The Sun. — London, England, 1852-09-16 00:00:00

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Kemeet merely because it V.:5 poasibie lest ',W.-year to Pay a larger dividend thee 3 I r °cur- The chances were that when the a y came for the retie-eel oF the charter, some titlie alte r °,1 21i3: i n t h e House of Commons would propose come n alien which might of .ict the divideed, but et prteett ° t.herre was no n ecess i ty for entering into the matters light forward by Mr. DJ Winton- N l r. DE WINTON re se, amid s t s ome opposition, era but be that I , le had enti re ceefidence in the directors, ° tit be theught if their accounts were well kept, they need 11 °t be ashamed to chow them. There was now an item er g millions l 'elenft unemployed, and if only half of that Prod , we oneloyed at one-and-a-h a lf per cent. it would e 90,000/. a year. If tee accounts were placed regularly before the proprietors every half-year ho was coanced the Proprietors would have a larger dividen e uu, and they would, besides, be enebled (-„J,"ge f or n themse~eswwhethereathee, themselves w hether the business was e lir'utr,ed in the most economical way possible. The n Preprietor then gave notice that at the next meet , gbe would prop ose ' that a copy of the accounts be • traesesitted dto re all proprietors holding 500/. or more stock, at least the days before every half-yearly ltri.jaCß'' W oore deprecat e d th e s uggestion made by Mr. Do e „ ilt°4 cs to the more exteeded publication of the cc inasmuch us the Bank of England was ..ot like a provincial establishment, hut had to manage ,"45 transactions of the Government, which could not be +pelted into. M A6TER3IAN M.P. alluded to the present scarcity p ' silv er, and inquiredwhether any measures were in r irei, e f or rendering the supply more plentiful. Bryft he d GOVERNOR said the Bank of England had te ed as much inconvenience as any of b th , e „ou backers from the want of silver, which he e- Meer) -- "a had been caused by the abst . raction of a certain h , silver coin for emigration, at a time when asgeneral demand•for agricultural purposes e eon 4 bstr fle xion with the harvest. This silver was e xten t at a p ecu li ar mom ent, and to a greater eipe • eer ti " - " Probably t h an it could be under any other -mstle ". Mr. Masterman, as well as every li th banker in London, was aware that the °f Lov,!and had no control over the silver Cit • 'liti° °. They s upplied with the coin. by the were cre eeii . u 'Lne and they were not allowed to hold a larger haek i ," °I it then was necessary for their ordinary vo te . e ' d 4 g Purposes. But at the same time they etadee sed the t° L 4ive every facility for the distribution of silver, meet e I Y ,„"Pt up at considerable expense an establish. lle j e - ,"c'st exelusively for the purpose of arranging . 441, ;" re S egress of silver, so as to give rise to as =teat`neouvenieueo as passible in its general distribu threw It was with very great unwillingness they tet t i o ..aY impediment in the way of London bankers t ee p 01 . 3 6 l arge bums of silver for their country cor taw, dents, who seemed to think that the ask ed was bound to give every amount they :he tr f ar, without regard to the amount 1:3 "r th e -e g s urY at the time. It was quite impossible i tor l ank to accede t o th e ir requests, but the diree .lieeedad ordered a quantity of silver coin, and ho be dise „all difficulties in obtaining a supply would speedily Ttimar—..(rinar.) Leo dividend was then agreed to, and the warrants tQ ber ee• CI zt . focto be payable on and after the 11th o e Proceedings then terminated. !Z-REFORD MUSICAL FESTIVAL, ghlyettBl)Ar EVENING.—The concerts are held at the Tne attendance this evening was cer thia ~I lanr e Promising than the one at the cathedral :tiestiel3h_..4,...rrtn2:. There were between 300 and 400 "" The overture to Zouberflote commenced the Was played well. Herr Formes sang an Spohr' s F aust w i th his usual v i gour, an d . peopl e a w onderful i mpress i on upon t h e H ere f o rdshire 74 1 4 4on this his first appearance. Mrs. Enderssohn G r 7 i ss William s gave M ende l sso h n ' s p l eas i ng d ue t, to th in g," in c a pit a l style, but it was not suitable e taste Ma rn . 13 f the audi ence , who scarcely noticed it. C lara Novello then came forward, and made $ 3! iMpresaion by her rendering of a cavatina b eL ' l " n i• The English Glee and Madrigal Union ihiP',Pfortned Webb e ' s glee, " A generous friend has le gitimate and unaffected style. Miss Wil 41ave w as encored in Land's pretty ballad, " The il t l ir ra lov e ." T he march, c h orus , an d quar t e tt , lilt i t p a r e ' heroes," b r illi ant l y per f o rmed, closed the f th Th e e concert. 'adj sec ond act opened with Weber's Oberon over ' capitally played, but the wind instruments were kg ;I n n loud. Si r H . Bi s h op ' s g l ee , " Wh e r e a rt calved of light," performed by the "Union," re ' rn oit unanimous encore. The same cornpli lelnis b was awarded Madame Clara Novelle and Mr. 4114.14., e eves, for th e i r b r illi an t s i ng ing of the duet l 'ek t h' e nere core," from Doniz-tti's Roberto Deve krtor The m a d r i ga l , "The L a d y O r i ane , was b a dly n , tl lo „ — ,ed by the c h orus , w h o were h u ddled together `osy s' the slight es t arrangemen t as to the parts tit W a ere singing. Madame Clara Novello's singing til;Qbi Lon giunge," was a s plendid specimen at vo. N N ith l is °l . Mr. Sims Re e ves sang " Coen 'e gentil," t hen c "rtie, accompanied on the harp by Mr. Trust. e h nn ert conclud e d w i t h Si r H . Bi s h op ' s qu i ntett '44: r rruq, " H om e, th e r e ' s a s t orm ," sung b y M rs. 17 8 nnn, Miss Williams, Mr. Hobb s , an d M r . H. W:Y* !g e - , b .Ntspar MonwzNa.—The cathedral thi s morn (11 l albited a marked improvement in the attend ance. Sp a h r , Performanc e i nc l u d e d Haydn's Cre a ti on ioea sacred cantata, " God, Thou art great," f l'orh tl nd an alarm," by Sims Reeves, and a selection s' q r, ll eethoven'ii s ervice in C. The performance of Ah,'Peation was progressing most satisfactorily ur notice was forwarded. 44 " a L eollection at the cathedral doors amounted to decrase on the sum collected Yn a - 18 49 g of .551., e when it reached 2301. the first _D 11-4: A. T 111 OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. TUE DUKE'S LAST MOMENTS. WALMEE, WEDNESDAY EVENING. —As the slightest incident in connexion with the last moments of this great man cannot fail to be received with deep interest, we supply the following details:, the authen ticity of which may be fully relied upon : It was on Monday morning that the Noble Duke last tack open-air exercise by walking out in the environs of the Castle, and not yesterday morning, as was erroneously reported, before the facts connected with the melancholy event were fully known. It is, however. quite correct that, up to the morning of the day of his death, his Grace's health continued to all appearance in its usually satisfactory state, consider ing his advanced age. The Duke retired to rest on Monday night quite well, and in his customary good :Tirits. It is believed that he passed a comfortable Light, and, at all events, he did not summon his at tondant to wait upon him. On Tuesday morning his valet called him, as usual, between six and seven o'clock; but his Grace did not rise to dress, and, after the lapse of about an hour, the valet's at tention was aroused by a sound resembling faint moanings issuing from his master's chamber. He thereupon went into his Grace's room, when the Duke, who had not left his bed, inquired if his apo thecary, Mr. Hulke, of Deal, lived near, and directed that that gentleman should be sent for, as he (the Duke) wished to see him. This was the first intima tion received by any member of the household that his Grace felt indisposed. The intelligence was im mediately communicated to Lord and Lady Charles Wellesley ' who occupied adjacent apartments in the Castle, and they at once proceeded to his Grace's chamber, where they remained with him constantly until he breathed his last. In the meantime a groom had been dispatched for Mr. Hulke, who hurried to the Castle without delay, and arrived at about half past eight or a quarter to nine. Mr. Hulke found his Grace suffering from an epileptic fit of a rather violent character, somewhat similar to the attack which the Duke experienced several years ago; and no serious apprehensions were at that moment entertained as to his safety. Mr. Bulk; therefore, left the Castle for the purpose of preparing some medicines to administer to his Grace, in the hope that they would afford him effectual relief; but, during his absence, the Noble Duke grew worse, and it was necessary to send for Dr. Macarthur, of Walmer, his regular medical attendant. Mr. Hfulke and his son (who also belongs to the medical profes sion) speedily returned, when an emetic was admi nistered to the noble patient, but uniortunately with out any good effect. The Duke's condition gradually became more dangerous—he was seized by a second convulsive fit of greater violence than the first, and the alarm of his son and daughter-in-law, Lord and Lady Charles Wellesley, painfully increased. At this critical emergency, a messenger was dispatched to the telegraph office at the Deal railway station for the purpose of immediately summoning Dr. Hume from London to his Grace's assistance. In case Dr. Hume should be absent from town, the message specified that Dr. Ferguson should be next applied to ; but, unfortunately, it so happened that both of these eminent physicians were in Scotland at the time when the message reached their residences. This failure having been reported to the noble inmates of the Castle, Lord Clanwilliam (captain of Deal Castle), who had hastened thither on