The Sun. — London, England, 1837-12-25 00:00:00

LITERATURE. WALLACE; A TRAGEDY. This tragedy was composed about eighteen years ago, an d was only published a few months since, by Messrs. y ' - '° l lgman and Co. It is the production of Murdo "'lug, Proprietor and Editor of The Sun, and for these reasons has not, of course, been noticed in this Juurnal_and wherefore now ? Simply for this con sideration : it has been suggested by a friend that, as zany of the liberal sentiments advocated by the con ductors of the True Sun and supported by its readers had been entertained by the Author eighteen years a go, and acted upon ever since, it might be gratifying t 0 his new readers to learn that, in supporting The 'Sun, they do not forego their own principles, but, on the contrary, stimulate their influence by aiding a flan who is not now likely to forsake that straight-for bard course of independence which it has ever been his pride, but not always his interest or comfort, to pursue. MoNTerru.— The daring spirit of the Northi dead, Or only lives to haunt her children's dreams. The patriot wakens in a land of slaves, — Where party-jealousies and bloody feuds Are still fomented by designing traitors , Our greatest barons court the oppressor's smiles With such humility, that Edward marvels How Henry paused with England at his back— And saw a Sovereign on the Scottish throne Too proud to pay him homage. WALLACE.— I could tell him ! With this true sword whose temper ne'er deceived me— I could tell Edward that our sires were men Who gloried in their birthright. Men who flew Like rock-bred eagles to the song of battle ; And hailed the naighty Conflict in their souls With the stern joy that freedom's warriors feel. They rush'd triumphant, like the mountain torrent Exulting in its foam.—You must not marry. (To Kirkpatrick.) EXTRACTS. I fear ELIZA.—Not marry ? WALLACE._ No !.—while Scotland is enslaved. No man should marry till his country's free : But let the sword of vengeance Le till then His blushing bride I —Are we in Caledonia And see the stranger stalk along her fields As if they were his own ?-0 memory ! Why didst thou widow hope wheu I was born, And make me turn from dark futurity To gaze upon thy picture, bright with glory ? But what is Scotland now ?—Unhappy land ! Would my brave countrymen but feel their shame, And once abate that discord of opinion, Which mars the only good true wisdom aims at— Then would the cause of Independence rear Its victor crest ; and see its joyous bands Chase those proud spoilers from our ravaged country, Or crush them in their strength. SCENE 111. * * o a o o CRAiIAI.I.—• Floremma, where is Wallace? PLoRKmmA. —You cannot find him in this thundering storm. %ARAI!. Speak not of storms, but tell me where he is. ELlzA.—Be not impatient, gentle Graham ; but wait Till morning— CRARAM.— What?- 401tEMMA.—Thestorm increases,—hark I ( Thunder.) That awful peal might daunt the bravest spirit; And sober even madness. There 1 (Lightning.) 0 Graham ! The harbinger of heaven forbids your daring— And frowns— GRAHAM.— Away !—the fears of womanhood.— That is the torch of heaven to light my path—(Another And that deep thunder is the voice of God peal.) Cheering the patriots' valour on to battle ! What should I fear when Caledonia calls, And heaven's red standard floats unfurl'd—to arms I My soul is mighty in the joyous hope Of living glory, and my country's freedom. But now I dream :—O Wallace 1 wert thou here— PLohmstala.—l would he were, to pacify your temper : For he is calm as midnight solitude In silent caves. RLIZA.— Yet have I seen him moved— Like the deep ocean warring with the tempest; And mock at danger. Danger damps not him, — Nursed with the eagles by the blasts of heaven : And in the wild sublimity of joy, Responding to their music !-- FLOREMAIA.— He is brave I GRAHAM.—And tender too.—l wish he were thy husband. Nay, blush not. It would give me such delight As woman feels when singled from a group Of rival beauties, by a monarch's favour.— * a GitAnAm.—Novr tell me, where is Wallace ? PLORE. A. Stay, 'tis dark. I'll send a guide. GRAHAM.— Go, lead the blind I Floremma. I want no guide. Name but his resting place— If mountain, vale, moor, wood, or misty stream, The haunt of witching elves at shadowy eve : Or wizard cave, where midnight demons murmur Their nameless orgies in the ear of silence,— • • • • I know each scene of wild romantic beauty, Where magic breathes, or strains of rapture break On wonder's ear—amid the solitude. I know each scene of popular tradition, Vcil'd by the hallow'd wing of mystery— And peopled by the spirits of our fathers, Who, bending from yon purple cloud of vengeance, Call forth their children to the battle field. Ft OREIiII4A.—I tremble at the fancy. Et .12A. So do I. CE.RAHAISI.—So do not I I—So never trembled Wallace, Endeared by danger's emulous adventures, Familiar in the page of memory, But where is he ? PLOREIIidA. Closo by the bill of storms I C•am-AJl.—Ten is he safe I—The torrent's leaping foam Shall light ma thither. Fare you well ;—but mind— Speed with the dawn, and sound the name of Wallace, Joined with revenge and Scotland's independence 1 And nen will arm who never dreamed of battle— And maids will weep 'twixt love and patriotism, But hush their fears when Wallace waves his sword ; And boys will burn to march beneath his banner, — For I have seen him kiss them when but babes, And weep such beauty born to be enslaved ! ( Going.) 41. LOREMMA.—(Detaining him) 0 speak on still 1 'tis musicfor the soul. P GRene.m.—Yes, I have seen him weep when others smiled To see the peasant lead his blushing bride From Hymen's altar, to beget more slaves ! Then would deep feelings hurry him away From human haunts, to roam the mountain wilds, And startle nature in her stormy dwelling. There would ho mark the eagle's sweep through heaven And wish for liberty's proud wings to follow. Then turn from throned sublimity, to gaze On God's creation stretch'd immense around— And ask what curse denounced the lord of all To be the slave of Edward's damn'd oppression (Eveun SCENE IV.-A WOOD: WITH PRECIPITOUS ROCKS AND CATARACT IN THE REAR. (WALLACE, KIRKPATRICK, LuNDIE, and others discovered on the skirt of the wood ; and men behind.) XIRKPATRICK.—Our wrongs are great. I dare not name my woes I The wretch whose tongue can garnish out his sorrow With apt expression, feels not grief like mine. I have no words to set my anguish forth. I 'm like a king—supreme in misery— But scorning pity 1— WAar,Ac E . Pity dwells not here ! We ask no pity, and we give no quarter. Enter GRAHAM. '9 1 4. HAM.--That's bravely spoken;-I'm your friend till death. *AL. t d , c E . —Welcome the Graham I Enter MmerErrll. koNTEt , Tu. —Undaunted Wallace, hear me a English army is in quest of you, Bei lied by Cressingham, the fiery priest ; Wh o sets a price of value on your head— i)et muncing all as traitors who befriend you. f II reps. —Then we are traitors all ! 1 :; 1 eN behind.)— And so are w e ! Ar, -T. kcp,.