The Sun. — London, England, 1859-04-20 00:00:00

.ROYAL GENERAL THEATRICAL FUND. The fourteenth annual festival of this excellent institution was held on Monday evening at the Freemasons' Tavern, Great Queen-street. There was a very large attendance of the friends and subscribers of the charity. Covers were laid for about 200. The chair was taken by Mr. Charles Mathews, who was supported by Mr. Buckstone, Mr. Benjamin Webster, Sir Wm. Fraser, Mr. Hawkins, Q.C., &c. After the usual loyal toasts, The CHAIRMAN, in proposing " The Army and navy," said personally he knew very little of those services, having never dined at a mess table in his life, though he certainly could not say he had not been in a mess. (Laughter.) Indeed, he did not recollect ever representing a " Jolly Tar" on the stage, but at the same time he felt a parti cu l ar in terest in that service from having once got himself into the " Fleet." (Great laughter.) Those two gallant services were, however, the most earnest patrons of the drama, and the most distinguished supporters of private theatricals, and therefore he had the greatest pleasure in proposing the toast of the " Army and Navy," with which he would couple the name of Sir William Fraser* (Applause.) The toast was drunk with all the honours. Sir WILLIAM FRASER returned thanks. The CHAIRMAN then proposed the toast of the evening, " Prosperity to the Royal General Theatrical Fund," and said--Gentlemen, this toast may not be dismissed so summarily ; and I begin to feel the awful position in which I am placed. (Laughter.) I have often experienced the trepi dation of appearing for the first time in a new character, but I may safely say that I never felt any responsibility equal to that I have incurred on the present occasion, when I have not only under taken a new character for the first time, but one quite out of my line, and one which I fear is far beyond my capabilities. However, my manager, Mr. Buckstone, has insisted upon my accepting it, and I have not dared to disobey (laughter) for you are, perhaps, not aw are th at the penalty (laughter), refus ing a part amounts to no less than three weeks' loss of salary, which I really cannot afford, so here I present myself recklessly before you, and though I cannot say that I have undertaken the part "at short notice," I certainly do most earnestly solicit " your usu a l i n d ulgence. " (Applause.) The difficulties, I have to contend with are Cheers great. How ever, I am u se d to difficulties—(laughtr)—and am ever ready t o f ace them in a good caus (. They m a y b e divided, like a sermon, e. into three ) parts. I have first to persuade you that I am the proper exponent of the subject in hand; next, that being the proper person, I am able lucidly to ex plain the object we have in view ; and lastly, that I am possessed of the requisite eloquence to open your hearts, and, what is more difficult still, your purse-strings —(laughter and cheers)—that elo quence, in short, which has beenpoetically described as of force sufficient to extract a sixpence out of a gasp*. (Laughter.) I was rather puzzled at first to conceive why I should be chosen to occupy a chair, honoured as it has been hitherto by men eminent for their great public talents and no less whyracking my friend an d manager should thus have de termined on placing me in so equivocal a position— a position which I feel I am utterly unfit to hold— (no, no)—and is laying me open to the many re- marks which may naturally follow my presumption in pre sent i ng myself before you as the advocate of prudence an d economy, I have at last come to this conclusion, that he has selected me, not for the pur pose of setting me up before you as an example, but rather aas - w arning. (Laughter.) Well, w ith a ll my art. If even in that capacity I can be made serviceable to-day, I with pleasure accept the posi tion, and am ready to put my head in the pillory. (Applause.) You will, therefore, be kind enough, gentlemen, to look upon me in the light of a finger post, and allow me to point out to others that path I / have not followed myself, but which I can safely a n d conscientiously pronounce to be the right one. (Hear.) The objects and advantages of the admirable fund the interests of which we are to pro mote eare too w e ll-k nown and recognised to need any .?dvocacy of mine. Its vari ous benefits and privileges n ave been over and over again descanted upon by your excellent treasurer, who is here, true to his post, to reiterate his ob serva ti ons ; w hil e your wort h y secreto ary sit s i n calm dignity—(laughter)—loaded t the muzzle, with reports and figures respecting the state of the funds. You will be pleased to hear pat I have nothing to do with the funds. (Laughter.) am happy to say it i s a d epartment w i t h w hi c h I am not called upon to interfere, so that the only task that remains for me is to exert my powers of fascination to induce you to swell the amount of those funds, and aid the institution by a liberal contribution this evening, and not only to produce the donation from your right hand pockets, which You have already placed there according to your ssowcustom, b ut to extract that reserved fund owsrom Your left-h an d poc k ets, only provided in case ac me brilliant burst of eloquence or extra touching appeal should wrench the button from its guardian hold, and magnetise the coy cash from its stron g - dilating (Applause.) It is not by upholding a n d upon the transcendent literary merits of our national drama, nor on its instructive tendency —nor utpon their upon the excellence of its professors—nor high intellectual gifts, that I shall hope ( L n a `L a rni bi _up the pecuniary cockles of your hearts. to 1 , - 7.) It may, perhaps, be thought my duty s 'ring forward those often-urged claims to your `'"'laideration, but though I am here to do my duty, I do not think it a part of my duty to teach you beco Y our s. I ha ve too much need to learn myself to ratherme the t teacher of others. (Laughter.) It is wish t o 0 your sympathy- than to your duty that I appeal, and I am °lad of it, the task is easier ; fo r b all have obs however perverse it may be, you must boasted o bserved that while stern duty is ever . the kind s is dear, nit ~A n sPring of human action, it Y Pethy, after all, that sweetest partof quietly performs the mi ne i s a eas the work. (Applause.) Now, Coin out _ e altogether of sympathy, . and I leave of the questio There is no duty which compels piness you to contribu n ie to the comforts and hap brighter ho t s e declining days of those who, in reave added only to your amuse hasment—to sm i t h • m former the the pillow of the poor actor who of diverting years afforded you an innocent means moil of thee world, and carried you away for of rela7l. anxieties from the carking cares and and f atigued life that weighed down your spirit at the time, youframe.a Now, you paid your money the matter ' Y ° ° your money's worth, and there r end e d SO your sylnn,m, ; there your duty ended, but not of thi s 1 wa ciel, for I am happy to say, and it is tion a n d aram : r eniind you, that the mental relaxa hugs at toadents you purchase with your shil or th ' cc 'alsenttle "ta of a theatre are not like the fender man's—(laughter)3l4 purchase at the hardware and the remenibra--not like the cigar you enjoy, with its butt end , ne e ~of which you throw away in the corne r of ion have no lurking affection whose shovel or Your heart for the ironmonger exchange for your nse corkscrew you carry off in whose choice R c ash, or even for the tobacconist satisfaction, share7 annah you puff with so much friend who accept s do ugh it be with your dear You do not nudge e liberality of your cigar case. of pleasure, only e 3 t r i On,r wife or a sister with a grin celebrated phy s i c i an ec aed by your politeness, as a commissioner of wee'daan eminent b arr i s t er , or a the street s , y ou hay and Forests passes you in those still more combo congenial feelin g t owar d s joyments—your ble. caterers to your solid en monger. You_poi nt 'r u ,rs Your baker, your fish man,t is true, the great the great gen4` . the learned judge, the states reverend divine with r mixed with awe, sometimeesPec•t, with admiration, lvith love ;but it is the privilege of the favourite that friendly, indulgent, actoraffectionate alone to meet with rtf recognition that seems to proceed from a towards the person who has Soo. genial yearning kindlaced you in yo ur moments of depressi on — a gratitude for o hours of pl easure enjoyed without membered without regret. (Applaus alloy, and re nent barrister, the learned judge, the) The emi en.eral, the divine, may all, in the exercise of