bearing of the Duke's illness, recommended that Dr. Williams, of London, should be summoned to Walmer. De. Williams was accordingly telegraphed for from Deal ; and being at home when his presence was demanded, he immediately set off to the South-Eastern Railway station at London-bridge to take the train. He did not reach Dea], however, in time for his services to be of any avail. The Noble Duke's state gradually became more perilous ; and he buffered a third attack, still more severe than the precedi ng ones . Wh en th e members of his family and his medical attendants spoke to him, he appeared to be conscious that they were addressing him, and attempted to articulate a reply. His answers, however, were not distinct enough to be intelligible; and, indeed, not a syllable that he uttered from the moment when he ordered his apothecary to be sent for could be understood. About three o'clock he had a fourth and final attack, of re doubled intensity, which rendered him perfectly in sensible, and ultimately carried him off at the hour above stated. The painful intelligence was immediately trans mitted by sub-marine telegraph to his Grace's eldest son, the Marquis of Douro, who is now staying with his family in Germany. It is believed that the Noble Marquis is at Frankfort, since the last communication received from him was dated from that place; but whether he is still in that capital, or in any other nart of the German States, it cannot be long ere the afflicting tidings reach him. Up to six o'clock this evening, however, no return message had been re ceived from him to say when he may be expected in England. His presence is, it his needless to add, anxiously looked for at the castle. Until his arrival, nothing will be decided respecting the interment of the remains of his illustrious and lamented father, but there can he little doubt that they will, in the first instance, he removed to Apsley House. The Noble Duke had, on the day of his death, an appointment to meet the Countess of Westmoreland at Dover, on her return to Vienna, for the purpose of seeing her on board the packet which was to take her across the Straits to the Continent; but infor mation was conveyed to the Countess at an early hour that illness would prevent his Grace from fulfilling his ensagement. Th e C ountess received the intelligence with great concern, and drove over last evening from Dover to Walmer, to ascertain the nature of the Noble Duke's ailment, when she learned the sad intelligence that his Grace was no more. The quiet village of Walmer, and also the adjacent town of Deal, have experienced a most painful sensa tion at the melancholy event. Yesterday all the shops in both places were partially closed ; and the flags at every public building, at Deal Castle, and at various other elevated points, were lowered half-mast high in token of reverence for the memory of the departed. At Dover, likewise, the mournful tidings excited similar manifestations ; and from the Castle Keep, from the Admiralty station, the Harbour- house, the Pilot house, &c., the union-jack drooped, half-struck, as a symbol of public woe. Lord Fitzroy Somerset paid a visit of condolence to the inmates of the Castle yesterday, and numerous ( quipages of the resident gentry of the surrounding districts, are constantly seen moving to and fro on the same sad errand.. Amongst the latest letters penned by his Grace were two documents addressed to Lord Fitzroy So- merset. Mr. Greville, the Noble Duke's private secretary, arrived at the Castle yesterday, and Lord Fitzroy Somerset also visited the Castle during the day. An express has been forwarded to - air. Parkinson, of Lincoln's Inn fields, the private solicitor of the Noble Duke. That gentleman has possession of his Grace's will and private papers. Whatever course of proceeding the country may adopt, we believe that it has always been the wish of his Grace that be should be interred privately at Stratlifieldsaye, in the same vault with his Duchess, who died in 1831. All his Grace's public documents and State correspondence will be handed over to Viscount Mahon, who will thus become the literary executor of the Duke of Wellington, as well as of Sir Robert Peel. His Grace became Governor of Weimer Castle on the death cf the Earl of Liverpool in 1828. Tne Lord Wardenship of the Cinque Ports has heretofore been considered one of the Premier's perquisites. Its emoluments consist of the Castle, grounds, fisheries, &c., but of no salary. William Pitt, amongst others, has been Lord Warden. THE RlVER.—Seldom was witnessed such a feeling of regret, save on the death of a Sovereign, as was evinced yesterday morning on the news being circu lated that the illustrious man was no more. Ships and vessels of all nations, from the large Indianian or trader to the small coaster or collier, all dropped their colours halfroast high. From the pier• heads of St. Katharine s, London, East and West India Docks, the flags were also dropped, while the numerous large factories and other establishments on the banks of the Thames evinced a similar feeling of respect. The large fleet of steamers belonging to the General Steam Navigation Company were among the first to drop their colours from the fore, main, and mizen; n d ere the morning ha d far advanced, scarcely a craft was seen going up or down without displaying the emblem of mourning. Lower down the river the sam e fe e ling was exhibited, and as soon as the home ward bounders learned the sad tidings their flags were at once lowered. THE TRINITY HOUSE.—On the death of the Master of this Honourable Corporation being communicated to the Elder Brethren they at once directed the usual partial cl os i ng o f the astablishmen ts on Tower - hill an d Deptford, and the hoisting of the colours half-mast high at the Trinity stores at Blackwell, and other eeon as the intelligencesimilar can reach , • and on the death of was appointed Master of the corporation. Duke was el ectedbrethren in 1829, theo the elder _ Marquis Ceanden, 1837, Tag TOWER.—The different effices of the l g ' a h r e ri l s a i: and depot were partial! important_h office of Constable some eg Nears Lauereceived of h el t d h t e he dyeatchlused on the intelligence of the Tower of London. . of his Grace, who for The bell of St. Peter ad V rel'-e the church of the fortress, was tolled nt iub rv,As during the cky. OXFORD, SEPT. 15.—Great s€nsaiion has been produced here by the intelligence of the lamented death of the Cbancellor of the It is true that his Grace was net in the hebit of visiting the place, or of exercising any direct influence in academical affairs ; still, to a body so intimately con nected with the Church of this land as is the University of Oxford, it cannot but be matter of extreme importance to be provided with a head who shall be a worthy representative of her spirit, alive to the necessities of the age in which we lire, capable of seeing his way clearly in the midst of difficulties, and possessed of courage to maintain her essential and unalterable principles against the oppo sition either of false friends or avowed enemies. Ti e selection of a worthy successor to the Duke is, of course, a subject not new to men's minds who had re flected on the great age which had been attained by the late Chancellor, end the merits and demerits of several candidates have probably been discussed in most common rooms. Among these we may specify, the Duke of Newcastle, Lord Derby, Mr. Sidney Herbert, Lord Redesdale, Lord Harrowby, and Lord E llesrnere. LIVERPOOL.—The tidings of the death of the Duke of Wellington caused a general feeling of depression in Liverpool yesterday. The reports received by telegraph late on Tuesday night were vague and contradictory, but the dispatch of yesterday morning was decisive. The flags on the various public buildings were lowered, and the shutters of many cf the shops closed, in testimony of respect to the late Duke. MANCHESTER.—The chief topic of conversation upon 'Change yesterday was the death of the great warrior; the shutters of the building were partially closed in respect for his memory, and the flag was hoisted half-mast high. It is expected there will be a general mourning on the day of the funeral. BIRMINGHAM, SEPT. I.s.—The intelligence of the death of the Duke of Wellington, received by electric telegraph last night, and generally known after the arrival of the London papers this morning, has, as might have been expected, notwithstanding the extreme age of his Grace, excited mourn• ful interest in this town and neighbourhood. A feeling of regret, apparently unmixed with any alloy, pervades all parties. The Duke of Wellington was little known in this vicinity, and on the occasion of his only visit to Birmingham, in 1830, when Prime Minister (that we recollect), in company with the late Sir Robert Peel, was rudely treated by an incon siderate.. mob. Those manifestations of hostility, whe ther in public or private, have, however, as regards the late Duke and his then distinguished colleagues, long subsided, and whatever differences of opinion might have existed with regard to the public policy of England's great warrior and his lamented friend, they had for many years past won and enjoyed per sonally, as honest statesmen, the respect and confi dence of the people of these districts. The bell of the ancient church of St. Martin's has throughout to day, by direction of the churchwarden, tolled a muf fled peal, and it is intended that this testimony of re spect and admiration shall be continued daily until after the obsequies of the illustrious deceased. The form of ceremonies which may be adopted ou the day of interment will remain undetermined upon unt' more is known of proceedings elsewhere. (From the 7inzes.) There are few persons of any reflection at all in this .country who have not frequently—we might say con. tinually—speculated on the event which now occupies all minds. The solemn announcement, " Death of the Duke of Wellington," accompanied with the usual signs of national respect and concern, has long been as fami liar to the British imagination as the inscriptions we have read a thousand times on the walls of our churches. The gap that the Duke would leave in our councils or our arms, the universal solicitude that would surround his deathbed, the grief and dismay all would feel should he die at some crisis of national peril, and the magnifi cence of the obsequies with which England would carry to the grave the noblest of her sons, aro thoughts that have occurred over and over again, not only to us, but to our fathers, and to multitudes who hare long since them selves been gathered to the grave. Eighteen years ago we remember that it was commonly said that the work of the Peninsula was beginning to tell on that iron frame, and since that men have predicted—till they were wearied or ashamed of predicting—that each Waterloo banquet would prove the last. Of late years increasing infirmities—manifest, though energetically resisted— the treacherous ear, the struggling utterance, and the tottering step, all told their tole, a n d sug gested even a fear that the greatest man of his age might live to illustrate the decay from which no greatness is secure. Yet the event, so long in sight, as it were, has come upon us by surprise. More than that, we venture to affirm that the reality, in its impression and effect, will prove very different from the anticipation. When a man of high inventive and original powers is with drawn from us in the full swing of his activity, we miss a forward spirit, a dexterous debater, or an eloquent tongue. We know exactly what we lose, and we can measure our loss; but it is not so when a pillar of the State is broken, and a tower of strength crumbles to dust. In that case time alone reveals the diminished strength of the social fabric and the iacreasiug strain on the remaining supports , . The leading quality of this remarkable man, that which seemed the sum of his other qualities, and which ren dered him in the judgment of the great French diplo matist " the moat capable man" of his time, was that he always knew what was best to be done in the actual state of affairs, and had the wisdom wad courage to do it. In this there was but little ' show, and sometimes not a little obloquy. There was no personal pride, no egotistic glory, in discerning and obeying the dictation of circumstances. The exercise of this quality in the face of adverse circumstances and an overpowering foe afforded frequent occasion to the terror of alarmists and the malice of detractors during the changing fortunes of the Peninsular war. The Duke always knew when to advance, and when to give way, and when to rest content with a purely defensive posi. tion. But the grounds on which he thus acted could not be always so apparent to others, who saw no courage except in resistance, and recognised no genius except in its triumphs. The same trials, the sanse necessities, have characterized the Duke's long political career, and he has always met them and mastered them with his old rule of doing the best that could be done. This was not to lead a party or to represent a principle. Of course, it failed to satisfy those who think the prosperity of the country not worth concession or compromise. Henc e i n is that the Duke's military and political life have to often been compared to the disparagement of the latter, by critics who are not aware, or who forget, that the former also was exposed at the time to precisely the ger tenabl e , an d o bj ects same attacks. Posterity will pronounce the Duke one and the same in all the stages of his varied career; ev e r rheoa longer g to e r give attainable; p to sacrifice predilection s an d himself, and do only what was best for his country. I t n o loe is this very characteristic, so bumble' and inglorious, which has rendered the Duke of Wellington the great arbiter of factions, the chief of the Senate, the " First Consul" of this Republic, and " the father of his coun. try." It is this that has given him a constant place at the right hand of the Throne. Ever ready to give his advice without favour or prejudice, he has been appealed to at the most difficult junctures, with the unanimous concurrence of all parties. It was not that the Duke had no opinions or predilections of his owis; he had them us strongly as other men, and they were of a decidedly aristocratic origin; but he freely gave them up for the good of his country. This, then, is what we have lost, and what may not be so easily supplied even by the fresh memories and living traditions of a wise policy. In the collision of in terests and the dead lock of parties we may some day want a man, not to proclaim a principle, or to preach a crusade, or to goad on a faction, or perhaps to drive the Crown itself, as once in our annals, to fatal extremities, but to tell all plainly the best thing to be done. We may become painfully sensible of our loss long before the recurrence of even such an ordinary Ministerial crisis as that of last year. The enthusiasts that have bowed to this authority, the turbulent and ambitious who have feared it, and the timid who have relied on it, may now give way to their several instincts. The great Duke is no more. The constitutional aristocracy has no longer its chief. The living oracle of a just and patriotic expediency is silent. The finger ofceution that pointed to danger,vvhen others were for pressing onwards, will no more be raised. The Argus-rye that scanned every weakness iu the State, and perceived the dire contingencies of a dark future, no Leger watches for us. The man who gave timely warning of an ill-starred expedition, who advised the choice of commanders for services of difficulty, wh o planned the secret defences of this metropolis in an hour of need, who was believed to bo capable of meeting at once soy danger from within or from without with equal promptitude and success, and whose vigour of action no one could doubt, is no longer among us. Nor is the los s ours alone, for the Duke of Wellington was the greatest man and the most potent name an the whole world. Foreign as well us internal foes will feel a weight o ff their souls; foreign friends will feel our alliance the weaker. The mere presence and example of euoh a man was felt to be security for our good order and stability. " While the Duke lives," has long been a favourite expression with those who feared or desired a change. -find the land had rest for 40 years," we read in the sacred annals as the natural result of so me great deliverance, followed by the rule of the deliverer himself. That rest we have had. Looking to the im portant advice he has given at critical periods, and the incalculable weight of his standing authority, it may b e said of the Duke, more than of any British statesman, that he has jutgrd Israel, and that far a term of patri archal duration. The conclusion of such a moral reign cannot be regarded without a degree of awe and even apprehension. But it is only when the occasion comes that our want will be fels. Nor is the political horizon very clear at this moment. The Premier has a great windfall of places and dignities to dispose of; but he may soon be male to miss the great man whose uni versal powers were faintly expressed in the accumula tion of his offices and honours. Happily so energetic a mind has left not merely its impress on the age, but worthy successors, in a nice of men who have already had ample opportunities of illustrating, in peace as in war, the example of their illustrious chief. Happily, also, it seems a law of Pi ovidence that the death of one great man should be the raising up of others, encouraged by his example, and vieing for ihe inheritance of his virtues and his name. (From the s.7orning Chronic'e The Dulie of Wellington s career as a General ex tended only over twenty-eight years; but his life was prolonged beyond his eighty-third birth-day. The . , two' J- at° n A 'ONCASTER RACES: (THIS DAY.) Nu lir , ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH.) % 4 P 4 ti 4 t , ° S weeplakes of 10 sovd. each. Red House in, 4 14' d tt - zett a "' 2 c)f Tram *— *— PS 3 ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• GLINTON STAKES BETTING. 7 to 4 agst Vindex 6 ti 4 ag:t Pelion 7 to 2 eget Exact k k °ll la,, c E:NI RAL RAlLWAY.—Traffic for the Week pa,Pt. 12, 1852 atidtig"3(lB,B4B), parcels , QOO,, carriages ... £1,720 16 6 " 8, cattle, „., 750 0 10 11, tort d Total 2,474 17 s:rf.olaing week in last year... 2,460 0 8 4 k k 1 5, . r killM n b BAxpox r ILWAY —(2O miles open)--Return 11 4,4 n t he week ending Sept.. 11, 1852: £175 2 4 Itler ch ger3, parcels &c. •.. -ail di B e, cattle ' ,&c.... 31 10 0 4Ptek,,_ Total .„. £209 12 4 liZnding week ii;1811 (10 miles open) : kl tr 4en gers, Parcels &c. 36 ehan diee, cattle , &c.... 0 7 10 Total £36 16 11 A. 11 ) , ___ t7kth'll4l,, th? Proprietors 241,,, 4 r h•-•tINT, GRATIS !—ln conseToee of "1, 1 47 ti,,l,Grace the Duke of Wellingto, Alt 1141;:(‘Y bispateh have determined upon t the I 9th inst., \N„Si.,l",.:with their journal on Sunday nest, the if• his .I,kt'l, ;;,,,,"1?rlt Will contain a presenting a Ni'Dit wl/riing hismilitary t an indivi d ,_ 0ji..,, iNZ4 tila„`"4.4 Matter connected with . so eminent varied and extraor -4 V life.'" coteplete the sketch of copiousapolitic . al career, with . his he newsvendors itl it : 4 4 , anl All orders should be given to forwarded t to the A i t Oize°44trY without delay, or kf t o ilt ea. POLICE.—S°" Illo_viOttlet, Willl Tam A Drvisloiv OF 13 "I conveying to aztinndl.iad left Woking_ station, t fNcl t i t t ,: 4l ; , e . l ee rttecte i a t;o l .. :_; friends o . f the National t0v0i.'