—Thankg, countrymen ! my spirit weeps for joy. I lee the dawn of Scotland's independence eron in your eyes and lighten in your swords ( Kneeling) Almighty God ! whose vengeance sleeps not .ever, (All kneel.) Lleatem my fallen country from her bondage, knd break the oppressor's spear. In us behold Thy willing servants :—in so good a cause We do invr‘ke thy bles:;ne: on our arms ! I feel thy spirit burning in my soul To set my country free. (Rising.) MONTEITH.—Friends, countrymen, I would propose de- To any man who violates our faith. [struction The priest's reward is great, and may tempt meanness To quit the path of honour. WALLACE.— Meanness dwells not In freedom's band.—One heart we boast, and true. Are we not true ? THE CHIEFS.— True, true, true, true ( MEN behind.)— WALLAcE.—AII true ! I said so. MONTEITH.— I am satisfied. True, true ! Lightning and deep thunder.—A dead pause.) WALLACE.—Our prayer is ratified !—My countrymen I Shall we be slaves, while ocean, earth, and air Teem with unfettered being ?—Look around, — And nature's works call out to man—Be free ! And shall creation's voice be heard in vain, While God himself is present in the storm To aid our cause ?—Behold, through nature's range, Each several passion hath a fellow brother, And kindred feeling. Love begets esteem, — Joy gladness—and the throb of hope desire: The tear of sorrow draws the sigh of pity, And stern oppression quickens dread revenge. Tread but the worm, it turns ; the dog, it bites,— Prick the proud horse, he kicks; the bull pursues. All true to nature, and as God bath made them : All, all but man, the rebel 1 He alone Mores on the earth, its glory and its shame ! Look at the slave—the image of his God, Crouch in the dust before his brother man— Degraded and degrading I —lashed with scorn For mere excess of dastardly obedience, And tame endurance :—wearing out his chain Or sinking with it, buried where he falls— To rise at last with thraldom's curse upon him, And stand before his God I—lt must not be. The people's murmur shall be heard and felt. Man was not made to worship tyranny, And shall he die its votary ?—To arms! And shame the sons of Scotland to be free. (Exeunt.) ( SCENE, A HEATH—WALLACE MEETING BRUCE.) • • a r • WALLACE.-0 Bruce ! can indignation hold To meet my King—a wanderer—and alone— Where he should reign with freemen pressing round him I BRUCE.—That day may come; but 'tis not yet— WALLACE.— At hand This is the day. Your people are in arms, And rush with ardour on the scattered foe, In town and castle—storming all before them. BRUCIL—Oh, may Heaven prosper those who would be free 1 Nature revolts at bondage. The poor slave, To hide his degradation from himself, Imagines scenes of liberty by day, Which he enjoys in slumber's chainless vision— And is a man again l—You are impatient : Well—so am I ; but dare not join you now. My life is pledged upon a quick return, And I must speed ; or some will suffer for me Whose lives I hold more precious than my own. Now God be with you I—You will hear from me. (Going.) WALLACE.—Actions, not words, we want to fight our battles. Stay, Bruce, a moment—since you will not join us. BRUCE.—You know I cannot, Wallace I—Press no more. WALLACE.—Have you a heart can bear the stamp of shame ? (Floremma and Eliza passing the heath at the head of the peasantry.) Behold the daughters of the North in arms! Urging the warriors or. with bosoms bare 1 Go, Bruce, and tell your master that you saw them, And England's daughters will pluck out your eyes, To save such sights in future 1 They will scorn you— For beauty's heart is brave as well as tender. Behold a living proof—to shame your manhood, And animate the dust 1 BRUCE.-- What can I do? Wo.m.scs.—Say, Bruce, what can you not? Would you be Display some other title to that honour, [King? Superior to your lineage. Draw the sword, Like me your subject, and my brave compatriots : Assert your liberty, and mount the throne 1 BRUCE.—You know my inability. WALLACE.— I know You have the means, but want the heart to use them. Aro you a Scot? By heaven 1 you wrong the name. To tie the tyrant's chain about your neck, And look in Edward's face without a blush Your tameness maddens me 1— What can you do ? Behold that heath as still as midnight slumber ; But let the breeze with kissing welcome rise— And every stalk in emulation dances Harmonious to its music !—So would Scotland Start up in arms—to see her monarch wave The stirring banner of departed freedom O'er hill and vale of martial memory 1 0 FLOREMMA.—My mind was wandering through infinity ; But holding one dear object still in view That might not be o'ertaken. Yet my heart Could still pursue—though certainty for ever Denied its fond possession to my hope— So much am I enchanted. ELIZA.— Wallace stlil ! But we shall meet him soon again, Floremma. F L OREMMA.—He's ne'er so much with me as when he's abseil' When I'm alone—then he indeed is with me, The guest of mind arrayed in fancy's glory ! Oh, then I bless him in my soul's enjoyment Dwelling upon his look, voice, motion, being— That all the nameless attributes of love That first enchant—then sway the willing heart ! Sleeping, imagination sees him still As if he stood before me. In his presence I cannot speak : The tumult of my breast Denies me utterance, even on simple matters. But when he speaks, I tremble through my soul Listning in fond emotion to his voice. Like quivering leaves kissed by the breath of heaven 1 Oh I 'tis a joy too deep in woman's heart To trust the tongue with but you know it all. • • WALLACE. —Wo must dispose.—What think you of an ambush? LUNDIE.—'TwiII never do. WALLACE.— Then what would you propose ? LUNDlE.—Nothing would please you ;—for my heart is sad. WALLACE.-But victory will cheer it.—Now advise me. LUNDIE.—Say, will you listen while I speak the truth ? WALLACE..--d never am impatient then. You are, When truth runs counter to your wish fur battle. WALLacs.—That wish will eease when we have freed our I cannot bear to see a conqueror, here, [country. And wear my sword.— LUNDIIt. 'Twill be of little use. I think it madness to hold out so long : And deem submission, since vouchsafed with pardon, The better course. WALLACE (impatiently). —The bettor course—submission And pardon too LUND'S.— 'Twill spare much precious blood. WALLACE.—Are you resolved ? LUND'S.— On prudence and to spare— I WALLace.—A freeman's life, to lose it as a slave I Lursnie.—l will not be a slave. WALLACE.-- What can you he, If tyrant masters lord it o'er your country ? Can you be free to move, or speak your mind, While Edward's jealous sword hangs o'er your head ? Lvriom—He lords it not so harshly as to thwart Our proper bent or actions. W A LLACE. Lord it harshly ! Why should he lord at all ?—There's the curet sting Which mocks forbearance with imbittered scorn. LUNDIR.—We only bear the evil, for a time Of retribution. WALLACE. Now's the time I with me -- The apprehension of reproof cuts more Than just rebuke. What shall a tyrant thwart Our proper actions in our native land? The thought were slavery enough I But, Wallace, LUND'S.