their upon ar s pro fessions, have trodden in some way your interests. lost you a e toes of The lawyer may ., h . ave cause —the jedge against von --she have misdirect e d • a Jury T:e y ral may have omitted your son's or brother% name in his despatches — even the very divin himself may have made you feel uncomfortt r in e Jour boots from the pulpit ; but when did ___lnv Robson—(applause) ,mislead or dear little Webster or Compton lose e ad a jury ? When did suit ? (Laughter.) Wheird ' tiP ur money in a law _. mil Bedford refuse your son promotion ? When did Wrieht or Buck. (Applause.) make you uncomfortable b y alio . _._ mily? Never. Your recollections are all without (Applause.) agree drawbacks, and your. associations able. The only feeling at all otese.s.efnstimiallillr affec tionate character is, I think, that maul esteds,_ r .. a favourite author; and how truly did Tar ashi w ugt a o ds n Irving observe, on his visits to Westminster Abbey, that notwithstanding the simplicity of th e n ioix. ments in Poets' corner, the visitors to the Abbey always remain longest about them. A kinder and fonder feeling, he remarks, takes place of that cold curiosity or vague admiration with which they gaze on the splendid monuments of the great and the heroic ! They linger about these as about the tombs of friends and companions, for indeed there is something of companionship between the author and the reader. Other men are known to posterity only through the medium of history, which is con tinually growing faint and obscure; but the inter course between the author and his fellow men is ever new, active, and . immediate. He has lived for he has sacrificed them more than for himself—he . up from the sur rounding onjoymeuts ) and shut delights of social life, that he might the more inti mately commune with distant minds and distant ages. Well may the world cherish his renown, for it has been purchased not by deeds of vio c nee and blood, but by the diligent dispensation of pleasure. ?iVeebllasmlaeyft topitosatehriitnyhbeerigtarnaeteef,unletof his m: ory names,for and sounding gems s g a h c f ti t o b n o s u , g b b u t, but whole goldenletreasur,veihofswhifsdom, b lan guage. With what pleasure and delight do we not point o u t i n our streets the mighty spirits of the literary world. The historians, the philosophers whose works we have pondered over and studied as our guides and preceptors, and still more those elegant and fanciful intellects whose lively imaginations have charmed our hours of leisure, the author of " Pelham," the author of " Vanity tragic,Fa il" the popul ar , h uman i s i ng , grap hi c , com i c , dramatic, heart-stirring, heart-soothing author of the " Pickwick Papers "—(applause)— and the many other delightful writers of our day ; but much as we love and respect them, and pleased as we are to greet them as they pass, with thanks in our hearts and pleasure in our countenances, there is not that same tickling about the short ribs —that indulgent chuckle, like to convivial acquaint anceship, around that is felt towards the favourite actor. It would be a liberty to laugh in the face of the author of " Eugene Aram," however his most comic creation might suggest itself ; even the re collection of Sam Weller would not justify us in grinning at the author of poor " Little Nelly," and as to the historian and the philosopher, we scarcely dare walk on the same pavement with them. But how have you found yourselves greeting your favou rite actor ? More like a spoiled child than as a stranger. You never spoke to him in your lives, and know nothing of him off the boards, but you find yourselves talking of him as if he were your personal friend. " There goes little Bob Keeley !" and forgetting the disagreeable business on which you were hastening to Chancery-lane, you linger for a moment to stare at his funny little back when he has passed. You talk of Ben Webster and Little Bucky as though they were relations more than mere stage-players. Of what other class of the com munity dare you speak with the same familiarity ? With all your admiration for the works of Sir E. Bulwer Lytton, would you venture to speak affec tionately of him as "Neddy Bulwer?" (Laughter.) Would you talk of " Charley Dickens ?" or " Billy Thackeray ?" You would not dream of such a thing; while as to the other and graver members of society such audacity would be out of the question. Who would be bold enough while expressing his appre• ciation of the great learning of the Lord Chief Jus tice, to call him " Johnny Campbell ?" or to desig nate the highly valued Chief Baron as " Freddy Pollock ?" (Laughter.) I may safely say, no one. I grant that there are and have been many among the theatrical profession whom it would be equally impossible to address with levity. I doubt, for instance, whether the most intimate friend of the grand John Kemble would have ventured even in convivial moments to address him as " Jacky," and I suspect that the nieces of the dig nified Sarah Siddons would have hesitated before they addressed her even on a racecourse as " Aunt Sally." (Laughter.) But these are the exceptions to the rule, and the Jacks, Toms, Harrys, and Freds are as common as household words. For my own part I confess I feel actually flattered when I hear, as I have heard, a greengrocer's boy or a cab man exclaim with a broad grin, "There goes Charley Mathews." (Laughter.) Let the actor hug this sign of kind regard to his bosom. Let him bask in the sunshine of the present, and appreciate the cordiality of his contemporaries. It is one of the strongest holds he has upon their sympathy, and, unlike the author, he has nothing to hope from posterity. It is only to the present he must look, for, alas ! his popularity is but of a day. Now, how is this sympathetic feelinc , engendered ? It is not because the favourite actor p is more beloved than the favourite author, but, I take it, there is a genuine lasting feeling of gratitude existing to wards those who supply a harmless recreation, mixed with gratification to the mind and to the senses, without exacting effort of any kind to secure its full enjoyment. There are times when, from physical or mental disinclination to exertion, you would gladly go out of yourselves, and leave to others the task of amusing you ; times when you cannot fix your attention to the most interesting book, for there is always a certain call upon the imagination to embody and give reality to descrip tions, however vividly presented by the pen. Per haps no two persons ever formed the same concep tion of a Caliban, a Falstaff, or a Meg Merrilies, from the ideas conveyed to them by the same words. Then pencil and chisel fail equally to impart a perfect image to the mind. Can a picture or a statue convey without great mental aid from the spectator the least notion of the words that would flow from the beings they represent ? No. It was the actor's province alone to present at once to the eye, the ear, and the imagination, without exertion of any kind on the part of the audience, the full embodiment of the charac ter represented ; to give the true interpretation of the poet's creation ; and, when surrounded by all the aids of appropriate scenery and correct costume, to stamp upon it the impress of reality. It is this that is so delightful to the care-worn mind, and which leaves so vivid an impression behind. (Applause ) If, then, I have misstated or misre presented the relative positions of the actor and the public, I think I have a strong case to go before a jury with. I think, gentlemen, I have got you in a corner, and that you will find yourselves on the horns of a dilemma. Either you deny the truth of the sketches I have given, and reject the actor's claim on your affection (which you can hardly do consistently with your numerous attendance - here to-day), or you admit the faithfulness of my por traits, and then I think I have you fast—l have you all, as Puff says, " at a dead lock," and you cannot escape me. So, having, as I hope, softened your hearts and awakened your sympathies, I shall now proceed to strike while the iron's hot. Now, beware, gentlemen, I warn you—take care of your pockets, for I am going to turn them inside out, if I can. I know they are full : you are not situated like an acquaintance of mine, who, on being asked by a friend to lend him a guinea, answered briskly, " With pleasure," but suddenly added, " dear me, how unfortunate, I've only one lending sovereign, and it is out." You have your giving sovereigns in your pockets, plenty of them, and I boldly asse r t that now is the moment to invest them both to the fund's advantage and your own, for you will place yourselves thereby in