.414401 •P i n as it was getting ' neighbourhoods Necropolis q6kt ii ...Nll ß a''',,te characters who infest the and liN t it) bret4 Chertsey assembled on . the common dusk, a large body of () li ce had , I ,'' ) 4 Rh to i'' t , down the hurdles surrounding the tent Vtof Nat r th "6 occasion. The metropolitan p ° k4- 1 k P°sd e 4 rn .• -t however, ,-.. Is, 'llls e day used th t ost forbearance towards Q a . ,Ick.tuitii, P'etor Fisld th 4 4 e were claimants to the common der of t i l Co I, departing several of the jrningleaders ad who was on the spot (by or , k ' i l , 4 L '- i tti li t e h " a l ei °4 „ e rs of Police), advised the riotous lot to keep ti t ', h o e bl ow "r! sooner said so than a fellow dealt . him a s t ,ll 4 i we ver With a stick, which he cleverly par . ried t i ie la i i l s y1) 4 4 o le, ~ was severed in two. Inspector Dirking Page , , Iqt i .rre y _(ftreed a line, and, assisted by Inspector a 4tor,i,,_,senstabulary, they drew their staves amidst . qt l t , '',4o bottles and other missiles, speedily putting to se t e i v tlinp.' ss i ereW, and restoring order on the common Isi."eN. ,'„gee%'",,e`Ned in. It is but right the people in this . Nki v ''‘'i,, , " 4 of f ilt3 , should know that those who have been in s 'l en 48 , e ,. ir ,_tenements for only ten years . the direc -4 i ' i l / 4 a ,-4 ee ueld. and that a compensation will be tit sgs ', ee't and fair scale. This common is utterly NI eil lici te lcit fo r •--e purposes of a cemetery, and . is ore VI L l l i a -3' which we shall get entirely rid of intra tt •4t ' 4 'V 4r 11 h qlL, 131a t i E ,. IN THE PERTH WEAVING TRADE tlerie' th,,, learn that all our native manufacturers, we an °(llt4,°i Can‘laßgew agente, have made art advance on ti;,`e i„ 'att Wee..weaving, corresonding to what 59!,5 4 ., °port. ataken plan n the 4 ' Dr k ll d in Glasgow. The ad ts) , K t , i IN lened to the various qualities woven i the A ko r wag 4 Ybe stated as equal to one shilling on take , N 4 etici i , t .r h be m anufacturers would, 11 1b, 11 5 3'e 41 c/r - ; 4 .n they can End, and so would the a„, we believe, ,ehts. (i k. ,, N ar r ie t is r. lt,t,/iNl,ua di4,B:t 17hitehaven Castle have bs• - o en n F nu ri : i t , h 54 . s ail of „. guished within the last few days. ~ ,_sl),4,tf'ttl‘4l Si4444lsdale, Major Chambre, and Mr. Tohnston NO p t co„c r d.ty the party was increased by the addi s .1P "b 4 50,,,,'"2e of Fsse and her daughter, Lady A. t 4 1 4 4 'N) "' a Y 'I '' - were adjcd , o , 1, br. Skilling and Dr. Wardrop 4'tio,'ltl 06,44 yesterday evening the arty was joined Nit 4 till 8--''se• CaptLowther, M. P P and illrz. Low" ta , , )In g at the castle.—Ciiniberlaild Pacquet of SUN. THE LONDON, THURSDA Y EVENING, SEPTEMBER 16. 1852 greatest ceequerors and c n et - at - n o m have always done their epsciai wo r k rap i dly. The l ast campa i gns of Alexander, Cseia r , an d N apoleon were c l ose d b efore en about the pernei of th e energy of m iddl e lif e; Frederick Of Prussia sod Marlborough each commanded in the field after the age of fifty ; but the Duke of WelllP g" affords almost u solitary instance of a great warrior whose life wa s prolonged-_.-andduties in other d epartments of State serv i ce — nearly that for every aetive forty yeart after his last battle was fought. The Duke's actual career as a soldier was shorter than hie public lite as a statesman. But what was that career, from eighteen—Arthur Welleeley'e age when he received his first commission —to six-and-forty, wh en ho was hailed Prince of Waterloo? We cannot better esti mate it than by reviewirg the difficulties which the Great Captain lied to face, a nd -by contrasting his achievements with those of his meet illuvrious rival. In this place it were Alike impos•ible and undesirable to write a [tannery memoir. All that we can attempt is to indicate these le a di ng f eatures of the Duke of Welling ton's generalship whi c h illustrate personal character, and ushich, wo think, elucidate those general views of his into r man whi c h we yesterday ventured to sketch. The military fam e o f E ngland was at a decided e bb at the close of the e i g h teenth century. The glories of Blenheim and Malpl aquet only survived as rapidly de caying traditions; and, in truth, Marlborough's career itself was exceptional, a n d but an evanescent burst of triumph. Fifty years ago, England was unknown or forgotten on the Continent as a European military power. All antecedent presumptions were against us. We had been ignominiously defeated in our American colonies. The conquests of Clive—the real basis of our coming grandeur —were so recent and indistinct as to be c''inparatively unappreciated. We had subsidized Hessian mercenaries for our internal defence. Our Canadian conquests had, indeed, for a time, revived in the French nation some memory of our ancient fame; but the conquest of Wolfe was too distant to be i nfluential. Our last mien• nental general, the Duk e of Cumberland, had not led the world to expect mu c h f rom our re-appearance on the field of European strife. I t was reserved for Wellesley to inaugurate his military career in the Duke of York'scalamitous and impotent exp e di t i on to Holland. And it was well for his training, mor a l as well as professional, that it began in the presence of disaster and defeat. Ad versity is a sett) school in which to educate a conqueror. The experience of military incapa c i ty which w elles i a y gained in the swamps of Hollend leas hi s first, and, perhaps, his most valuable lesson in war. The scene changes. The willow bank is succeeded by the palm-tree grove. From the mists of the Low Coun tries, Colonel Wellesley is launched on the burning learned in Europe are soon, an d beneficially, to be chequered by the imp e t uous energy which must decide an Oriental battle. Assaye and Seringapatatn are the complement of the dull, but salutary, service on the Weser and the Meuse. The general has now received his perfect training—the man of Waterloo has been moulded in the most opposite schools of discipline. He has learned how to handle a defeated and disheartened corps—he has also had glorious experience in launching the successful thunderbolts of war. Yet his next campaign must be undertaken under different, but still most trying, cir cumstances. The expedition to Portugal was all but a forlorn hope. A previous attempt under Sir John Moore had, indeed, revealed—but only to gifted and very keen eves—that smuebrOrldyinciatiileidne(wl' there way true stuff in the British soldier. • The army was unpopular, both at home and abroad; and a feeling prevailed that we were an invincible naval, but a general contemptible military power. The Ministry of the day was unable to equip anything like an imposing but was which ren dered unity of action impossible; and the discredit si°urbefe.ctedCtoomamcaonmd pl w ex as ity no o t f discredit able Convention of Cintra was not likely to inspire confidence or hope. Sir Arthur Wellesley en tend on his first responsible European commend under every conceivable combination of disadvantages. Ha; pily, we had forgotten the old chess-board strategies of military professors; but we had not substituted any system of war in the place of discarded scientific theories. The (hying and immoral method of Napo leon, which had already practically reduced the heart of Europe into one imposing province, w as such as no British general either would or could imitate. It was left to art of the E war, nglishand comm athen t nder in Port uga l to originate an o apply it as he. best could. And, with that simplicity of character and single ness of aim which were the soul of his power, ho made it his first duty to create an army, and his next to fight with it. Throughout his Peninsular campaigns, this was the foremost thought with Wellington—to husband his army; and this, we may confidently say, is the solitary secret of his eventual success. It was the application of a high conscientious sense of moral duty. It was in this respect that ho formed so remarkable a contrast with his great rival; and the final triumph of Wellington over Napoleon only illustrated the victory of principle over unscrupulous ness. Wellington kept his army by his own military chest—Napoleon made war pay its own expenses. Tho Emperor used his men as he would use cannon balls— the English Commander knew that no money could re place the loss of a single disciplined soldier. Welling ton's dispatches discuss the commissariat, the supplies, the arms, the equipment, the very shoes of his men— Napoleon's proclamations deal in glory, honour, the " witness of the ages," conquest, blood, and terror. If Colonel Gurwood's publication mucks of the War-office clerk, the Vietoites et Conqiletes has an undeniable twang of the minor theatre. The result was, that Marengo and Austerlitz collapsed into Waterloo, whilst Corunua ex panded into Vittoria and Salamanca. We are not writing a military Plutarch—so we need not pursue the parallel in all its details. But we arc proud to remember that, when Napoleon was profuse in his distribution of crosses and embraces, Wellington was as work at his hospitals and his depot s . Napoleon won personal enthusiasm—Wellington earned universal confi dence. Napoleon was the idol of his soldiers —Welling ton was the friend of his army. N apo l eon made men aspire to the Legion of Honour or to a Marshal's baton —Wellington knew no higher reward then the thanks of the two Houses of Parliament. Wellington fought for his country—Napoleon for himself. Between them, as commanders, there was not, technically speaking, so much to choos e . E ach knew bow to wield his masses—each was perfect is mauceuvres—a each was a general o f absolute science. The British Commander w as slow in acq