— Our band is yet too weak : we start too soon. War.r.AcE. Vie cannot start too soon to grasp at freedom, And break our chains upon the oppressor's head. Freedom's a thing too precious to be thought of, And not enjoyed Luisnre.— But if we start too soon, We miss our aim, provoking greater vengeance Upon our failure. WALLACE-- Think not so, good Lundie. The tyrant's wrath cannot o'ertako the brave Who fall for freedom. LUND'S.— But they who survive Will feel his rage the more. WALLACE.— And they'll deserve it— If any base enough outlive his freedom, Who said.—/ will be free. —You would not choose To live a supple slave in your own lnd, Boasting your father's independence—would you? (TO BE CONTINUED. ) ION: A TRAGEDY. Moron, London, 1837. As this tragedy has reached a fourth edition—a popularity which it well deserves—it is useless to ex- THE SUN, LONDON, MONDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1837. patiate either on its excellences, or its occasional defects, arising chiefly from luxuriance and obscurity of metaphor; we may, however, say a word or two on the sonnets which are now, for the first time, attached to the edition. These are modelled in their sentiments, and even in the structure of their versifi cation, on the similar productions of Wordsworth ; and are, we incline to think,- Mr. Talfourd's most successful achievements in poetry—and for this reason, that being limited in their character, consisting only of fourteen lines, they compel him to restrain that ten dency to excessive amplification which " Ion" exhibits in every page. The subjoined sonnet, suggested by a view of the Forbury—that is, the play-ground of Reading school—is exquisitely finished ; profound in sentiment, and graceful in expression. " Soft uplands, that in boyhood's earliest days Seem'd mountain-like and distant, fain once more Would I behold you ; but the Autumn hoar Bath veil'd your pensive groves in evening haze; Yet do I wait till on my searching gaze Your outline lives—more dear than if ye wore An April sunset's consecrating rays— For, even thus the images of yore Which ye awaken glide from misty years Dream-like and solemn, and but half unfold Their tale of glorious hopes, religious fears, And visionary schemes of giant mould ; Whose dimmest trace the world-worn heart reveres, And, with love's grasping weakness, strives to hold." Our only objections to this sonnet are that, to the best of our recollection, it is inaccurate in its scenic allusions. The " uplands" viewed from the Forbury are neither " mountain-like," nor " distant," nor can they be made so by any process of the imagination with which we are acquainted. Again, there are no " groves" in the landscape, but, on the con trary, a vast expanse of open meadow land, bounded by the low chalk hills of Caversham. These are trival blemishes, perhaps, but they are as well avoided—the more especially as Mr. Talfourd's idol Wordsworth is remarkable for the rigid accuracy of his local details. The dedication of " Ion" to Dr. Valpy—who since its publica tion has been gathered to the great and good of past ages—is a noble specimen of mingled eloquence and sensibility ; and to our thinking, by far the best of its author's prose compositions. The preface is also penned in a graceful and conciliating spirit ; and does no more than justice to Mr. Macready's praise worthy efforts to raise the character of the drama, and to discourage every blandishment except those by which Art embodies the conceptions of Genius." THE MODERN PYTHAGOREAN. 2 "Vols. Blackwood, Edinburgh, 1837. The " Modern Pythagorean" is a re-publication of several clever tales and sketches, chiefly of a hu rnourous character, which have appeared from time to time in the pages of " Blackwood's Magazine." Mr. Macnish is the author—a young man of considerable powers of fancy and humour, who was cut off the other day in the very prime of life, just as he was about realizing the most sanguine prognostications of his literary friends. His Memoirs, written by his friend and admirer, Mr. Moir—well known as the " Delta" of " Blackwood"—form the first of the two volumes, and do credit to the good sense and affectionate zeal of the biographer. They contain little incident, for the lives of authors are in general monotonous to a degree, and are chiefly interesting from their ample literary correspondence, which shows Mr. Macnish's head and heart in a very favourable light. The most amusing portion of the Memoirs, is where this author, then scarcely .fledged, describes his sending off his first lite rary communication to Christopher North, and the state of anxiety he was in, until the fate of his packet was sealed. He contributed at first, it seems, under the l fictitious name of " 4 Mackay Gordon," being ap prehensive that his contribution would be rejected. Greatly, however, to his surprise and delight, it be came exceedingly popular, and drew forth a host of imi tators. From this period until within a few weeks of his death, he continued to send occasional articles to " Blackwood;' and found leisure also, despite his pro fessional avocations as a surgeon, to publish two works on " Drunkenness" and " Sleep," both of which met with great success, and procured him a diploma from one of the colleges in America. The second volume of the " Modern Pythagorean" is composed of various original tales and sketches, the two best of which are, we think, the " Barber of Gottingen," and the " Red Man"—the last of which we remember reading in one of the Annuals a few years since. LE BIJOU LITTEI?AIRE. Simpkin and Marshall, London. • A useful elementary work, chiefly intended for schools, containing a variety of historical anecdotes, and moral extracts, selected from the productions of the best French prose writers and poets. Mr. Victor Martin is the author of this compilation, and appears to have executed his task with taste and judgment. HOLMES ON CONSUMPTION, &c. Hol!worth, London. This is a work chiefly devoted to the consideration of those various diseases which are apt to affect the lungs, and which, if not checked in time, have gene rally a fatal termination by means of consumption. The author, Mr. Holmes, is a medical gentleman of much practice and experience in his profession, and his remarks, therefore, deserve attention. FINE ARTS. We have just seen a portrait of her Majesty, Queen Victoria, which has been engraved by Freebairn from a model furnished by Weigall. It is an excellent like ness-.—though we must confess we have seen more faithful ones—and, as a work of art, shows much skill and delicacy of execution. The publisher of this en graving is Jennings, who has brought it out in a very convenient form, and at a price calculated to make it generally popular. ( ADVERTISEMENT. ) GRAND JUNCTION RAILWAY. The Directors regret to state that a temporary interruption has occurred this morning (Friday) in the communication with Birmingham, in consequence of the flood, which was more ex tensive than has been known for twenty years, having swept away a culvert on the Arpley embankment, about a quarter of a mile from the station at Warrington. Some apprehensions had been entertained by the engineer on that part of the line for the safety of the culvert in question owing to the sudden rise of the waters, and to prevent the possibility of accident to the trains, watchers were stationed and fires kept lighted along the embankment during the whole of the night. The accident occurred at one o'clock this morning (Friday), when measures were immediately taken to restore the communication, which will be effected in the course of to-morrow. In the meantime the mail trains will depart as usual, the passengers being sub ject only to the inconvenience and detention of changing car riages a t the spot where the accident occurred. JOAN MOSS, Chairman. Liverpool, Dec. 22, 1837. LAISIBETN VESTRY.