEEP SKINS. 00. 'l6 Wool Lambs,. ls. Od. to Is. 6d. WHITECH A PEL HAY MA RKET.—Aug• 13 ' 050.' . . 50s. Od. to 88s. Od. lover 70s. Od. to I 4th). Od. to 44g. Od. Hay COAL MAR} Bede's 268.6 d. Boundary M00r—...-- 24 9 Killingworth 28 0 Pontop Windsor 25 0 Tanfield Tanfield Lea 27 6 Wylam 28 0 Walls End Bell and Co. 27 9 WallsEndßewicke&Co. 30 0 Ditto Brown's unser...—. 27 0 Ditto Carr and Co. 26 0 Ditto Hilda Ditto Hotspur 27 3 Ditto Northumberland 27 3 Ditto Peareth 25 6 Ditto Perkins and Co.— 27 6 Ditto 29 0 -Ditto Walket 28 9 Ships at market, 611,4--6/11 £T.—Aug. 10. 0. 61 Walls End Newmarch. Lambton's Primrose .0 '1".7 Neskam Walls End H so f; Walls End Stewart's 0. .a "lE. , - Russell's Hetton's 6 9 Blackboy Main 9.1 0 Cowpen _ Lan shipping Hartley u , Silkstone Field and CO. sa ( 0 1 Walls End Elgin •••"""' 33 6 Warde's Llanelly e s • Pontop Trader Adair's Trader Londonderry small... : 4 6 Russell's small .......•e' IPs‘°4l. 31%---Unsold, 3°' , IRISH MARKETS. -- ---- i -' ,.w Wheat, Barley. Oats. I Flour, p riel_ per barrel per barrel per barrel , 2( 1 . , 20 stone. 16 stone. 14 stone. 1 Ist. 0 01: ---,-. —.—.......... --",,.,,0. 0 0 s.d. a s.d. 5.d. a s.d. s.d. a s.d. s. d. as. d. s„. " 0. ...18 ~, Cork 21 0-33 0 7 0-10 911 0-14 020 0-23 u 0 ,...16 ii Limerick 133 4-35 0 10 6-20 0 10 4-13 0 18 0-.21 0 0 „ _I, ~ Waterford 28 0-34 0 12 0-13 0 13 0-14 0 18 0-24 I 10 n... .u'id n u 1 4 4 „s O O 2 2 0 6-- , 2 0 —2.7 ! . o° _-// - - 1 4 T '-- 0. --" Clonmel -. 30 0-31 3° °--3(11 5 0(1 11 11 1 2 t 0 to °-- 7 1196 Butter. . °0 1: 1 o 22 r k 8°.... , Per lb. per lb. per cwt. let. 2.d. Jrl. _......! ....-- • a. Carlow ---.--- d. i. 0 d. a d. d. a d. s. d. a s . d. s . d. s. d.a. I. l '% 04 1 Cork —.......... 4# —5l 4 —6 22 0 —24 066 060 055 0 ..„ 0440 v Limerick,.l 5 4 6 30 0 35'0 68 0620 56 0 3 ".. :... „ Waterford 4 —6 i i 6 20 0_77 071 068 060 0 3 .2,1 ) ) 54 v„ Clomnel ... 3 —5 4 —6.27 Carlow_ _4 —54 0 —0 0 0— 0070068 0 58 0 PRINTED and PUBLISHED by MURDO YOUNG, at ti° OFFICE, 112, STILAND, LONDON• KIIALNXY.—IIutter 70, to 71s. per cwt. ; Whea t .. : - 32 s. t° l; j' a i • per barrel ; Flour 20s. to 425. per bag; Oats Ils. to 14 , P tton rel ; Barley 16s. to 18s. ; Beef 441. to 5!,“. per lb. ; D iu j 3oo ll to sd. ; Potatoes 2d. per stone; Coals Is. 2d. per cwt.; Pigs 28s. to 295. per cwt. BIRTHS. 0 On the 9th inst., at Maize Hill, Greenwich , the laxly Stacey Grimai, Esq., of a daugter. On the Sth ld inst., at Waresley h House, Worcestershire' the lady of the Rev. Wildman Yeates, of a daughter. 0. On the Bth inst., the lady of Hannibal Sandy! , Esq., of Brompton-square, of a daughter. MARRIED. V. , On the Bth inst., at St. Pancras, Hugh Lei, --- • Halfmoon-street, to Miss Eleanor Susan Kelly, Euston square. of At St. James's Church, Henry Leman, Esq . son C. Leman, Esq., of Bristol, to Sophia, eldest dsughter °oy, Thomas Cadell, Esq., of Upper Charlotte-street, Fit° square. DIED. Ve t ' On the Bth inst., at her house in Great Coraro-5 Cecilia, wife of the late Dr. Wm. de Brodum. ~ ot' On the Bth inst., aged 78 years, Mrs. Bell , U PP e. mour-street, relict of the late John Bell, Esq. , HAre " Middlesex.