the agreeable position I have described as belonging peculiarly to the actor, and not only enhance your own pleas ire in meeting him, but enable him to point to you in return, with heartfelt gratitude and pleasure, as the generous friends who have assisted him in his praiseworthy works of prudence and thrift—in his honest endea vour to secure for himself a small independence in the decline of his days, and helped him to that pro vision for his old age which, unassisted, he would with all his efforts have been unable to attain. Give him your friendly arms as he toddles down the hill, throw a flower in his path, and soothe the last days of a harmless life expended in your service. Emu late the noble example set you by your excellent, ge nerous-hearted Queen, secure for yourselves a share of the applause you have bestowed upon the an nouncement of her munificent contribution—come liberally to the relief of the poor actor, and, revers ing the old words of Shakspeare—give to him that which not impoverisheth you, but makes him rich indeed. (Applause.) The chairman concluded by associating with the toast the name of his friend, Mr. Buckstone. (Applause.) Mr. BUCKSTONE, on rising to return thanks, was very warmly received. He said—Gentlemen, I am exceedingly happy to tell you it is my opinion that we have all of us cause for congratulation this even ing. The members of the fund, the patrons of the fund, our guests, indeed all present and interested in its prosperity have every reason to-night to be pleased with everything and everybody. (Hear.) In the first place, we have every reason to be pleased with our chairman, and every reason to congratu• late him on his first appearance amongst us at this pleasant festival. (Applause.) It is, I know, his maiden attempt to support the responsibilities of his present position; for though he has often ad dressed an audience from the stage of a theatre, vet this is the first time he has taken a chair, made a speech, and carved a chicken at a public dinner— (laughter)—but I am sure you will acknowledge, although it is his first appearance in the character, he has given no signs of being a novice, but seems as practised and as adroit in his new vocation as he is allowed to be accomplished and unrivalled in his old one on the stage. And while we cannot but con gratulate ourselves on the possession of such a chair man on this occasion, I am convinced he will ac knowledge that he may congratulate himself on being here. Few men have encountered more perils than he—the perils of management, which led to his acquaintance with two defunct gentlemen for merly known to the public as John Doe and his brother Richard—the perils of four times crossing the Atla n ti c —( tw i ce t h ere an d b ack)—the perils of ravelling thousands of miles on American rail .oaas an d encounter steamboats—and though last, not least, rail enperils of for con e them anim a l in the perils, e matrimony. (Hear, hear.) Having all these dangers, is it not a cause in gratulation that he has come out of tired habits.— him heartily sciiierisre,::nd, in the full flow of his excellent behalf this eve have passed away f or ey may be as prosper: a li s a a t ,: i d e is nil e i nabled to turn his back upon his o(ti: o h m ari s t e y el ? usion, and publicly appear Knowing as I do his re fornghter)—we ought indeed to thank g, and to hope that all his reverses _has undertaken in our er, and that his future career b ee t f r i en d s ean wiab , may, not only as his , wi" as grog talent mg i untiring industry deserve. (Applause.) That the members of the fund have cause for congratulation I can show from the prosperous state of the institu tion. At the close of this evening, gentlemen, we shall possess a capital greatly exceeding £ll,OOO •, while, in addition to many expenses and charges paid during the past year, we have given life annuities to eleven members, the annuities ranging from £3O and £6O to £9O per annum ; and those who respect and admire the fair sex as I do, will be gratified to hear that the majority of members receiving such annuities are ladies. Thus the Lady Teazles, the Lady Macbeths, and the Juliets of many years ago are taken care of when they can no longer dream of scandalous coteries, blood-stained daggers, or lovers by moonlight. It is now well known that the Royal General Theatrical Fund is open to all per formers, singers, dancers, pantomimists and promp ters in the United Kingdom who may think proper to become members : and I am happy to tell you that the number of subscribers is 111, all being entitled to their annuities whenever they may become inca pacitated from following their profession when over taken by accident or infirmity. Now, gentlemen, is not this an admirable institution that provides for those in old age who have passed their youth and their prime in the constant endeavour to instruct and amuse the public, and calling but for a very little care and attention on their part to enable them to claim the proper reward for their prudence in early life And does it not speak well for the English actor and his habits that there are four such provident and charitable institutions in this metropolis belonging to the stage, all of them excellent in their objects, and deserving of what they receive the support of their members and the public. Indeed, so prudent are the actors considered, that one of the arguments used against admitting them into a little corner of Dulwich Col lege was that the actors were already well provided for by their respective funds ; and, therefore, that wealthy endowment, founded by a profane stage player, is " under the management of the Archbishop of Canterbury," in whose benevolent countenance, when, as with others of my class, I was summoned before a committee of the House of Lords, I clearly traced (although he said very little) the foregone conclusion that the actors, with their humble peti tions and their claims, were to make their exit as soon as possible, whether O.P. or P.S. did not mat ter, or in any other way, so long as they disappeared; and disappear they certainly did down his ecclesi astical centre trap. (Laughter.) But Shakspear e tells us : " Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head." The jewel that the rejected actors discovered in this adversity is the effort that is now being made for founding a dramatic college, and which every body will acknowledge to be a noble retaliation for an act of injustice; while the friends of the actors now present will be rejoiced to hear that there is every likelihood of the project being carried out, for every person connected with the stage has been, and still is, persevering in the cause. The per formers of the United Kingdom have sent, and are still sending, their subscriptions. The performers of the Australian colonies have been equally ener getic, and have sent to the committee a noble dona tion. The amateurs—the militia, we may term them, of the drama—are continually exerting them. selves for the benefit of the college, and forwarding the profits of their various performances ; the pub lic is equally generous and zealous ; the three dra matic funds are leading the way in the struggle. That of Drury-lane will build a house ; the Covent garden fund will build a house the sick fund will endeavour to do the same. Mr. Charles Kean will build a house ; others have promised to build houses. That stony-hearted man, Mr. Benjamin Webster (laughter) —has promised to supply stone for the buildings from his Welsh quarries; and that he will throw the stone with great vigour I am convinced, as some little return for his Dul wich disappointment. And I am happy to add, gentlemen, that I have the permission of the direc tors of the General Theatrical Fund, for whose welfare you are assembled here this evening, to tell you that we intend to build a house. (Ap plause.) Thus you will see that the cause of the college is hopeful, and I trust that many of us will live to see the day when a school for the education of the children of actors and actresses will also be endowed within the college—being the only want that the dramatic profession now requires to be gratified—and that it shall be a school for the chil dren of actors and actresses only, and not hereafter to be perverted to any other educational purposes. (Applause.) Therefore, gentlemen, you must ac knowledge that the actors possess courage, energy, and economy, and a self-sustaining spirit under every adversity. Cunning fanatics and reverend deans may preach against them till the " crack o' doom ;" but it will be without avail. The gentle man at Carlisle may denounce pantomimes every day of his life if he pleases; but it is a " great con solation" to know that:in all time to come there will be pantomimes at Christmas; and the clown will salute you with " Here we are," and the pan taloon cry out " Somebody's coming"—long and long after all the deans of this day have been gathered to their fathers, and their innumerable and daintily-worked slippers have disappeared from the surface of the carpet. (Laughter.) Ano• ther cause for congratulation we possess is the knowledge that the majority of the English public is with the actor and his art; and to prove this I need only refer to the prosperous winter season just past at the London theatres, to the " crowded houses" during Christmas ; and for weeks after wards in the great northern theatres of Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, Edinburgh, Glasgow, and in Dublin, where I hear more money has been taken than ever was known before at that time ; but whether this may be the fact or not, I can assure you that such has been the case at the Hay market—at least, during the six years of my ma nagement. (Applause.) I can also refer you to the crowded tables in this hall to-night; and liter ally, to crown everything, I need only announce to you that we have received her Majesty's donation of 100 guineas, being the twelfth that has been given from that high quarter of the same amount; while, during the London season, does not the Court Circular announce to you the frequent visits of our beloved Queen to the various metropolitan theatres ; and where such a Monarch—so good, so beloved, so excellent, and so illustrious, such a mother, and such a wife—sets the example, who shall dare to decry those that follow it. (Applause.) And now, gentlemen, as we all know it is a good thing to follow a good example, I hope you will this evening follow the one given to you by her Majesty ; for although our cause is prosperous, yet it is chiefly by your generosity on these occasions that its prosperity can be sustained. We are all very well aware that when we have a good balance at our banker's it will not do to be continually drawing cheques and making no deposits, for in that case we should soon arrive at the ominous words "no effects." Therefore, when the stewards present you with their little scraps of paper, let the points of your pencils penetrate deeply into your hearts, and cause your figures to be as large as your sympathies. (Hear.) Before I resume my seat I think it my duty to thank Mr. Charles Dickens, as one of our trustees, for his constancy to us through many changing years, and to regret his unavoid able absence this evening, but although he is not here in person I well know that his heart and his best wishes are with us and with our cause ; and also again to thank our chairman for his ser vices to-night. Many of us here must remember his excellent father, and the merry days of " Mathews at Home." That Charles Mathews was a member of the Covent Garden Fund, and constantly at tended its annual dinners, where his unequalled songs were one of the greatest attractions of the evening. He was deeply interested in all that per tained to the independence and the respectability of the actor, and nothing could or would have grati fied him more than to have seen his son occupying the honourable position he has taken this evening. (Applause.) And now, having appealed to you as earnestly as my poor powers will permit me, I leave the cause of the fund in your hands, and hope that those hands will go heartily into your pockets ; while to these whose duty it is to wait upon you, our generous friends, and collect your donations— to stimulate them to exertion, I can only parody the words supposed to be spoken by the great duke at Waterloo, "Up stewards and at em." (Laugh ter.) Mr. BUCKSTONE again rose, and in complimen tary terms proposed the " Health of the Chairman." The CHAIRMAN said he had to acknowledge the great gratification he derived from the honour they had done him. (Hear, hear.) He should not in flict on them the oft-told tale of his difficulties, which had emanated from his original sin of enter ing into the speculation of managing Covent garden, Theatre. The consequence of that sin had haunted him ever since, and would, he supposed, continue to do so to the end of the chapter. (Laughter.) He remembered the late Douglas Jerrold having once told him that "he did not despair of living to see the day when he would see him walking up Ludgate-hill with a cotton umbrella under his arm to invest his funds in the Bank of England." He regretted to say Mr. Jerrold did not live to see that vision realised ; the only step he could announce to his auditors Its having taken towards it being that he had bought the umbrella. (Laughter.) He had, however, endeavoured to make provision for a rainy day, by having become that day a member of the Theatrical Fund. (Hear, hear.) He admitted he was rather an old finger post to go into leading strings, but he might one day be enabl e d t o ge t into one of the little houses of the Roz a al Dramatic) College, where he could only saY the would be delighted to Dee se many THE SUN, LONDON, WEDNESDAY EVENING, APRIL 20, 1859. of his friends as the place would hold. (Laughter.) He begged to propose as the next toast, " The Drama," and to associate with it the name of a con summate actor, an efficient manager, a benefactor to the fund, and one who had built the most ele gant and commodious theatre in which the drama could find a home—Mr. Benjamin Webster. Mr. WEBSTER, in acknowledging the compli ment, said he felt himself honoured by hearing his name and his theatre associated with the drama of this country. He wished he could do justice to so important a theme, which required no ordinary talent to describe its humanizing qualities and its civilizing powers. He might truly say that he had cherished an affection for the drama in his heart of hearts—that it had grown with his growth, and that it would endure as long as he lived. (Hear, hear.) But after the light and the eccentric comedy they had heard—the episodes and the domestic drama —he felt it would not do for him to corn nence the heavy business, or to descant upon its merits from the day when Roscius was an actor in Rome. The subject, however, was too dignified to be passed lightly over, and therefore his remarks should be as brief as Shakspere said was " woman's love." The history of the drama was the history of the aristo cracy of intellect and civilization, and it was an aristocracy that never perished because it was not hereditary. (Applause.) The destruction of civili zation alone could destroy it. The English drama stood alone. It was a noble inheritance, and should be guarded as carefully as the nation's honour. It was the sovereign of literature ; and, as was said of the Sovereign when he ceased to exist, " Long live the King," so let it be said, even when its most dis tinguished exponents have passed away, " Long live the Drama." (Applause.) The CHAIRMAN next proposed " The Bar," and especially the members of it who patronised the drama, coupling with it the name of Mr. Haw kins, Q.C. _ _ The toast was duly honoured and responded to by Mr. Hawkins. Some other complimentary toasts were then pro posed and responded to, after which a subscription list was read, amounting to nearly £5OO, inclusive of an annual donation of £lO5 from her Majesty. The musical arrangements were under the man agement of Mr. Lovell Phillips, the principal vocalists being Miss Poole, Miss Eyles, Miss G. Ellis, and Miss Ransford. The dinner was excellent, and served in good style. A GREAT SLAVE AUCTION IN GEORGIA. (From the New York Tribune.) The largest sale of human chattels that has been made in Star-Spangled America for several years took place on Wednesday and Thursday of last week, at the race course near the city of Savannah, Georgia. The lot consisted of four hundred and thirty•six men, women, children, and infants, being that half of the negro stock remaining on the old Major Butler plantations which fell to one of the two heirs to that estate. Major Butler dying left a property valued at more than a million dollars, the major part of which was invested in rice and cotton plantations, and the slaves thereon, all of which immense fortune descended to two heirs, his sons, Mr. John A. Butler, sometime deceased, and Mr. Pierce M. Butler, still living, and resident in the city of Philadelphia, in the Free State of Penn sylvania. Losses in the great crash of 1857-8, and other exigencies of business, have impelled the latter gentleman to realise on his Southern investments, that he may satisfy sundry pressing creditors, and be able to resume business, with the surplus, if any. This necessity led