--CHURCH-RATE REFUSED. __A vestry was held on Saturday morning, for the purpose of making a Church-rate—this being the day generally chosen by the authorities. in consequence of its being the most incon venient in the whole year for the greater portion of the trading rate-payers. The Dissenters were defeated last year, after a severe struggle, when an enormous sum was obtained for the support of the old church during the twelvemonth. At ten o'clock, the Reformers assembled, in spite of every disad vantage, in considerable numbers ; and a few minutes after, the Chair being taken by the Rector's Wardell, the Anti. church-rate party moved an adjournment of the meeting until next December. The doors were consequently closed, and the motion for adjournment was carried by a large majority. The rate being thus refused, it remains with the church party to take some other course for obtaining the requisite supply. The Scotsman says, a report has been circulated within the last few days, that it is the intention of Captain J. E. Wemyss to retire from the representation of Fifeshire. Ws have made inquiries respecting the truth of this rumour, in quarters likely to be well-informed, and, from all we can learn, it seems to be wholly without foundation, COURT CIRCULAR. The Queen went in State on Saturday to the House of Lords, to give her Royal Assent to the Civil List Bill. At half-past twelve o'clock the Royal procession was formed in the following order :—A carriage, drawn by six grays, conveying the Hon. Fred. Byng and two other Gentle men Ushers and the Exon of the Yeomen of the Guard in Waiting. A carriage, drawn by six bays, conveying Captain Seymour, Groom of the robes ; Lord Kilmarnock, Page of Honour; and Colonel Greenwood, Silver Stick in Waiting. A carriage, drawn by a set of hays, in which were the Hon. Colonel Grey, Equerry in Waiting ; Master Cavendish, Page of Honour ; Mr. Rich, Groom in Waiting ; and the Hon. Colonel Cavendih, Clerk Marshal. A carriage, drawn by six bays, containing the Treasurer of the household ; Lord Hill, Gold Stick in Waiting ; and the Captain of the Yeomen of the Guard. A carriage, drawn by six black horses, con veying Viscount Falkland, Lord in Waiting ; the Lord Steward ; the Countess of Mulgrave, Lady in Waiting ; and the Marchioness of Lansdowne, First Lady in Waiting. The state coach, preceded by the Queen's Marshalmen, two and two, the Queen's Footmen, in state liveries, two and two, and by a party of the Yeomen of the Guard, in full costume. The Queen was conducted from the State Rooms to the coach by the Marquis of Conyngharr., Lord Chamberlain, preceded by Lord Charles Fitzroy, Vice-Chamberlain, her train, of crimson and velvet ermine,being borne by Lord Kil marnock and Master Cavendish, the pages of honour. Her Majesty wore a splendid circlet, stomacher, and ear-rings of diamonds, with the riband and star of the Order of the Gar ter, and an armlet having the motto of the most noble Order. The dress was white, with deep bullion fringe. In the car riage her Majesty wore a long tippet of ermine. Opposite to the Queen sat the Master of the Horse, and the Duchess of Sutherland, Mistress of the Robes. A Guard of Honour of the Coldstream Guards were on duty in front of the Palace, with the band of the regiment, and received her Majesty with the usual honours. The State procession was escorted by a detachment of the Life Guards. Her Majesty returned to the Palace at two o'clock. - ------- The Marquis of Conyngliam had an audience of the Queen on Saturday. Mr. George Hayter has been engaged on her Majesty's por trait for the great picture for the city of London during the whole week. The Royal dinner party at the new Palace, on Saturday evening, included the Duke and Duchess of Sutherland, Vis count Melbourne, the Speaker of the House of Commons, and the Lord Chamberlain. The band of the Royal Regiment of Horse Guards were in attendance at the Palace during the evening. The Queen attended Divine Service yesterday morning, at the private chapel of the new Pace. The church service for the day was read by the Dean of Chester, deputy clerk of the closet in waiting, and the sermon was preached by the Bishop of London ; the Countess of Mulgrave, the Hon. Misses Cocks and Dillon, Viscount Falkland, Mr. Rich, and the Hon. Colonel Grey, were in attendance on her Majesty. The Duchess of Gloucester visited her Majesty yesterday. The Royal dinner party last evening included the Lcrd Steward, Viscount Melbourne, Baron Stockmar, and the Hon. William Cowper. , The Duchess of Kent visited the Duchess of Cambridge yesterday afternoon. The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, Prince George, and the Princess Augusta of Cambridge, attended Divine service yesterday morning, in Grosvenor chapel, South Audley-street. The Duchess of Gloucester diced with the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge on Saturday, and afterwards accom panied their Royal Highnesses, and Prince George, and the Princess Augusta of Cambridge, to the Lyceum. Their Royal Highnesses were attended by Miss Kerr, Baron Knesebeck, and Colonel Cornwall. At the Chapel Royal, St. James's, yesterday morning, an impressive sermon was preached by the Rev. Mr. Anderson ; Sir George Smart presided at the organ. The Duchess of Sutherland, the Marquis of Headfort, the Earl and Countess of Wilton, Lady Wheatley, and Lord Eliot, were amongst the nobility and gentry present. A Cabinet Council was held at three o'clock on Saturday afternoon. It was attended by Viscount Melbourne, the Lord Chancellor, the Marquis of Lansdowne, Viscount Duncannon, Lord John Russell, Viscount Palmerston, Lord Glenelg, Earl of Minto, Lord Holland, Mr. Poulett Thomson, and Viscount Howick. The Council sat near two hours. The Commander of the Forces had an interview with Vis count Melbourne on Saturday, in Downing street. The French Ambassador, the Grecian and Bavarian Mi nisters, transacted business on Saturday, at the Foreign Office. Despatches were sent off on Saturday evening from the Colonial Office, for the Governor of Gibraltar, and the Lord High Commissioner of the lonian Islands. FASHIONABLE INTELLIGENCE. ARRIVALS. The Dowager Duchess of Beaufort, in Upper Brook-street, from a visit to the Hon. Mr. Ryder, at Westbrooke, near St. Alban's, Herts ; Colonel and Mrs. Gregory, at the Burling ton Hotel, Cork-street, from Kent : Sir Walter Rockliff, and