uiring confi dence—the French E m p eror was headstrong And un manageable in defeat. Time and experience did their work differently on each, h e cause they repres ented dis tinct mural principles. Wellington, in his final charges and his pursuit of v i c t ory en th e s l opes of Mont St. Jean, equall e d th e most b rilliant and i m petuous attacks of Napoleon in his best days ; but at Waterloo Napo leon had negle c t e d a general ' s first duty, for lie had not made the sli g h tes t prov i sion for a retreat. And that mighty conflict o f p r i nc i ples, as well as of armies, has re sulted in a thirty-seven years' peace, Waterloo was as much a moral as a military victory. A single further illustration will show this cardinal difference of morals in the two men and w ill account for their opposite fortunes. ler •• e allude to the contrast between the French an d the English treatment raw of levies. Napoleon used them up for the occasion — men wore to him as m us k ets, and nothing more._ Wel lington saw in his recruits, riot only materials for his immediate purpose, but responsible beings, whom it was his duty t o tra i n into efficient soldiers- An utter recklessness and di sregard of human l if e - characteristic of the on e p ol i cy —a painful an d anxious solicitude for the health an d consequent usefu l ness of the men was the guiding principle cf the other. Napoleoneifought battles, stormed towns, and laid waste sn--e_ e mn dis tricts with fire and sword to paralyze a nation— vl " W carug ton never fired a cannon but as a step in a planned j a ff s , paign. Torres Vt dras is the type of the British:: but too faithful an illustration of the French mind Nor is this moral contradi ct i on confine d to the, .ch merelywe mi litary contrasts develop e d b y the careers which 'tw o been contemp l at i ng. S oule made a splendid fortune s by robbery ; b ut there i s not a picture or a jewel in the e halls of Wellington or Bere s f or d , or Hill, which was not a gift or a purchase. Wellington saved Pam from the barbari an threats of Blucher—Nap we murdered the Due D'E nghien. And even in the sma ll est matters trace a lik e contrariety. Wellington endured patiently tho associated incapacity of Cuesta an d hi s S pan ish colleagues,.__ e it not without a murmur, at least without while Napoleon ostracised the talents cf Bernadotte. VCh ton had th e art to conciliate, by prudent tetePorisinge and ' sound jud gment, the most intractable of allies—he re duced th e J unta of Cadiz and theobstinacyof Madridto a her ' , less not ese dependence; while Napoleon c retain the train of monarchs who were in league with him. abiding and eternal less - on mighty and reconciler has awarded yinally—for these thinsg aro not without their kind—the great avengerto man rivals h• - end and rettiou tier]. 'a appropriate Napoleon died an exile and a prisoner—venting to each of these the bitterness of unrepented envy by leaving a legacy to the . i wreLen Who attempted Ow as isssination of his er!o!iqueror; l•ut it was reserved for Wellington to enter tain in tlii own hotr-r, and at a social banquet, the abhjet of rho French cvt,ins who had years before opposed h -itn in the field. Napoleon has left a name which at this moment, works as t he substanti al curse in . of his coitry ; wh il s t one universal 4 C-Lktin of blessing and honour from every British heart 'euthanasia of our noble ch ieftain. Until 4re motest time the fate of will point the moralist's Na ioleon I most indignant p>atire, and will mark the intrinsic hol lowness, vileness, and failure of ambition and tyranny ; but the most distant generat i ons will bound with delight at thee recollecti on of him who beat illustrated, under un paralleled di fficulties and temptat i ons , the commo n vir tues of honesty an d d uty, an d reverence for law, right, and tru•h) and loyalty and patriotism!. The one is the property of a fitful an d luridromancethe other laure lsbelont. to the calm dignity of • •fame. Blasted historic s fell on the Solitary tomb of St. ffelens; but the patriot's myrtle and the civic oakshall wreath the bier of our hero A ' A nd justly ; for Napoleon lived but for himself 6V L -11 i ngton work:A for all but himself. The highest ambition of Napoleon in his fall was- - Th " To dreg h 4 N acrid into the mi re with him ." The best reward of Wellington, after all his military glories, was but " To return home into life, and to become A fellow-man among his fellow-men." By (From ihe Daily IVeivs.) , 6 , 4 Duke of Wellington's death a rich batch of places .. falls into the lap of the Minister—places of the richest, and honours of the most showy and most co veted cics::. Vti'th the disposal of sore of these wind fallsthe ... + , . tAttilic have but little right to meddle—in re ference to Oth ers, i t is the i r se rious and urgent duty to interfere. Who shall have the newly-vacant Garter— whether my Lewd This or his Grace of That shall wear it is not the eff. • 1 The blue riband is one air otthe people, of those distin c tions much prized for its rarity; intended for the aristocracy, and in the dispos.. l of which the Crown and tic;Minister are exclusively entitled to decide. The same may, perhaps, be said of the two Lord-Lieu tenancies of Hampshire and of the Tower flanslets. These are offices in the peculiar gift of the Sovereign, and of her advisers for the time being—offices which can and may be allotted as seems hest to those in whose gift the law places them. The colonelcy in the Grenadier Guards, with its 1,200/. a year, will be a military perquisite—the Mastership of the Trinity - boson concerns Tower-hill. and the Chancellorship of Oxford will give a topic and a duty to the Dons of that ancient seat of unreformed learning. But after this concession, we must draw a die tinet line, and declare that all the other appointments now vacant have a p ecu li ar charac!er which renders the r e-dtspesal of them an affair of vital importance to the well-being of the conrery. Whilst the Duke of Wel lington lived nobody ever seriously thought of disturbing any of the offices in his peculiar possession. The country seemed neve r ti re d of rewarding him, as the round sums one after another voted to la" testify. After Badajo e z b by Parliament sufficiently and Salamanca they gave him 100,000/, to buy him pension iootn L f after u liTdo sumnleu '.Toulouse 4 2 0 0 0 0; 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 1 .. more; and after Waterloo p —besides voting him a his own life and ter the lives of his two next male' i heirs of 2,0001. a year, subsequently r a i se d to 4,0001., and Pension will ne p w ad frompa. no children, be id t th o e th C e on p s re o - - lidated Fund. Thi s sent Duke of Welli ngton, and, since h e h as a afterwards to Lord Ch ar l es Wellesley, sur vive his brother, an d, if not, to his heiri n shouldle he their father's titles, p ens i on , and great priv.atenhwereiatlitnhg, the children of the late Duke require no favours the Ministry, and he nce t h e di sposal of thevacant a" fro pointment is quite unfett ere d b y tiny personal claim - behalf of the Wellingto n f am il y . Would that noo al th o e n private influences were in the way; but since such r thin gs do exist, they must be met boldly and openly. Th e public service must not in this case be sacrificed to aid tho wheedle of the courtier, or to 'enhance the bribe of the partisan. The important post of Commander-in -Chief must be given to a thorough veteran soldier. We are told every now and then that our coasts are in danger; if they really were so, what we should do •if a carpet knight, an aristocratic routineist, or a mere martinet of the drill held the chief post of military power? We have seen in the career of the great soldier who has just passed away the vast importance of sterling practical ability for the active operations of war. Sir Arthur Wellesley became Commander. in-Chief because he was a victorious general; the history of the late Duke of York shows what come of appointments based on claims of another sort—claims of pedigree and family position. The Duke of York became Commander-in-Chief because he was son of a King. The one is •lEDOWiI 'by' Witerloo—the other by his melancholy failure in the Netherlands 'and his disgraceful proceedings with Mrs. Clarke. Nothing is more truly practical than war; in nothing is incompetence more fatal. Not only the safety of u great empire, but even the progress of civilisation itself, may be perilled by entrusting to wrong hands the military machinery organized for national purposes. To command armies veteran soldiers, not amiable princes, are wanted. We want, too, not only military experience and efficiency at the Horse Guards, but active military energy. We want army reform. We need real changes in present plans, not showy o- experi mental alterations of buttons and facings, but bond fide im provements in the dress and arming of our forces. The last thirty-seven years have made great military reforms abroad, some portion of which it would be well to have adopted here. These a new Commander should from old e xperience be able to appreciate, and with cam paigning promptitude be ready to adopt. Our loss of the Duke of Wellington must be, as tar as possible, made up by the wisdom exercised in the appointment of his successor at the Horse Guards. Prince Albert and the Duke of Cambridge have both been named by rumour as possible candidates for the vacant command. But Prince Albert already enjoys the military title of Field Marshal, and is tee well provided for to need the 161. Bs. 9cl. a day which falls to a Commander-in-Chief of his rank. The solid good sense ho has hitherto shown must surely point out to him why ho should not aspire to wield the baton resigned by the victor of Waterloo. In deed the rumour