to a partition of the negro stock on the Georgia plantations, between himself and the representative of the other heir, the widow of the late John A. Butler, and the negroes that were brought to the hammer last week were the pro perty of Mr. Pierce M. Butler, of Philadelphia, and were, in fact, sold to pay Mr. Pierce M. Butler's debts. The creditors were repre sented by General Cadwallader, while Mr. Pierce M. Butler was present in person, at tended by his business agent, to attend to his own interests. The negroes came from two plantations, the one a rice plantation near Darien, in the State of Georgia, not far from the great Okefonokee swamp, and the other a cotton plantation on the extreme northern point of St. Simon's Island, a little bit of an island in the Atlantic, cut off from Georgia main land by a slender arm of the sea. Though most of the stock had been accustomed only to rice and cotton planting and culture, there were among them a number of very passable me chanics, who had been taught to do all the rougher sorts of mechanical work on the plantations. There were coopers, carpenters, shoemakers, and black smiths, each one equal in his various craft to the ordinary requirements of a plantation—that is, the coopers could make rice tierces and possibly, on a pinch, rude tubs and buckets ; the carpenter could do the rough carpentry about the negro quarters; the shoemaker could make the shoes of the fashion required for the slaves, and the blacksmith was adequate to the manufacture of hoes, and similar simple tools, and to such trifling repairs in the blacksmithing way as did xot require too refined a skill. Though probably no one of these would be called a superior, or even an average workman among the masters of the craft, their knowledge of these various trades sold in some cases for nearly as much as the man—that is, a man without a trade, who would be valued at 900 dols., would readily bring 1,600 or 1,700 dols. if he was a passable blacksmith or cooper. None of the Butler slaves have ever been sold be fore, but have been on these two plantations since they were born. Here have they lived their simple lives, and loved their simple loves ; here they were born, and here have many of them had children born unto them ; here had their parents lived before them, and are now resting in quiet graves on the old plantations that these unhappy ones are to see no more ; here they have left not only the well known scenes dear to them from very babyhood by a thou sand fond memories, and their homes as loved by them, perhaps, as brighter homes by men of brighter faces, but the clinging ties that bound them to liv ing hearts were torn, for but one half of each of these two happy little communities were sent to the shambles, to be scattered to the four winds, but the other half were left behind, and who can tell how closely intertwined are the affections of a little band of 400 persons living isolated from all the world beside, from birth to middle age ? Do they not naturally become one great family, each man a brother unto each ? It is true they were sold " in families ;" but let us see. A man and his wife were called " a family," their parents and kindred were not taken into ac count, the man and wife might be sold to the pine woods of North Carolina, their brothers and sisters be scattered through the cotton fields of Alabama and the rice swamps of Louisiana, Ns, bile the parents might be left on the old plantation to wear out their weary lives in heavy grief, and lay their heads in far off graves over which their children might never weep. And no account could be taken of loves that were as yet unconsummated by marriage, and how many aching hearts had been divorced by this summary proceeding no man can ever know. It seems as if every shade of character capable of being implicated in the sale of human flesh and blood was represented among the buyers. The Georgia fast young man with his pantaloons tucked into his boots, his velvet cap jauntily dragged over to one side, his cheek full of tobacco, which he bites from a huge plug, that resembles more than any thing else, an old rusty bit of waggon tire, and who is altogether an animal of quite a different breed from your New York fast man, was there. His ready revolver and his convenient knife, were ready for instant use in case of a heated argu ment. White neck-clothed, gold -spectacled, and silver-haired old men were there, resem bling in appearance that noxious breed of sancti monious deacons we have at the North, who are perpetually leaving documents at your door that you never read, and the business of whose mendi cant life is to eternally solicit subscriptions for charitable associations of which they are treasurers. These gentry with a quiet step and subdued voice, moved carefully about among the live stock, ignor ing, as a general rule, the men, but tormenting the women with questions which, when accidentally overheard by the disinterested spectator, b re d i n that spectator's mind an almost irrepressible desire to knock somebody down. And then, all imagi nable varieties of rough backwoods rowdies, who began the day in a dispirited manner, but who, as its hours progressed, and their practice at the bar became more prolific in results, waxed louder and talkier, and more violent, were present, and added a characteristic feature to the assemblage ? Those of your readers who have read " Uncle Tom" —and who has not ?—will remember, with pecu liar feelings, Legree, the slave-driver and woman whipper. That that character is not overdrawn or too highly coloured there is abundant testimony. Witness the subjoined dialogue :—A party of men were conversing on the fruitful subject of managing refractory " niggers ;" some were for severe whip• ping, some recommending branding, one or two advocated other modes of torture, but one huge brute of a man, who had n o t t a k en an ac ti ve part in the discussion, save to assent with approving nod to any unusually ba r b arous propos i t i on, now broke his silence by saying, in an oracu l ar wa y," You may say what you like about manag i ng n i ggers : I'm a driver myself, and I've had some experience, and I ought., to know. You can manage or di nary n i gger s by licking 'em and g i v i ng ' em a t as t e of the hot iron once in a whil e w h en th e y're extra ugly; but if a nigger really sets himself pp against ine, I wet never have any patience with him. I just get my pistol and shoot him right down ; and that's the best way." And this brute was talking to gentlemen, and his remarks were listened to with attention, and hi s assertions assented to by more than one in the kno t of listeners. But all this time the sale was going on, and the merry Mr. Walsh, with many a quip and. jest, was beguiling the time when the bidding was slow. The expression on the faces of all who stepped on the block was always the same, and told more anguish than it is in the power of words to express_ Blighted homes, crushed hopes, and broken hearts„ was the sad story to be read in all the anxious faces.. Some of them regarded the sale with perfect indif- ference, never making a motion save to turn from _ one side to the other at the word of the dapper Mr.. Bryan, that all the crowd might have a fair view of their proportions, and then, when the sale was ac complished, stepping down from the block without caring even to cast a look at the buyer, who now held all their happiness in his hands. Others again, strained their eyes with eager glances from one buyer to another as the bidding went on, trying with earnest attention to follow the rapid voice of the auctioneer. Sometimes two persons only would. be bidding for the same chattel, all the others hay ing resigned the contest, and then the poor creature on the block, conceiving an instantaneous prefer ence for one of the buyers over the other, would. regard the rivalry with the intensest interest, the expression of his face changing with every bid, settling into a half smile of joy if the favourite buyer persevered. unto the end and secured the pro perty, and settling down into a look of hopeless despair if the other won the property. The family of Primus, plantation carpenter, con sisting of Daphney his wife, with her young babe, and Dido, a girl of three years of age, were reached in due course of time. Daphney had a large shawl, which she kept carefully wrapped round the infant and herself. This unusual proceeding attracted much attention, and provoked such remarks as these— " What do you keep your nigger covered up for ? Pull off her blanket." " What's the matter with the gal, has she got the headache ?" " What's the fault of the gal ? Ain't she sound ? Pull