Lady Mary Farquhar, in Brook -street, from the seat of Lord Calthorpe, near Hampstead-bridgo, Bucks. DEPARTURES. Count and Countess de Salis, from the Burlington Hotel, Cork-street, for their seat, Rokeby Hall, Dunleer, Ireland; Sir William Somerville, Bart. M. P., from ditto, for Bifrons, near Canterbury, on a visit to the Marchioness of Conyngham ; Mr. Charles Greenaway, M.P., from ditto, for Cheltenham ; Mr. Redington, M. P., from ditto, for Ireland ; Captain Oakes, from ditto, for Brighton ; Mr. J. Bailey, M.P., from ditto, for his seat, near Worcester; Mr. Parker, M. P., from ditto, for Oxfordshire; Viscount Adare, M. P., from ditto, for Glamorganshire ; Mr. and Lady Sarah Digby, from ditto, for Holkham Hall, on a visit to the Earl and Countess of Leices ter; Mr. Nicolas Bull, M.P., from ditto, for his seat in Ire land ; Mr. R. Heaton, M.P., from ditto, for his seat, in Staf fordshire ; Mr. Bentham, from ditto, for Hereford ; Mr. and Mrs. Akers, from ditto, for Ludlow, Shropshire ; Mr. Hawkes, M. P., from ditto, for Dudley; Mr. Wm. Bragge, from ditto, for Oxford ; Mr. Joseph Bailey, jun., M.P., from ditto, for Chrickholme ; Mr. Wells, from ditto, for his seat, Lulworth Castle, Dorset; Mr. N. Earle, from ditto, for Liverpool ; Mr. Scudimore, from ditto, for Hereford ; Mr. Haywood, from ditto, for Manchester; Mr. Bridges, from ditto, for Hereford ; the Marquis and Marchioness of Lansdowne, from Lansdowne House, for Bowood Park, Wilts; Lord Charles Russell. M. P., from Belgrave-square, for Woburn Abbey, Bedfordshire ; Earl de Grey, from St. James's-square, for Newby Hall, Yorkshire; Mr. C. W. Codriugton, M.P., from Park-place, for Badminton, Gloucestershire, on a visit to the Duke and Duchess of Beaufort ; the Earl and Countess of Surrey, from Hyde Park-place, for Littlehampton, Sussex ; Lord Compton, for Castle Ashby, Northamptonshire ; the Hon. Mr. St. John, from the Burlington Hotel, Cork-street, for Leamington Spa. The Countess of Jersey was among the , earliest of the Peeresses who arrived at the House of Lords on Saturday morning. Her Ladyship's equipage, with those of other dis tinguished personages, was in waiting, in Old Palace-yard, as early as half-past 10. The Duke of Northumberland has joined his Duchess, at Alnwick Castle, Northumberland, where their Graces will receive a family circle during Christmas. The Earl and Countess of Mansfield and the Ladies Murray have arrived at Caen Wuod, Hampstead, from Scone Palace, Perthshire. The return of the Noble Family to town so early was in consequence of the illness of the Hon. Charles Murray, the Noble Earl's second son, who met with an acci dent, a few day's since, on landing from one of the Gravesend steamers. The Marquis of Waterford's health is daily im proving. Count Anatole Demidoff has arrived in Paris from Havre. The Count went to Havre to assist at the marriage of M. Frederick Leplay, of the engineers, to whom he has confided the great experiments he is making in his extensive mines in South Russia. Lord Canterbury left the Clarendon Hotel, on Frida evening, for Paris. The Marquis and Marchioness of Lansdowne, Lad Louisa Fitzmaurice, and Lord Shelburne, left Lansdowne House, on Saturday afternoon, for Bowood, for the recess. On Wednesday her Majesty was graciously pleased to honour Mr. A. E. Chalon with a sitting for a miniature. Lord Muncaster gave a grand fete on Thursday last, at his seat, Water Hall, Pocklington, . Yorkshire. The Marquis of Northampton is entertaining a party at Castle Ashby. The Chancellor of the Exchequer left Mansfield-street on Friday, on a visit to the Noble Marquis. The Marquis of Salisbury gave a grand entertain ment on Thursday, to his tenants in Herts, at Hatfield House, being the first fete given at that splendid fabric since its par tial destruction by fire. The Noble Marquis and his Mar chioness will receive a select circle during the holidays. The Duchess of Sutherland came up to Stafford House express from Oatlands to attend her Majesty to the Houso of Lords on Saturday. Her Grace and Lord Albe marle, by virtue of the respective offices they hold, have the honour of accompanying the Sovereign, in the Ruyal carriage, on State occasions. Lord Leicester retains his fondness for the pursuits of agriculture, and devotes his time and fortune to one of its greatest objects—the bre e di n g of cattle. We notice with the greatest pleasure that the com mercial reports furni s h e d by our correspondents and others represent a geecral improvement to be taking place in the woollen, worsted, cotton, linen, hosiery, and lace trades in the towns of Leeds, Huddersfield, Bradford, Halifax, Roch dale, Wakefield, Manchester, Liverpool, Barnsley, and Not tingham. A decided improvement just at this period, which is usually the dullest in the whole year, is a very cheering symptom of returning prosperity, and affords good hopes of increased comfort to the working classes. Moroever, the ap pearances cannot, he owing to an excessive circulation, as both the Bank of England.and the country banks have largely re duced their issues and increased the stock of bullion in their coffers. According to the latsst return of the Bank of Eng land, its stock of bullion now amounts to 8,172,0001., and its circulation to only 17,998,0001. ; the former being increased 740,0001., and the latter decreased 346,0001. within the last inonth.—Leeds Mercury. He who first arouses in the bondsman the sense and soul of freedom, comes as near as is permitted to man, nearer than the philosopher, nearer even than the poet, to the great attribute of God.—.l3tdiver's THE CHRISTMAS PA:k;TOMIMES COVENT. GARDEN. An attempt is making to revive the glories of Grimaldi's day at this house, and what is technically termed " the comic business" is a more prominent featur e than it has been made since the era alluded to. Stanfield lends his aid with a diorama, and the general scenery is good. The title of the pantomime is Harlequin and Peeping Torn of Coventry. The story is as old as the chronicles of Coventry :—Count Mercia levies a severe fine on the citizens ; his Lady (Godiva) intercedes for them : he tauntingly offers to forgive them if she will ride through the city at noonday in a state of nudity : she consents; the people close their por tals, and declare death to any one who dares to appear or look forth ; Peeping Tom disobeys the latter injunction, and is stricken blind. The pantomime follows the story in all but the last particular, for Peeping Tom is converted by Mother Holly, the Witch of Warwick, into Harle quin (Mr. C. J. Smith), Edith, daughter of Earl Mercia, becomes Co lumbine (Miss Fairbrother), the Earl turns into Clown (Signor Jeffe rini), and the. Mayor of Coventry into Pantaloon (Mr. Clark). The opening of this pantomime burlesques the story; Lady Godiva is gro tesqued by Mr. Fenton, and the riding across, if persisted in, will be a hazardous attempt. Paul Bedford plays and sings a beadle in a style perfectly unique. There are two or three good things in the comic scenes, especially a very complicated thrice-changing inn (The