is too absurd. The Duke of Cambridge, too, must surely be content with the many advantages which his elevated birth has already secured to him. He would never do. Other vacancies suggest other evils that may come of improper appointments. The Lord Wardenship of the Cinque Ports should remain open till the jurisdic tion of tnat ancient office has been reformed; the post of Constable of the Tower must now, in accordance with former plans, be placed on proper footing. Need ful and proper changes being made, the first of these appointments may probably fall to the lot of the Prince Consort, and Walmer Castle become a second Osborne House. But this is a matter for the future—at present the chief need is, that Lord Derby should be reminded' of the onus now weighing upon him. This shower of pa tronage brings its duties equally with its gratifications; and whilst we concede to him the fullest freedom in the bestowal of the mere honorary distinctions, he must re member the national responsibility undertaken by the Minister who has to provide for national honour, secu rity, and welfare, and to guard against political opposi- tion and personal disgrace. (From the Norning Post.) The Duke of Wellington is no more. One of the greatest, noblest, and best lives .that history has ever been charged with recording for admiration and example has closed in such calmness, amid universal love and ho nour—after such long and steady preparation for death —as Providence seldom grants to those whom it employs as the leaders of men, the defenders of nations, the heroes of the battle field. The wide space of time daring which this wonderful mind was allowed to devote itself to the service of its country, and to brighten our age with great achieve ments, has had the effect, among other benefits, of bring ing men to one opinion as to the love, the reverence, and the gratitude, due from Eugland to one than whom none has ever served;ber with more honesty, wisdom,and courage —more with his whole heart—with purer mo tivos—or with a sounder conscience. To the great man himself this appreciation was of little moment. lie looked for no sentence from others to convince him that ho had done right. The perfect sagacity which prompted, the decision which nerved, and the resolution which supported, all hisiactions, sprung from a perfect clearness of mind, admitting of no after doubts, as it allowed no previous hesitation. But, for the friends of the great principles and high feelings which the Duke of Wellington upheld through out his long and unblemished life, it is a matter for thankfulness that he should have been spared to gain that general recognition of his true worth and nobleness —that verdict from the justice of time which the states man must too often be content to hope for rather than to enjoy. Time was when envy, party hatred, the spirit of mis chief, the pen of libel, and the tongue of calumny were busy enough about a name which, ere its owner left us, had become the most popular in England, the most honoured, as well as the most famous, in Europe. Another very rare and very great privilege enjoyed by this illustrious person was the unclouded and undis turbed state in which, to the very last, he retained the use of powers such as are rarely bestowed on humanity, and yet more rarely used with the constant and unrelent ing energy which were demanded by a career, including within its limits the rise of our Indian glory, the mas tery of our greatest military epoch, the lea ling and the responsibility of a war of giants, the chief conduct of the, settlement of 'Europe, and the first voice in home statesmanship, during years of fierce struggle, and through the stages of momentous change. Not only did the Duke of Wellington retain to the last'his: peculiar sagacity and steadiness of judgment, but he was able to the last to employ those qualities in the service to which they had ever been conscientiously and loyally devoted—that of his Sovereign and his coun try. Removed for many years, as the Duke had been, from all possibility of personal ambition—untainted by any possible suspicion of the petty motives of mere party politics, his part had long bean that of an arbiter and adviser in the Senate—of a most wise and faithful servant in his important office. It is happily nearly forty years since war, on a great scale, has demanded from this country the exercise of the unequalled military knowledge and qualities of command which the great Duke held at her ser vice; but we believe that, as regards those partial hos tile operations in which England has during that time been engaged, no steps were taken without the advice of this big heat living authority. Snowing how completely this has been the case, it can scarcely be doubted that the same mature mind which triumphed at Assaye will have had its weight and influence on the conduct of what we may hope will be the closing campaign of that long series of triumphs which is destined to complete our empire in the East. If this be so, and if, as we have heard, some of the very latest' working hours of the great Statesman and Con queror were busied with the progress of the Burme se war, we may fe e l that the s ame h ea d and hand that were active about the foundation of our mighty successes in India have mainly contributed to that completion which will probably carry the circle of our success to the very verge' of the Chinese Empire. Another tied a very different service of the "Duke's veteran wisdom will readily occur to most of our readers. Thay will, without doubt, remember h ow, en that memorable 10th of April, when England showed the world, how little chance democratic madness had egaiast th% sound sense and strength of her pe op l e, all rnea looked to and trusted in " The Duk e ' th e re fuge of law and order, the safeguard of authority, if by any strauwcand unio'oked-for turn of events, the name less dangers that 'wait on the triumphs of a mob b a d threatened London. Few will fail to call to miud Pew w h at wits generally known then, that, under the super intendence of the Commander-in. Chief, the military defence of every quarter and every street. in. London was organized stile the utmost perfection of detail, in such a manner, that the unseen force could, .at a mo ment's notice, have been brought iuto irresistible action. We will dwell no more an t h e particulars of a great ness so fresh in all m en ' s m i nds, nor will we dilate on a loss which all will feel who are not incapable of under standing standing the Noble and the Good. The Duke ho w no a household word among us. He was among the truly and and possessions of which his country was s his very justly proud. It is true that he bad reached reacefuny honours , fulness of time—that we lose bins gently a under every possible condition early the familiar the that ca n console us for - 0118— yet we shall miss fur In an i„ - We ' shall feel for sight and knowledge of " The Duke." goodness are gone many a day how much of wisdom iron" among us. We shall again to give to any long it will be before Godwonder for many a day how vouchsafe and keen—a nation to serve them a mind s°l, powe rfulble of the least doable heart so loyal and true— neB3 of purpose; or the brig i h n t e e la s . i 2 deviation from strict and absolute integrity. LOADJOHN RUSSELL AND THE BURGH OF STIR LING.—.The freedom of this ancient burgh is intended to be conferred on Lord John Russell, who is residing near Cal lender, on Monday next.— Edinburgh Courant. SPORTING NOTES. No. CCCVIIL TO MORROW'S RACES AT DONCASTER, STOCKWELL'S VICTORY, &c. TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN. B =i-7-The St. Leger is over, and the result has justi fied my remarks on it. Oa the 31st of July 1 threw out my first hints respecting it. announcing it as my opinion that the race would lie with Dania O'Rourke ' Songstress, and Stock we ll ; l oo ki ng to t h e last-named more par ticularly us the best. On the 16:h of August I pro mulgated the fact, that Songstress, having damaged her toot, was out of work; and according to ,my view then of the case thought her starting very improbable. In No. 304 of these notes, notwithstanding the immense favouritism given to Songstress—who was reported to have recovered from her accident and doing good work, which was not the case—and the de claration of Scott that he was sure of winning the Leger with one or other of his animals, I still withheld from the,mare my good opinion of her chance; and, as the stable seemed so certain of victory, I took Daniel O'Rourke as being the best of the twain; which notion was verified by the race of yesterday. My announce. ment respecting the jockey of Daniel O'Rourke, at the time opposed by nearly all my contemporaries, was cor rect; for Butler did tool Dan, though not to victory. With respect to Stockwell, I remarked, that he was " one of the most formidable looking horses in the entry. He stands sixteen hands, and is a splendidly built animal in every respect, with a tremendous stride." " I am tolerably well convinced that he will be either first or second;" and I concluded my remarks by stating that "my verdict must he in favour of Stockw e ll or Daniel O'R our k e ." I s h ou ld have gone unreservedly for Stockwell had it not been that the Milton stable seemed so very confident of winning. The r ace o f yesterday was a l most as extraor di nary as that o f V index ' s the day before. Immediately the start w he c ou ld make, with Harbinger and as his immediate te A u lf da red nts t Great was off at the best Stockwell pace he nu following, With and Trousseau ling u S p on t g h s e tr r e e s a s r. tog i t it h i e le r or no change occurred until within fifty yards of the Red House; h ere Alfred the Great was defeated, and Har binger tock first position, followed; by Stockwell