off her rags and let us see her." " Who's going to bid on that nigger if you keep her covered up ? Let's see her face." And a loud chorus of similar remarks, empha sized with loud profanity, and mingled with say ings too indecent and obscene to be hinted here' went up from the crowd of chivalrous (?) Southern gentlemen. At last the auctioneer obtained a hearing long enough to explain that there was no attempt to practise deception in the case—the parties were not to be wronged in any way—he had no desire to palm off on them an inferior article, but the truth was that Daphney had been confined only 15 days ago, and he thought on that account she was entitled to the slight indulgence of a blanket, to keep from herself and child the chill air and the driving rain. Will your lady readers look at the circumstances of this case ? The day was the 2d of March. Daphney's baby was born into the world on St. Valentine's happy day, the 14th February. Since her confinement, Daphney had travelled to the plantation to Savannah, where she had been kept in a shed for six days. On the sixth or seventh day after sickness she had left her bed, taking a railroad journey across the country to the shambles, was there exposed for six days to the questionings and insults of the negro speculators, and then on the fifteenth day after her confinement was put up on the block, with her husband and her other child, and, with her new-born baby in her arms was sold to the highest bidder. It was very considerate in Daphney to be sick before the sale, for her wailing babe was worth to Mr. Butler a hundred dollars. The family sold for 625 dollars a-piece. And so the great sale went on for two long days, during which time there were sold 429 men, women, and children. There were 436 announced to be sold, but a few were detained on the planta tions by sickness. At the close of the sale, on the last day, sundry baskets of champagne were produced, and all were invited to partake, the said wine being at the ex pense of the broker, Mr. Bryan. The total amount of the sale foot up 309,850 dols. —the proceeds of the first day being 167,480 dols., and the second day 142,370 dols. The highest sum given for any one family was given for Sally Walker and her five children, who were mostly grown up. The price was 6,180 dols. The highest price paid for a single man was 1,750 dols., which was given for William, " a fair carpenter and caulker." The highest price paid for a woman was 1,250 dols., which was given for Jane, " cotton hand and house servant." The lowest price paid was for Anson and Violet, a grey-haired couple, each having numbered more than 50 years. They brought but 250 dols. a piece. POLICE INTELLIGENCE.-April 19. MANSION-HOUSE.—Patrick Haren, a lad about 12, was charged before Alderman Mechi(who sat for the Lord Mayor) with stealing a G aernsey shirt from the shop of Mr. Young, hosier, Minories. It appeared from the evidence that as Thomas Smith was passing along the Minories he saw the prisoner and another lad dodging about Mr. Young's shop, and from their manner he was induced to watch them. The prisoner seeing him, walked away, but came back and jumped up at the shop door, and pulled down a shirt. Witness ran across and secured him, when he dropped the shirt and commenced struggling, and threw Smith down, but he was held until a policeman came up, when he was given into custody. The other boy escaped. An officer in the court said the prisoner had been previously convicted, which he denied. Alderm - an Mechi—Well, what have you to say to this charge ? Prisoner—Why, I was passing by Mr. Young's shop when a boy came up, pulled the shirt down, and runned away ; an' that 'ere gentleman came up and collared me. Alderman Mechi sentenced the prisoner to three months' hard labour. CLERKENWELL.—Mary Ann Barker, a fruit sellers, of Pleasant-row, Camden-town, surrendered to her recognisance before Mr. Corrie, charged with murderously assaulting Mrs. Jane Mansell, of Bay ham-street, St. Pancras, whereby her life is endan gered. Mr. Thomas Wakeling appeared for the prosecution. The assault complained of was committed on the Ist inst., the defendant having struck the complain ant a violent blow. which knocked her down and rendered her insensible. Since that time she re mained in a paralytic state, and was for some days not expected to live. Mr. Wakeling said his client was still in such a bad state that it would be weeks before she would be able to attend, and he had therefore to ask for a lengthened remand. He then handed in the follow ing certificate : "St. James's-terrace, Camden-town. "I hereby certify that Mrs. Mansell is gradually recover ing from the serious injury recently inflicted upon her. I saw her last evening, and found her better, although not yet out of danger. She can use the right side of her body somewhat better, but is still very much paralysed. Her memory is also slowly returning ; but the state of her mind and body will not at present admit of her giving evidence in a court of law, and that probably for some weeks to come. " JOHN C. DAY, M. 8., Surgeon." Mr. Corrie said it was a very bad case, and he should remand it for a month. He would, however, accept the same bail as before for the prisoner's attendance. The bail having been put in, the woman was allowed to depart. SOUTHWARK.—Henry Pulham, a trouncer, in the employ of Messrs. Cory and Son, the extensive coal merchants of the Commercial-road, Lambeth and Charles Haggard, an ostler, were charged with stealing a large quantity of horse food, the property of Messrs. Cory. It appeared from the evidence of police-constable 125 L that he had been for a few days past em ployed in private clothes to watch the prosecutors' carmen and others who went out with the coal waggons, as a great deal of corn had been missed in a very mysterious way. He watched the waggon which the prisoner Pulham accompanied for two days, and on the previous morning he saw him and the carman leave the wharf with a waggon load of coals. They proceeded up Kent-street and stopped at the Castle publichouse, where the carman entered. Pulham then went to the waggon and took a sack of corn off and handed it to Haggard, when they both went away. Witness, however, followed them and took them into custody. Mi. Hooper, fireman and constable in Messrs. Cory's service, said that Pulham had been in their employ 17 years. When the men went l t o h n e g m ndais tames with a load, they alway s took with extra quantity of corn for the horses. Instead o f giving it to the horses they sold it, and so the horses were injured. Mr. Cory, jun., w ho was in attyndance, sa id t h at the robberies were so mysteriously committed that, when detected, they were compelled to prosecute. The carman was discharged. Although he did not actually handle the corn, he must have known all about it. The prisoners pleaded guilty, and were sentenced to two months hard labour each. LAMBETH.—Robert Read and 'William Rilli. ardtion, draymen, in the service of Memo. Barclay, Per kins, and Co., the extensive brewers in Bank sid( were charged before Mr. Elliott with having caused the death of James Tyson. 2 Jr. Fred. Wm. Evans, of 39, East-street, Wal wo) rth, said he was in the Walworth-road near the Elc phant and Castle on the evening before, and saw a c art run against something and overturned, and two men were pitched out of it. They were thrown under the shaft horse of a brewer's dray, and he saw the wheel of the vehicle pass over the body of one of them. Mr. John Richards deposed that on the evening before he was in a cart with James Tyson, the de ceased, who was driving, and while going along the Walworth-road their vehicle struck against a van and they were thrown into the road. He saw a brewer's dray coming on to them, and he scrambled out of the way as well as he could, but his friend was not so fortunate, for one of the wheels passed over his body and killed him. In reply to the questions of the magistr ate, the witness said he and the deceased were going the same way as the brewer's dray, and were in the act of passing it, when they ran against a van, and were thrown on to it as he had before described. He saw both the prisoners on the dray, but could not say which was the driver. Police-constable Edward Johnson, 65 P, said he was on the spot immediately after the accident, and saw Richardson sitting on a cask in the dray, and Read admitted that he was driving the horses at the time. Both ;said the accident occurred through the deceased - xunning against a van, and being flung on to the shaft horse. The deceased was taken up in an in: e3nsible state and carried to Guy's Hospital, but on arriving there he died. The