Wonder), Quiet Lodgings, a certain Marquis, and " The Morning Star," and the Death's-he:A Candles ; Stanflen's Diorama, abounding in views such as he and he alone can paint, will alone prove a source of great attraction. The pantomime is by Mr. H. Younge. DRURY-LANE. Harlequin Magic Lantern, or the Witch of the Dropping Well, is the treat offered at this season at eld Drury. Baron Aldobrand (Mr. F. Cooke) confines in his castle Griselda, the Beauty of the Raven Locks (Miss Lane) ; Sir Palidore (Mr. Howell) loves, and resolves to rescue her ; he calls to his aid Tristam (Mr. T. Matthews), and master and man encounter a variety of adventures, in which Jack o'Lantern (Mr. Wie land) and Will o' the Wisp (Mr. C. Fenton) take a conspicuous part ; they (the lover and his servant) ultimately escape with the lady, when the opposing friends transform the characters into Harlequin (Mr. Howell), Clown (Mr. T. Matthews), Pantaloon (Mr. F. Sut ton), and Columbine (Miss Lane). The opening is written by F. Rey nolds, Esq. The comic scenes (which are very various and bustling) are invented by Mr. Howell, aided by some tricks given, shortly before his demise, by the late Mr. Grimaldi to the Lessee. HAYMARKET. Webster has re-dressed his own piece of Whittington and his Cat, curtailing it very considerably from its melodramatic shape, giving music to the hero, and aiding it by very excellent scenery, dresses, &C. Mrs. Waylett plays the boy destined far civic honours. ST. JAMES'S. Braham presents, instead of a pantomime, a piece, founded on the lately published tale, by Hooke, of Pascal Bruno. Mrs. Sterling per forms the hero. ADELPHI. Harlequin Silver Sixpence, and the Giant Penny Piece, is the no. velty on which Mr. Yates hasbeen bestowing his energies. Giant Penny Piece (Mr. Searle) wishes his son, Harpi.hapani (Mr. Sanders) to pos. sess Princess Half-crown-iana (Mrs. Nailer) ; she loves Silver-sixpence (Mr. Harvey). After adventures in the Copper Mine, the Silver Val ley, Pennypiece's Castle, and the Golden Palace of the Emperor Guinea, the transformation takes place. Harvey is Harlequin ; Sanders, Clown; Barnes, Pantaloon ; and Mrs. Nailer, Columbine. The pantomime is by Mr. Nelson Lee, but produced under the direction of Mr. Yates. OLYMPIC. Pantomime is excluded from this theatre, but an extravaganza, as usual, is to be produced. The present story is more pantomimic and less mythological than its precursors. The story is Puss in Boots. Ralph (Madame Vestris) has been left, under her uncle's will, only a cat ; his brother Robin (Mr. Ireland), a donkey ; and Richard (Mr. Selby), the mill and money. Fenella, a fairy, consoles the two brothers—takes Ralph under her protection, calling in to aid them Puss in Boots (Mr. C. Mathews). Puss visits the palace, and offers the King a present of a rabbit, introducing Ralph as the Marquis of Carabas. He subsequently gets into the castle of an Ogre, who has the power of transformation, and whom, whilst he is representing a mouse, puss devours; Grimalkin gives up the castle to Ralph, who marries the Princess (Miss Lee). The sce nery is excellent. A vast variety of characters are introduced, sustained by Misses Murray. Crisp, Hodson, &c. &c. Macintosh has some very clever machinery, and no pains have been spared to make this Christmas folly as gorgeous as any that has preceded. The piece is by Messrs. Planche and Dance. CITY OF LONDON. Harlequin Will o' the Wisp is the novelty here. The plot somewhat resembles that of the Drury-lane pantomime. Miss Pincott plays Will o' the Wisp, and the lover, Lovell (subsequently Harlequin) is person ated by Mr. Duellin. Sir Barnaby becomes Pantaloon (Mr. Duellin, jun.), and Lanky Looby, Clown (Mr. Bolino), Margaretta, afterwards Columbine (Miss Gilbert). Ihe scenery is most magnificent. The pan tomime is under the direction of Mr. Sterling. ROYAL SURREY. The pantomimic novelty at this house is entitled Old Dame Prot, or the Fairy and the Comical Cat. It commences in the Cavern of Gloom. Atropos calls up Delarosa (Miss Sharpe); she is given a potion which is to make her melancholy—the charm can be broken alone by a smile; Mischief attends her, and is warned to avoid Goodwill (a fairy) ; he, however (from his Paul Pry propensities), falls into her hands; she is anxious to dissolve the charm that enthralls Delarosa, and sends for Dame Trot (Mr. Goldsmith), and her Cat (Master Young). The ancient lady is then seen receiving homage from Harry-Parry (Mr. Ellar). Sir Griffith Hoppergollop (Mr. Morrelli) arrives, who accuses the old Dame of" witchery ;" Harry-Parry protects her from the Knight; she bids him take her cat to the castle, by whose antics he is to make the lady smile, and having dissolved the charts, claim her as his reward. Muddle Cuddle (Mr. Southby) admits the cat to the presence of the tranced beauty ; Grimalkin treats her to a solo on the double bass ; she laughs, and the charm is at an end : the frustrated Atropos appear., so does Goodwill ; the latter change Harry-Parry and Delarosa to Harle quin and Columbine. Atropos transforms Muddle Cuddle and Sir Grit. Pith into Clown and Pantaloon, and the fun begins. The best points in the comic business arc " the Royal Stud" changing into " John Bull in the Gazette; stud sold"—Exhibition of the Sheriff's liveries—Select Committee to receive the Queen—" Spanish Fruit" changing into an amputated penniless soldier," Fruits of Spain ;" a cut at Lord de Roos and Southwark revenue cutter changing to an emblem of D. W.-Har vey. There is a Diorama by Toinkins. The pantomime is by Mr. T. Greenwood. SADLER'S WELLS. Mr. Osbaldiston has again entered on the management of this theatre, and commences his season on Tuesday. The Christmas effusion, in vented and produced by Nelson Lee, is creditable to his talent; the story is that of Little Jack Horner, or Harlequin an Christmas Pie. The Seasons are assembled to do homage to Time ; during the height of their revels mention is made of a wedding between old Wheatstack (Mr. Lynch) and Primrose (Mrs. Worrall). Time calls upon a vision of an 'other lover of the lady; this is no less a person than the gastronomical Jacky Homer (Mr. Gay, who acquired some fame as a pantomimist in America). Time and the Seasons favour the juvenile lover, and bid Christmas prepare a pie, which he does, though in high dudgeon; in re venge he lures Wheatstack, Jack, Primrose, and Crispin Heeltap (Mr. Scarborough), to his cave, where he encircles them with icy chains; Jack gets loose, and rushing to the pie, puts in his thumb, and pulls out --, not a plum, but a plump little Fairy yclept Thaw ; the icy fetters dissolve, Jack becomes the motley hero, Primrose, his partner, old Wheatstack hobbles as Pantaloon, and Crispin as Clown. The comic scenes are bustling and effective, especially one of the city feast, and of marine ,stores changing to the Royal Arsenal. The music is sew, by Mr. W. H. Montgomery. ROYAL MARYLEBONE. A new entrance has greatly improved this suburban theatre. It re commences its performances on Tuesday, when a pantomime entitled Harlequin Hunchback, or the Fairy and the