and instantly af terwards new anythingfor Daniel, Songstress g o i ng well rushing to the front with alat" took 'pursuit; Daniel still in the third position, Harbinger in hot but easy. plaeo A s l t m oc o k s! l Trousseau having in the meantime passed Songstress. description. Stockwell, Who w e a rest requires hut little caught, won in the eesiest style ins a a / n n e L e i r e b a y f n e e r a w r ar l y d a s dozen lengths, Harbinger beating second place ; th en came Trousseau , Ae' a l e ngth f or thenr The time, Son gs t ress , and last of a ll Alf re d t h e Great, beaten 3 min. 21 see, with the ex cept i on of the deciding Heron's race, in Voltigenr's y ear , was t h e slowest since the race in 1845. • U mbriell won the Municipal Stakes so easily:that he was immediately afterw ar d s b ac k ed for the Dertey at 20 to 1. Cariboo's race for the Guineas was a completely one. sided affair, as his opp onents were not able to get e more than cantering exercise out of him. To-morrow's card is most attractive, no less than eight races and a match being set down for decision. The North of England Produce Stakes will be carried to Lord Eglintou's account, Claverhouso walking over. The Doncaster Stakes of 10 soya, each, with 100, last mile and a half, will, in all probability, be contested by not more than three or four, including ono from Scott's stable, probably Longbow, who will c a r r y o ff this stake with the greatest certainty. The Parkhill Stakes of 50 soya, each, h ft, one mile six furlongs and 132 yards, will attract to the post Bird on-the-Wing, Caloric, Glenluce, or Hirsuta—perhaps both—Galvanism, Ammonia, and Bay Rosalind. BIRD ON- THEMING and Mr. Payne's filly will be firs and second. A Sweepstakes of 200 soya, each, St. Leger Course, if Sackbut is not present, will be a walk over for the colt by Ithariel, out of Gipsy. The Don Stakes, it contested by Hobble Noble, will have HARBINGER and him first and second. As the weights are not out for the Nursery and Town Plates until this evening, it would be absurd for me to attempt to advise thereon. Tho Doncaster Cup, value 300 rove., Cup Course, about two miles and a half, it is expected, will produce a first-rate race, Teddington, Kingston, and Stilton being amongst the starters. I orne it will be a vory.close finish between these three and Carib)°, if he runs; and that KINGSTON and TEDDINGTON Will occupy the first and second places.—l am, Sir, fac., Sept. 16, THE SPIRIT OF THE TURF. SPORTING INTELLIGENCE. DONCASTER RACES. DONASTER, TUESDAY NIGHT, 12 O'CLCCIC. In our report sent from the course we had only time o refer briefly to the attendance; this, as we intimated, was fully up to the numerical average of the first day, the stand being as well filled as we have seen it on many St. Leger days, and the receipts exceeding last year by about 300/, being the largest ever known. In some re spects, however, there was an obvious falling off; the only ladies in the stewards' stand were Mrs. Lumley and Mrs. Milner, and the gathering of the aristocracy was small beyond precedent. We have nothing to speak of in the shape of alteration or improvement on the course; the offices are still miserably deficient, and the promised accommodation for the press has yet to be provided; we are bound, however, to compliment Mt. De Chesnel, the superintendent of the Electric Telegraph_ Company, on the success of his arrangements for the transmission of messages from the course. The instruments, by per mission of the corporation, are placed in the ground floor of the round stand—until within a few years used for weighing, &c.—within a few feet of the judge's chair, so that the issue of most of the races this afternoon were known in London, and other distant places, before the winning horse. had returned to the enclosure! Two or three clerks were kept in full employ throughout the afternoon. The betting-room has been. crowded to excess this evening, but business was never known to be so doll. Songstress, however, was in great and general demand, and the outlay so liberal, that at the close 6 to 4 was the highest offer against her. Very little was said or done about Stockwell, Daniel O'Rourke or Harbinger , but Trousseau was strangely knocked about, rallying, how ever, near 'the close from 100 to 6 to 10 to 1. WEDNESDAY'S RACES. Match; 200, h ft. Red-house in. Lord Clifden's P e li en , 2 yrs, Bst 71b (F. Butler) 1 Lord Glasgow's oh fby Don John, Est 131b(Charlton) 2 Betting -3 to lon Pelion. Pelion won very easily by a length. Run in 1 min. 12 sec. The St. Leger Stakes of 25 sous. each, for three yrs Bst 21b; the second to old; colts, Bst 71b ; fillies, re ceive 100 sovs. out of the stakes; the winner to pay 100 soya. towards expenses; 25 sovs. for the jud ge , and 25 for the starter. St. Leger course. (116 Subs.) Lord Exeter's Stockwell (Norman) 1 The Duke of Richmond's Harbinger (Flatman) 2 Mr. Bowes's Daniel O'Rourke . (F. Butler) 3 Mr. Pedley's Trousseau .................. (Templeman) 4 Mr. J. Scott's Songstress (A. Day) 5 Mr. Dancombe's Alfred the Great (Basham) 6 Batting at Starting -7 to 4 agst Stockwell, sto 2 agst Daniel O'Rourke, 3 to 1 agst Songstress, 7 to 1 agst Harbinger, and 10 to 1 apt Trousseau. The above prices, which are made up to the time of starting, varied in several instances from the quotations in the town. At one time, owing to a report that she was lame, Songstress declined to 5 to 2 and 3 to 1, and was quite friendless, Stockwell, on her decline, rising 7 to 2, Daniel O'Rourke to 3 to 1, and Harbinger to 6 to 1. About half an hour before the room was closed:a strong reaction took place, Songstress rising to 2 to I,i taken freely, and having a decided call of Lord Exeter's horse; Daniel O'Rourke receded to 7 to 2, but Harbinger remained steady at 6to 1. The start took pl ace a few minutes before three, Alfred the Great ja ean i n , off with a decided lead, followed in rotation, and ' at wide intervals, by Harbinger and Stockwell, Scott's two next nearly abreast; the pace as good as Alf red the Great could make it. No change whatever took place Great w a s until near the Red•honse, wher e Alf red the joined by Harbinger and Sto c k well, and immediately afterwards gave way. Harbinger then en Showed but was headed in a f ew strides by Stockwell, in front, Stockwell, who went on by himself, and won in a Harbinger beating Daniel canter by ten l e ngths, 3 min. 21 sec. outko by a length. Time, The Municipal Stakes of 200 S v old; colts, Bst 71b; 011ies• each, for two yrs s horse to save his s t a k e . Re - b , Sat 41b; the sec ond ouse Lord Derby' s U m b riel (F. BO.' ii,r) 2 (Ten39.t Mr. Payn e ' s W arwhoop ..(Flatman ) Mr. W. H. Brookes' Inc ens e - n) 3 Lord Glasgow's Deubl J• elarson) 4 5 to C Betting— etbong ............ ( • and on Umbriel , sto 2 va st lace nge , 3to 1 agst Donblethong 7 n if up the Warwho o p made th(7 . rnnning until a " ---wßy ite, who stand-raili ng , when he was joine d by the favourite, easily by er quitted him ajew strides from home, and w a length. Run in I min. 14'4". 04; for three yrs olsi Her Majesty's Plato of 100 gul Q nfeS s i e and aged, 9st 7st; four, Bst 51b; five, Bst 2b. Cup Comae. ..... .(Flatman) 1 Mr. Greville's Cariboo, 5 a Y fi r d Trenuburd (J. Manion) 2 Mr. R.E.Oliver'sSirßo wl (Charlton) 3 3 y rs by 'neon, Mr. C. M srso n A c Mr. B. Eddison's "(Simpson) 0 4 yrs Wasp, „ 5 'a3 Sir Ghtir e y rs (Bumby) 0 Mr. H. R° *; -- <ni Rec ommendat ion, 3 yrs --(Mishaps) 0 • Mr. Morris s Beco Captain Scott' s Allegro, y rs . Osborne) 0 Betting- 5 to 2 on Cariboo. The race w as scarce ly . Cariboo waiting on Sir Charles and Sir :ever in doubt, first three-quarters d Trenchard the Rowlan thusmsktng .t of the running and wi nning n canter Ran in 4 min. , 54 rec. by Aix leng The Doncaster Plate of 10 soya. each, h ft (handicep), with 70 added, for three yrs old and upwards; the second to save his stake. Red-house in. m r . E. Phillips's Truth, 4 yrs, Bst 81b (Templeman) 1 air. Armstrong's Sabra, 3 yrs, sst 21b 2 Mr. Worthington's Rachetes, sst Sib --(Carroll) 3 Mr. J. M. Stanley's Clincher, 5 yrs, Bst 81b (A. Day) 0 ,Mr. Jones's Prime Minister, Bst Sib ...(W. Sharpe) 0 Lord J. Scott's Turnus, 6 yrs, Bst 71b (Whitehouse) 0 Lord Derby's Croupier, 4 yrs, Bst 41b ...(Flatman) 0 Lord E7tinton's Claverhouse, 3 yrs, Est 121 b (Wells) 0 Mr. G. Osboree's Lady Agnes, 7st (J. Osborne) 0 Lord Chesterfield's Senorita, 3 yrs, Est 411) (A.shtt In Mr. Shepb er d son ' s f Ithuriel. sst 21b ...... (Batt 0 0 Mr. Marson' s R e b ecca co lt, s s t 21b (F. Mass,,, -s • 0 Betting-2 to 1 agat Truth, 4to 1 agst Senorita, h) lOO to 15 agst Primo Minister, 100 to 15 ugst h t oriel filly, and 8 to 1 agat Turnus. Won by a length; two lengths between second and third. Run in 1 min. 7 see. Seecpstakks of 10 sovs. each, h ft, and 50 added for two sirs old, 7st; three, 9st; fillies and - geldings al lowed 31b. The second saves his stake. Red House in. (14 Subs.) Mr. Merry's b c Llinbton, 2 era (J. Osborne) I Mr. S. Hewke's bf by Melbource, 2 yrs; (Hiatt) 2 t Mr. Wilkin's Peggy, 2 yrs (Aldcrott) 0 -'ciSMatile Mr. Knapton's St Andrew (T. Sherwood) 0 Mr. Jaques's Anehinleck, 2 yrs (Wells) 0 Lord Clifd * n ' s Multsirs, 2 yrs (G Mann) 0 Mr. E. R. Clark's Little 5 , 4 at 2 yrs t... .(Charlton) 0 Mr. Chilt on ' s Audubon, 2 rs. (Carroll) 0 Betting ---7 to 4on Lan2bton, and sto leach agst Little Swift and A ud' 2 boo- Won in a canter by two lengths. We have only time to add that notwithstanding the wretched state of the weather —the rain never having ceased since one o'clock —the concourse on the course was immense, being wofnlly detlc'ent, however, in fashion. THE EGLINTON STAKES. Vindex is declared to carry 61b overweight, in addi tion to the penalty; he will be ricloien by Flatniat. LATEST BETTING. (BY ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH.) DONCASTER CUP. 7to 4 agst Kingston (t) I sto 1 a gst Stilton 7 to 4'agst Teddington (t) CESARE WITCH. 