prisoners said tl Z e accident was unavoidable on their part, and Rich t,ardson was discharged, but Read was held to bail i z i his own recognisances to appear on Monday nex t . FROM THE GAZE" TB OF LAST NIGHT. BUCKINGHAM : PALACE, APRIL 16. This day had audience of 1 ter Majesty :—Monsieur Tous saint and Monsieur Madiot t, Envoys Extraordinary and Ministers Plenipotentiary fri mi Hayti, to announce to her Majesty the establishment d that Republic, to deliver their credentials; to which they were introduced by the Right Hon. the Earl of Malmesbur y, her Majesty's Principal Sec retary of State for Ford g n Affairs ; and conducted by Major-General the Hon. S - Edward Cust, K.C.H., her Majesty's Mafter of the Ce r 3monies. INDIA-OFP ICE, APRIL 16. The Queen has been gra iously pleased to appoint Lieu tenant-Colonel Sir Henry ( ;reswicke Rawlinson, K.C.8., to be her Majesty's Env( y Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary to the Shal i of Persia. ST. JAMES'S-1 ALACE, APRIL 18. The Queen has been plea .E ,ed to appoint Doctor William Baly, F.R.S., to be Pb raid= Extraordinary to her Majesty. WHITER. A IL, APRIL 15. The Queen has been ple a sed to grant the place of one of the Lords of Session in Sc 4 Aland, to Charles Baillie, Esq., her Majesty's Advocate f o r Scotland, in the room of Sir John Archibald Murray, d :ceased. WHITER :. ALL, APRIL 15. The Queen has been pl is rased to grant the office of her Majesty's Advocate for Sc( Y tland to David Mure, Esq., her Majesty's Solicitor-Genera LI t for Scotland, in the room of Charles Bailie, Erg., appo i nted a Lord of Session. WHITER i. kLL, APRIL 19. The Queen has been ple.a sed to direct letters patent to be passed, under the Great Scu Li, appointing the Right Hon. Sir John Taylor Coleridge,, Knt. ; Sir William Page Wood, Knt., a Vice-Chancellor :; the Right Hon. Sir George Cornewall Lewis, Bart. ; t 1 w Right Hon. William Samuel, Baron Wynford ; Robert Phillimore, LL.D. ; and John Young, Esq. ; to be her M: a jesty's Commissioners Winquire into the expediency of brin ring, together, into one plbme or neighbourhood, all the Sul p erior Courts of Law and Equity, the Probate and Divorce C 'ourts, and the Court of Admi ralty, and the various offi t" as belonging to the same; and into the means which exis t , or may be supplied, for pro viding a site or sites, and for erecting suitable buildings, for carrying out this objet t . The auee . o has also beef 1 pleased to direct letters patent to be passed under the (a reat Seal, appointing Sir John Wither Awdry, Knt., the I tight Hon. William Reignald, Earl of Devon, and Richal rc I Jebb, Esq., Barrister-at-Law, to be her Majesty's Corn .1 nissioners to inquire into and report on the Civil, Munici q )al, and Ecclesiastical Laws and Customs now in force in J a rsey. The Queen has also bee a pleased to direct letters patent to be passed under the St al appointed by the Treaty of Union to be kept and made • use of in place of the Great Seal of Scotland, appointing tht s Right Hon. Sir George Clerk, Bart., of Penicuik, in the i county of Edinburgh; James Campbell, Esq., of Craigi, a., in the county of Ayr; Alex ender Earle Monteith, Esq . , Advocate, Sheriff of the county of Fife; Archibald Campb ell Swinton, Esq., the younger, of Kimmerghame, in the c ounty of Berwick, and Professor of Civil Law in the Uni v ersity of Edinburgh; William Leslie, Esq., of Warthill in the county of Aberdeen ; Alexander Maclean, Esq of Ardpur, in the county, of Argyll; and Foster Alley] le M'Geachy, Esq., of Shenley, in the county of Middlese r, to be her Majesty's Commis sioners to inquire into t; le laws regulating the sale and consumption of Exciseab le Liquors in Scotland. ADMIRA LTY, APRIL 14. Corps of Royal Marines --First Lieutenants H. Hewett, Edward M'Arthur, Henry B. Roberts, James Shute, John Busteed Seymour, Arthur ;Tohn Stuart Chas Barker Parke, and John Yate Holland, t ,c) be Captains. Second Lieute nants George Francis Gan able, Samuel Edward Weatherall Hemmans, Edward H. W; kite, Alfred Fonblanque, Mackey Andrew H. J. Heriot, J oseph Robert Leeds, Benjamin Dutton Kennicott, George Clement Boase, William Morris Prichett, William V. B. B :rewett, George M. Shewell, John M. Hamilton, John S. Bo] stein, James W. Scott, Hamilton Wolrige, Samuel T. Collin k;, George Lyon Tupman, George H. Elliot, William W. G. :B. Willis, George Wm. Oliver, John Gore Fitzgerald, W i lliam E. Despard, and Walter Julius Barker to be First ] dieutenants. COMMISSION SIG PIED BY THE QUEEN. Suflolk Artillery Regh ❑ ent of Militia—Patrick Fitz. patrick, Gent., to be Quart .e rmaster, from the Bth of March 1859. COMMISSIONS SIGNE E) BY LORDS LIEUTENANT 4th or Duke of Lancaster's Own (Light Infantry) Regi ment of Royal Lancash bre Militia James Frederick Steiner, Gent., to be Ensi €3l, vice Edwin Rickard Lloyd, promoted. 6th Regiment of Royal. Lancashire Militia—Meredith Thompson, Gent., to be En tsign ; Thomas Henry Tracey, Gent., to be Ensign. sth or Royal Elthorne Li, ;ht Infantry Regiment of Mid dlesex Militia—William Gr iffin Stack, to be Lieutenant, vice Cockney, resigned. East Suffolk Regiment of Militia Artillery Corps—First Lieutenant Wickham Talb of Harvey to be Captain, vice Barlow, resigned; Edward. Griffith Austin, Gent., l a t e o f Bengal Artillery ; Joshua T helluson Rowley, Gent., Robert Welch Coates, Gent., John Bryce Wilkinson, Gent., to b e First Lieutenants ; Gerard Thomas Worthington Ferrand, Gent., Charles Abercrombio Cooper, Gent., Cooper Charles Rankin Brooke, Gent., to be Second Li eu t enants. City of Edinburgh Begin , rent of Artill ery Mi l i tia—James Davidson, Gent., to be Sacond Lieutenant, vice Robert Nicol, promoted. BANIIRUPTS. Richard Geddes, coal m erchant, Homerton, Middlesex, to surrender, May 5, at elei Ten, and June 3, at one, at the Court of Bankruptcy. William Pritchard, build( ?r, Bushey, Hertfordshire, May 3 and 31, at two, and May 3 1, at one, at the Court of Bank ruptcy. Parrinder, grocer, Liverpool, April 27 and May 30, at eleven, at the Liverpool District Court. Robert Joyner, grocer, Liverpool, May 5 and 27, at the Liverpool District Court. John Copley, cabinet-ranker and upholsterer, Westgate. street, Gloucester, May 9 and June 6, at the Bristol District Court. Eliza Fleeson, Lucy Ficeson, and Hannah Fleeson, mil liners, Brighton, May 3, at three, and May 31, at twelve, at the Court of Bankruptcy. John Edwards, boot and shoe maker, Shrewsbury, April 29, and May 21, at eleven, at the Birmingham District Court. Joseph Cowan, corn merchant, Liverpool, May 5 and 27, at eleven, at the Liverpool District Court. Robert Dennis White and John Gregory, East India army agents, May 11 and June 3, at eleven, at the Court of Bankruptcy. Joseph Durrell and George Greenacre, millers, Briggate Milis, North Walsham, Norfolkshire, May 3, at one, and May 31, at twelve, at the Court of Bankruptcy. George Oswald, farmer, Fishburn, Durham, April 29, at half-past eleven, at the Newcastle-upon• Tyne District Court. George Bleackley, brewer, Salford, March 6 and 26, at eleven, at the Manchester District Court. Willliam James Tomlinson and Michael Lawrence De launay, sairt manufacturers, Manchester, May 6 and 20, at twelve, at the Manchester District Court. SCOTCH BANKRUPTS. George Somerville, power-loom tenter, Glasgow. William Dick and Company, potato merchants, Dum. barton and Alexandria. Thomas Scott, Clyde-street, Edinbur g h.. David Milliken, draper, Kilmarnock. COURSE OF E X.CHANGE.--YEsTERA.Y. Amsterdam Ditto Rotterdam — 11 16i 11 17 Antwerp 15 25 22 25 15 —,} • 25 22/ Brussels . . _ 13 _: 5 I 13 51. Short. 25 21 25 10 3 Months. 25 25 P ll: ri m s bu . . rg .. h .. .... .... .... 25 30 Ditto ........... _ 25 27± 25 321 1171 117 i.. 11 10 Vienna Trieste --- ankforton Mar5ei11e5........... . p e tersburgh 34 34 M a d r id Cadiz - 491 50 Leghorn - 29 90 30 5 Genoa -- 25 30 25 37± Naples 40! 41:4 Palermo Messina Lisbon - Oporto New York .. Janeiro ........ 