Oak, will be presented. Humpy and Dumpy rescue the fairy, and each obtains his wish under a certain injunction, which they break ; after various adventures Dumpy becomes clown (Mr. Nelson), Humpy Harlequin (Her Schmidt) lloneylip Columbine (Madam Schmidt). They were the motley hero and heroine last season at Covent-garden. The pantomime is bustling and clever. ROY AL PAVILION—(WHITECHAPEL). Farrell has written a new pantomime, entitled Harlequin Tell.tale. Tit. The opening is mythological and mysterious. On the change taking place Chipino is Harlequin; Paul Herring, Clown; Tongman, Pantaloon ; Oakey, Lover; and Miss Clarke, Columbine. Danson has painted a capital moving view of the Queen's Visit to the City. The pantomime will be preceded by a new drama, entitled The Fratrieide, ur the Outcast of the Ocean Deep. THE SARRICK—(LEMAN-STREET, GOODMANS.FIELDS). Messrs. Gomersal and Conquest try their winter campaign with a pan tomime, by Mr. Hart, founded on a very old fairy tale; the title is Toads and Diamonds. Helena (Miss Mercer) is a good young Lady, who is kind to a Fairy, and Dicky Dumpling, the reverse one, is doomed to eject from his lips toads, the other diamonds. Helena becomes Co. lumbine ( Miss L. Webber). The Prince, Harlequin (Mr. Horrebow) ; Dicky, Clown (Mr. Clifford) ; and his Mamma, Pantaloon (Mr. White). The scenery is by Mr. Jones. VICTORIA. A pantomime, entitled Harlequin Bukhara, or the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan. The story is, of course, from " Lalla Rookli." Azim (Mr. H. Lewis) loves Zelica (Miss Lee) ; they suffer from the machinations of Mokanna, the Veiled Prophet, and of Zambec (Mr. W. Davidge). The pantomimic characters are Harlequin, Mr. H. Lewis; Clown, Mr. W. Taylor; Pantaloon, Mr. Fillingham and Columbine, Mdlle. Leoni. There is a panorama by Mr. C. James, and Sylvester, the " Air Diver," gives his gymnastic exercises. THE QUEEN'S. This theatre was to 'have opened with a piece by Mr. Santer, entitled Sadak and Kalasrade, or the Waters of Oblivion ; but, from some mis. understanding between the proprietor and lessee, it is doubtful if the house will open at all. COMPETITION AND MONOPOLY Competition is a clever, civil, obliging fellow, ever on the alert to accommodate. He is sharp and bustling. Spare of habit,—for he does not give himself leisure to grow fat. He accosts you with a bow and a smile, and asks what he can do to serve you. He is seldom idle, either in body or mind.—is continually devising and effecting new improvements, for the public benefit, well knowing that it is only by such means that he can benefit himself. Monopoly is a stiff, pompous old gentleman, who will not put himself •ut of the way for any one. He is stupid and lazy. Cannot see his toes for his belly. Swaggers about with his hat cocked on one side, and his thumbs stuck in his waiscoat armholes. He returns your salute with an air of haughty condescension, and struts away with supercilious hauteur. He is slow and apathetic in every thing lie does. His brains are nearly stagnant, and the few ideas he does possess are directed to the prevention of improvement, which he calls innovation. Competition is a man of business, depending solely on his own talents and industry to push himselfforward in the world. Monopoly is a salaried publie.otlice plodder, going through his dull routine of duty with irksomeness, anxiously watching the clock for the hour that is to release him for the day, and depending for his promotion on the interest of his friends at Court. Competition is a candidate on his canvas. Monopoly is an M.P. reckoning his seat secure for seven years. Competition is a dissenting minister, on the voluntary principle, full of zeal for the instruction and salvation of his flock. Monopoly is a rich, fat rector, leaving the cure of souls to his curate, and caring little whether they go to the or not, so long as they con tinue orthodox in the matter of tithes. Competition makes steam packets and railways, and carries you a couple of hundred miles, over sea or land, in a few hours. Monopoly calls these things mischievous and dangerous inventions, and laments that the good old times have passed away.wbeu people were a fortnight in travelling from London to York, and wade their w ills be fore they set oft Competition is a puplic benefactor. Monopoly a public robber. Competition is a radical, and thinks that civil government was insti toted for the good of the whole community. . . . _ Monopoly is a Tory, and maintains that it was invented for the bene fit of a few aristocrats and place-hunters. Competition is continually striving to push the world forward. Monopoly is exerting all his power to keep it back, or cause it to re. trograde. Competition is a sp., it is a spirit of light and lif2, infusing inteiligerfc'e and vigour into all who come within its infLeace. Monopoly is an enormous incubus, prostrating our energies, and de basing our faculties. Competition, in short, is the soul which animates and Invigorate; the whole social body. Monopoly is its death, turning it Lib, a lifeless and disgusting mass of corruption. With all his good qualities, Competition has, however, one failing.— It is strongly suspected that he would have no objection to get into Monopoly's easy chair, if he could, and if once there that he would turn out no better than the old gentleman himself; but we need not be much afraid of this, for, do what he will, he will never get there while his name is Competition. Old Monopoly views his restless scheming neighbour with any thing but cordiality. In fact, he has a great horror of his improving propen sities, and not without reason, for Competition has crossed his path very frequently of late. and giyen him two or three confounded hard shakes. The effects of this rudeness are already visible in the old boy. It has taken a good deal of the buckram out of him. His bearing Is not so pompous and stiff as it used to be. In fact, he has lately become some what desponding and hypocondriacal, probably from want of exercise. He gets all sorts of strange fancies in his head. He sometimes, for in stance, fancies himself a bishop, with ten thousand a year, and sees Competition arm-in-arm with a fearful looking fellow called Church Re form, followed by same twenty or thirty working clergymen, and in the rear of those a whole host of rate-payers, of twenty or thirty parishes, the electors of the said working clergymen. These he sees, in his ima gination, falling upon his goodly ten thousand per annum. Church Reform divides it among the parish-elected clergymen, and impudently offers him a paltry five hundred a year, if he chooses to work for it. At another time he will fancy himself a peer of the realm, reclining on crimson velvet, in a splendid hall, admiring the wisdom and perfection of our glorious Constitution which invests him with the privilege of making laws, touching the property, the liberties, and the lives of his fellow-sub jects, without any regard to his qualifications for such a function, without imposing upon him any responsibility to those for whom he