11 to 1 agst Lady Evelyn 25 to 1 Rat Lindrick (t) 12 to 1 agst Le Juif 30 to 1 agst Mra. Birch 25 to 1 agst Waterfall (t) 30 to 1 agst Kt.of Shire(t) CAMBRIDGESHIRE. I I 25 to 1 agst H yac i nth 2 2 5 5 t t o o g a Silt get Ephesus 125 30 to 1 agar Trousseau COURT CIRCULAR. BALMORAL, SEPT. 14. I Her Majesty-drove yesterday afternoon, -accont nulled by. the Princess Royal, Princess Alice, and Princess Helena, to Invercauld-house, and remained there during the afternoon. - ' The Countess of Desert was in - attendance on her Majesty. Ills Royal Highness Prince Albert went out deer stalking. - 4nsthe evening her Majesty and his Royal Highness .Prince Albert were present at a ball given at Aber geldie by her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent to the tenantry and servants on the estate. The Countess of Desert, the Hon. Mary Seymour, and Lieut.-Colonel Hon. A. Gordon were in attend ance in waiting. Archdeacon Tattam has arrived at Balmoral, and had the honour of dining with her Majesty yesterday. • (From the New Yo r k H erald o f the in DEATH OF MISS LAURA: A b 4 b th is s o t rr. ) Miss Laura Addison, an English, actress, who ar rived a few months since in this country, :died sud denly on the morning of the 2'i inst., on board the steamboat Oregon, on her passage from Albany to this city. The deceased bad been •to Niagra Falls for the benefit of her health, accompanied by Mr. James Mason, in whose family she bad been residing for some time past. On the arrival, of the b oa t t h e body was t a k en b y th e brother of ie deceased to hi s residence, No. 230.,,Sullivan•street, with the consent of Coroner Ivee, who will this day, at ten o'clock, bold an inquest. Miss Addison performed one en r gagEMent at the Broadway Theatre in this city, and one in Boston or Ph*lla de 1p his Owing to the state of her h ealth, she Wasthen obliged to leave the stage. examination on the bod y, Yesterday, minds of the relatives at thwearsequest of the sister of the de ceased,nsurgeon 23m0 surgeon, called to hold a pest mortem . death. Accordin g l y threespecting the real cause of as suspicions rested in the roner, accompanied by Dr. Lidell, the post mortp day morning to No. Sullivan -street, with a view of making the necessar Miss Addison had been repomveselstnfroamnd to their surprise, they ascertaiyneldnvestigation, when, secoontdhers, who t he went ho u y s e e s ttehr the the body of previous afternoon, by Mrs , Avenue caused the same to be buried in , the burying-ground. 1 The following statement bus been made to the co roner by the relatives :==Mrs. Howard, the ' sister of deceased, a married lady, residing at No. 230, Ludlo w-street, it seems received, on Wednesday, a telegraphic dispatch from Albany, informing her that Miss Addison had, that day, at about one 'o'clock, expired, and for her to meet the btdy on the arriv a l of the steam-boat Oregon. The result was that the body was conveyed to the residence of the sister. But from certain curious movements alleged to have been made on the part of those who accompanied the deceased, the relatives deemed it advisable to have a post mortem examination made . of the body, to ascertain, if possible, the true cause of death. The sister thereupon called on Dr. Fleet, her family physician, and wished him to meke the examination. The doctor declined doing so, and advised her to apply to the coroner of the county for that purpose, if she entertained any suspi cion that the deceased bad come to her death by any foul means ; hence the application was made to co roner Ives. The sister of deceased further says, that on Thursday afternoon several gentlemen came to the house and insisted upon the burial of the body t among them Mr. Ring, a lawyer, who told her that if she allowed a post mortem examination to be made in her house she would be subjected to a fine of 1,000 dollars. The sister remonstrated with the gentlemen for their hasty manner of disposing of the body, and she informed them that the coroner had been notified to hold an inquest. Several of the gentlemen then spoke up and said that if she refused to give her con sent, they would remove the body away by force. Mrs. Howard finding ultimately it was useless to pro test against the removal of the body, consented to their wishes ; but she followed the body and saw it deposited in a vault in the Second Avenue burying ground. The Coroner, on the facts as above stated, ordered a police officer to guard the vault, and not allow any body to be removed unless by his permission. The body of deceased will be exhumed, and the proper legal investigation made by Dr. Lidell. We are in formed that Mr. Mason, Counsellor Ring, and sever a l others, have been subpoenaed to attend the inquest. i t t s e e r d . Since the above w as i n t ype we h ave seen Mr. J ames J. Ri ng , w h o h as placed us in possession of Mr.. usl.. Ring n y iontgbesra doubt,yf a s c tt t shh the in tnf true o t r h i s s ov l me a r m es i e o n u t a o bf monthsl e t hae pastff affair, r th , hoe a l e me n d gi v endeea had been travelling with Mr. and Mrs. on the brain; after a short time she Herewith feversuffi ciently she again was taken ill, during which time she was attended by the best physicians to be found ' ticipated ; however, she recovered su ffici e ntly wastob . ears recovered d n I and in the vicinity, who informed her friends that much da n g er s e h n e ab w le as he t r ak to en p a ro o c w e n ed si a csk e an t; , fa a r nd as ae a raving maniac ; but on Monday last she rallied somewhat, and it was deemed advisabl e by the phy— sicians to proceed on to New York, as 3 000 85 p a " BtiUmffeaslobe•chameree almostagain sible, as her ultimate recovery was considered hopeless. On Monday lair, and Mrs. Mason proc ured the most comfortable accommodations on the cars, and arrived in Albany on Tuesday morning. Several of the first class hotels were applied to, but the proprieto rs .t re fused to admit the deceased in the house, as did l w as that feared she had the choler a , arriving us they dr. Mason ascertaining it morning from Buffalo. attain a dmittance in a hotel, they Was impossible to ob--- a proceeded - forthwith to the s team-boat Oregon, then lying at the duel. . that - , a d ve rtised to leave evening at York. The captain of the boat 7 o'clock for New gentlemanly received the deceased very humanely andrev-idea the best of attention for the on board, and provided un fortunate sufferer ; there were also comfort of attendancetie s everal eminent physicians, who admi nistered in all their power towards her - recovery; but, effect as death ensued about one o'clock alas! to ee that a fternoon. The body was then conveyed t o this hadlready an d as decomposition o f t he b o dy city, e ar advanc ed, ed it was deemed advisabl e by M r . Ri ng and Mr. Mason that the body should b e pl ace d i n a receiviag vault. Accordingly the funeral was an nounced, the Rev. Mr. Anthon performed the sacred rites on the occasion, and the body was deposited in the private vault owned by Mr. Ring in the Sec on d Avenue burying-ground. The rumoured report that the deceased had met her cruel death by some foul mea ns , M r . Ri ng asserts, is in the extreme ; on th e contrary, Mr. and Mrs. Mason had done all in their power that ev for them to d o , w ith th e f ond hope of . 5 5 possible b restore her once more t o h ea l th ; but eing able to , according to the opinion of the best medical evidence, the fever had completely destroyed her rea under its fatal effects. m r. 8", and she sank Ling further adds that no objection was ev e r made t o a post mortem exami nation of the body at a delay the obsequies on th,4 dp,roper, season, l bat lgo ve t r t° facility sill be given by Mr ey ß o .n t the funeral. Leery the friends of ;he d,7re,,,.5e.: 1111 ' 1 the.' towa rds nhli 0 mind, that the death was Obe of natural " P The certi fi cates causes. of several of the physician s deceased who attended the will be procured, and exhibited to the coroner this day. NEW HARNESi FOR HER MAJESTY's CARRlAGE vesterday had the pleasure of inspecting a set of harness for the carriage horses of her Majesty, just finished by Mr. Kay Dinsdale, of 314, Oxford-street. It is executed in an entirely new ornamental style, remarkable for the chasteness and elegance of its effect. The distinguish ing novelty of the decoration is the quill embroidery, which has never before been employed for this purpose, and which, on its jet-back basis of patent leather, has a singularly beautiful appearance. In this case the material is cheap enough, but the cost of working it in must be Very great, from the amount of labour involved. The pattern, which is a rich arabesque of flowers and foliage. is first drawn or stamped on the leather, which has then to be carefully pierced by hand with innumerable little slits or holes, through which the strips of quill are drawn, and secured on the re verse side. 'Tbe bead-stalls or pads bear the royal cypher, within a border of roses, thistles, and shamrocks. The harness is silver-mounted; on the bosses are the royal arms and the imperial crown, richly chased. The effect of the whole is tasteful and rich in the highest degree compatible with the design and character of an article intended for real work, and not fir show only. We cannot doubt that a style of execu tion so comblete and appropriate will ensure it extensive patronage. TELEGRAPHING THE: S T . L tGEB .--Yesterdny, by means of wires taken up to the racecourse at Doncaster, the result of the run was communicated within five minutes to all the principal places in the kingdom for the local papers and betting houses. '8 3 4 p )11. AY.) CCU' PI k 0.