60 days st. 6 . • • Calcutta, Co.'s ru p ee 2 2 E.I. cL : 6 s big. House 241 6 04 Bombay ditto Madras di tto 26 2 4 ---; East India Company a Bills drawn, from the 26th ult. to _ _ the 9th inst. Bengal £433 6 8 Madras 0 0 0 Bombay, £433 6 8 Foreign Gold in Bars (Standard) per oz. £3 17 9 Mexican Dollars Silver in Bars (Standard) 0 5 2 The port of St. Nazaire, near Nantes, is gradually increasing in commercial importance. In tho first three months of the year, 603 vessels entered and 538 sailed ; total, 1,141. Of the total 23 were steamers, and they im. ported 6,861 tows of raerdandiee, and exported 4,874, SPORTING INTELLIGENCE. BETTING AT MANCHESTER-TUESDAY. The betting upon the Chester Cup has now every appearance of occupyin g th e attention of the sportin g world for some time, and many horses will no doubt figure in the market for that event ; at present, however, investments are very limited, and, with few exceptions, extravagant odds could be obtained against any horse in the race. Royal Sovereign holds indisputable premiership, and was supported at the commencement of business to win a few hun dreds at 10 to 1, subsequently, however, 11 to 1 was offered in hundreds, or to take 1,200 to 100 ; and 100 to 6 was currently offered agst Polestar, 20 to 1 agst Bevis, and 1,000 to 10 was offered agst any of William Day's lot, bar two—Rara Avis and. Bevis. Drogheda suffered a further decline, 40 to 1 being his lowest taking price. At the close 35 to 1 was taken to a " pony" about Master Bagot, and 2,000 to 30 about Rosabel. This horse, which was in considerable force yesterday at 50 to 1, was much out of favour to-day. Leamington and Satinstone were firm at their quotations. The fol lowing were the closing prices : CHESTER CUP. 11 to 1 agst Royal Sovereign (take 12 to 1) 100 to 6 agst Polestar (offered) 20 to 1 agst Bevis (offered) 25 to 1 agst Underhand (w.) 25 to 1 agst Herne (take 30 to 1) 30 to 1 agst Satinstone (taken) 100 to 3 agst Wrestler (take 40 to 1) 100 to 3 agst Drogheda (offered) 100 to 3 agst Leamington (take 40 to 1) 35 to 1 agst Master Bagot (taken) 40 to 1 agst Rara Avis (offered) 40 to 1 agst Queenstown (offered) 50 to 1 agst Jordan (take 66 to 1) 66 to 1 agst Sam Spode (taken) 66 to 1 agst Fisherman (taken) 66 to 1 agst Rosabel (taken) 66 to 1 agst Bastion (offered) 100 to 1 agst Wilton (offered) 100 to 1 agst Palmister (offered) 100 to 1 agst Petra (offered) 100 to 1 agst Barometer (offered) DERBY. 7to 1 agst Promised Land (offered) 10 to 1 agst Musjid (offered) 10) to 7 agst Volcano (offered) 100 to 7 agst Marionette (offered) 100 to 1 Lgst Napoleon (taken) AQUATICS. THE GREAT BOAT RACE ON THE TYNE.—The great and long -expected race for £lOO a-side, on the Tyne, between Th omas White, of Bermondsey, London, and Rob er t Chambers, f Walker, New castle, which, from th e prowess o f th e men, has created such interest in aquatic circles both in the neighbourhood of the Thames and Tyne, came off yesterday evening, and was attended by thousands of spectators, there being no lsss than 50 steam boats engaged to accompany it, in addition to which the shores were thickly lined between the starting point, the High Level-bridge, and the fishing point, at the Suspension-bridge. The men were so equally matched in age and performances that not so much money was laid out as is usual in these great races ; but Chambers, probably from the fact of his rowing in his own river, was the favourite at about sto 4. Both men are very well known to our readers, Chambers having, among other things, beaten Galley, of Newcastle, and Ralph, of London, easily, and White having won upwards of eight races easily and contending hard in two. Umpires and referee having been appointed, and all preli miniaries arranged, the men got to their posts both in excellent condition, looking confident and doing credit to their trainers. They started beautifully together, and the conflict for half a mile was most desperate and determined, neither giving his oppo nent the slightest advantage. When about 900 yards had been rowed White showed a trifle in advance, and is said to have borne upon his oppo nent, the effect of which was that the North coun tryman came in contact with a barge. Owing to this accident 'White obtained a lead of several lengths, rowing in his usual style • but Chambers, with his powerful s t ro k e , overhauled him soon after a mile had been rowed. Another desperate contest ensued, but it was so close that a foul occurred in the heat of it. Chambers drew away, and came in first at the winning post by five lengths. STATE OF TRADE. LEEDS, April 18.—There has been very little business done in the cloth halls to-day. The trade is moderately firm, a n d manu f acturers are doing a fair amount of business ; but electioneering proceed ings are absorbing so much attention that few sales of goods are making at the present moment. MANCHESTER, April 19.—The market has been exceedingly fiat, the uncertainty hanging over con tinental af f airs disposing buyers of all kinds of goods for which there is not a pressing want to defer operations as long as possible. In yarns there have been offers for India, but at rates too low to find acceptance. For Germany and the Mediter ranean the sales have been almost stopped ; the home trade is flat. For what business has been effected prices may be quoted Id. per lb. lower on water twist, and id. per lb. lower on mule yarn. Very low numbers of mule and water and 60's to 80's cops are an exception. The cloth market has been very fiat, and prices of nearly all kinds of manufactures, if nom i na ll y unchange d, are practi cally easier in price. COUNTRY 'MARKETS. LIVERPOOL --APRIL 19. We had a good attendance of millers and dealers at our Corn Exchange this morning, and the improvement of 2d per cental was firmly maintained for both wheat and flour, with a fair amount of business passing. Indian corn was not so readily saleable at the advance, but holders never theless were firm in their pretensions. Oats steady; oat meal 2d per cental dearer. In Egyptian beans, peas, and barley there was no change to notice. The market closed very steady at the advance. LEEDS—AP IL . In consequence of small arrivals R the l9 show of wheat Was very limited,; from the same cause the extent of busille SS was only moderate, but Friday's rates we re f u ll y main tained on the sales which took place. Barley as before. Beans in request at full prices. Other articles unaltered. .. : Wheat 4 ......3542: B'd2d 8ar1ey...... Averages ,2309 f g o r, r s, . t , h a e t w : .. e .. e 1 . E . Oats _ „ ........ —s Od Rye l6 ~ ........36s Od Beans Peas .. ~ ........--s Od Arrivals this Week :—. Wheat 3,326 qrs. Oats 4 Barley Beans Peas Rapeseed Linseed 2lO NORWICH CATTLE—APRIL 16. This being the Saturday before Tonal)land Fair, our market exhibited a tolerably good show of cattle, compris ing Scots and shorthorns. There was a comparatively sra•?, s upply of fat beasts, but th e sa l es were brisk at from 7s . to 8s ; prime, 8s 6d to 9s, with a good clearance. Sheep—Fat sheep, 880 d to 8s 6d, prime lots 9s per stone. A good show and sales firm. Pigs—Good store pi gs , 25 s to 30s per head. Fat pork 6s Od to 6s 6d, prime 68 9d per stone. D A b N u r E3 y 7 t . h — e Fusiliers,E......oll the 15th inst., at 7, .ofason. Bombay F ORLo xGBIRTHS. Gloucester-square, Ownidtohwe 0 16 f t t h he in l s a t io ,a c t a Byte.dsct.on2e.RDeansctoeryy Shrews : Hyde-park, the wife of William Forlonge, Esq., o f a daughter. LITTLE.—On the 16th inst., a t 15, Sussex-square, Hyde park, the wife of Col. Little, C. 8., 9th Lancers, of a son. TIRQuHART.—On the 11 th inst., at Southampton, Mrs. George Urquhart, of St. Kilda, Victoria, of a son. mARRIAGES BOLTON—COFFIN.-011 the 16th inst., at Broadwater Church, near Worthing, John Bolton, Esq., 2d Captain and Brevet -Major of the Royal Artillery, to Henrietta . s C tr March, Esl . at Calcutta, F. J. Conway Gordon, eldest son of Captain Conway Gordon, Got i of Southsea, to Mary Raikes, only daughter of the late o e Juliet, _ s econd G An daughter ETT._ n o f theß J o hn Thomas Garrett, Esq , of P or t smou th, an d grand daughter of the late Vi ce -Ad m i ra l G arrett an d C a ptain Clavell, R.N. STANFORD — RICITARDS.—On the 19th inst., at the Kings land Congregational Church, Mr. Alfred Stanford, of Peterborough, to Margaret, daughter of the late Mr. S. Richards, of Tottenham. WITHERS — ELLTs.—On the 19th inst., at Christ Church, Hampstead, William Withers, Esq., of Ringmer, Sussex, to Charlotte Augusta, the eldest surviving daughter of the late Charles Ellis, Esq., of Gray's-inn. DEATHS. ANDERDON.—On the 16th inst., at Bath, Capt. Anderdont aged 79. BEESON.—On the 16th inst., at his residence, 3, Mile end-road, Mr. William Beeson, stationer, aged 78. FYFFE.—On the 17th inst., at Worthing, Mr. E. C. Fyffe, aged 68. HUGHES. --On the 16th inst., at Widcombe, Isle of Wight, Elizabeth Hughes, aged 65, relict of the late Rev. Win. Hughes. PLA.ynun.—On the 17th inst., at Edinburgh, Edith Mil lington, the daughter of Dr. Lyon Playfair, aged six months. FRONLEROY. - 011 the 22d Feb., very suddenly, at Chateau Cour de Broc, near Le Lude, department of Saes; France, Maximilian de Lanery, Marquis de Pronleroy LONDON : Printed and Published by KURD() YOUNG , of No. 112, Strand, Printer, at The swig Office, No. 112; Strand, in the Precinct of the Savoy, is the mei of Aliddiedes, w e d nee do, April 20,„1868.