legislates, but merely because he happened to be born a lord. Yes: he exclaims, to himself, on such occasions—Let poor shackled royalty be subject, through its ministers, to popular controul,—let paltry corn. moners shrink before a clamorous constituency,—glorious peerage stands free and irresponsible. Let the ignorant presumptuous people call for the redress of their grievances,—let the Commons pass measures of reforms, and let kings or queens be ready to assent to them,—peerage —invincible peerage—can stop them all, and nullify the wishes of a whole nation with impunity. But while indulging in such rumi nations as these, a fearful apparitinn appears to his disordered ima gination, called Peerage Reform. It seems to address him in a voice of thunder, as fellows :—Vain imbecile; indulge not in such phantasiee. The days of thy power are numberel. An intelligent, powerful, and united nation, will not, much longer, suffer its best interests to he sacri ficed by a handful of selfish and ignorant aristocrats. I Prepare to resign thy irresponsible legislative power. Thy titles keep and welcome. But in order to make laws for thy fellow-subjects, a better qualification than accident of birth will be necessary. A ...fter such a vision as this, Old Monopoly generally appears grey ly agitated, and is heard calling out loudly—Avaunt monster I—Dangbrs of organic change I—Wisdom of our ancestors .—Sacred prerogative landI — and various similar incoherent expressions, at which the apparition only seems to laugh. Occasionally he fancies himself an elder son, heir to an extensive en. tailed estate, when he sees the terrible apparition Reform, which con stantly haunts his imagination, tearing up the old parchments, and di. Tiding the estate equally among hid younger brothers and sisters. This apparition is called Udal or Allodial Succession, and always seems to come over the water from Norway, in company with a gentleman named Laing.—;See Laing's Residence in Norway.) But the most frightful of all his apparitions is one which he calla Anti.Corn.Law. Association. This one, although slow In its motions, is of a very stern aspect. It generally appears carrying in its hand the Times newspaper, and pointing to the " City Article," reads, " Compa rative price of corn and flour in foreign places, with the English mar. ket ;" finishing thus—" so that a man with twenty shillings could buy rather more than double the quantity of best flour at Hamburgh to what he can obtain for the same money at London." Monopoly. who always fancies himself, on such occasions, a rich squire, with lots of hunters and livery servants, sees, in the rear of the apparition, immense numbers of half-starved mechanics, and in the far distance the red caps and hungry faces of 30,000 Sheilanders ; also. cargoes of grain and flour arriving from foreign parts, free of duty ; his rents falling; his horses selling off; and the paroxysm ends by his running about, In a distracted manner, screaming out, "The world is come to an end."—Shaland Journal. PICTURE OF TATTERSALL'S. (From the Spectator.) I started when I'd skimnied the POST, To TSTTERSALL'S in high condition.—C. Dibdin the Younger. Though Tattersall's is to the London sporting man better known than St. Paul's, it is an undiscovered country to some of onr staid metropo litan, and to most of our provincial readers. Before endeavouring to give a sketch of Tattersall's as it is, we will say a word or two of Tatter sall's as it was. Be not alarmed, gentle reader, we are not going into a biography of the late Mr. Tattersall ; if you wish for anecdotes of him you will find them in a little volume entitled "The Fruits of Expe rience," whers he is described " in his habit as he lived " in byegon t e days; when the now expanded glories of Highfiyer-hall were but in the bud. In the late Mr. Tattersall's time powder gave a look of respectability to those who lack adventitious aid to enable them to pass current. Pigtails were plentiful then, and leather un mentionables abounded. Now, unless it be old Becher (father of the steeple chaser), we seldom see even the latter sported here. Old Mr. Tattersall had rather more rhetorical flourish than his successors, and in his bright blue coat and white neck cloth, that looked like a young tablecloth, might have passed muster as a candidate at a county election. In appearance the yard looked better in the olden time, but the conduct was worse; we, happily, have little or any of the cursing and wrangling of those days ; the curses now are not " loud, but deep." In all, save externals and the observance of a little more decorum, the corner is as it was, and with what it is we have to do. Firstly, WHERE ? At Hyde-park-corner take the first turning on the left hand side, end past a large white building you will perceive a narrow way, very mews-like and unimportant, follow your nose, and on your right hand you will find the place you seek; a large door such as you see at inns, with a closeable doorway in it, lets you into the yard; on the tight is a counting-house, in front of you the place where Mr. Tattersall erects his pulpit, and to your left the room where fortunes have been made and lost, and will again and again, unless Mr. Owen's schemes, or the Millenium, comes to pass. Of the sales here jr is needless to speak, save that they embrace every class of 11 iorse from the " crack" of Newmarket to the " screw" of Smith field. "The room" Is no splendid salon but a dingy, uncom. fortable, unfurnished, uncarpeted apartment, small and inconvenient, yet no one complains or seems to feel this. Secondly when, on Mon days and Thursdays this room (and frequently the yard besides) may be seen crowded with persons of different stations and callings, and with those who have perhaps neither station nor calling, but who, having al ways proved correct at the corner; take their stand as fearlessly as my lord. The " great creatures" of the turf seldom show ;they are content to make their bets through agents, but though dukes are rarities, men of wealth and of consequence are not. It is strange to see how distinctions are forgotten when once the portal is passed; the (elsewhere) haughty aristocrat bets freely with the pork-butcher and the publican, and nothing appears to be thought of but " getting money on;" or if too deep already, " getting it oft:" In the room are many whom the major part of the frequenters of Tattersales remember in the most menial situa. tions, and outside the room, perhaps outside the gate, you may behold many a squalid loiterer whom all also remember as having been amid the busiest of the betters. Gentlemen do not now array themselves like coachmen ; there is therefore nothing very peculiar about the appear ance of the subscribers in general, though to this remark Old Spring (the ci-devant box-keeper), and one or two more, form exceptions. In the yard, however, are generally a number of persons who look like grooms out of employ; horse-dealers, run to seed; and victuallers no longer licensed; they appear every bit as much interested us tho.e who have' thousands depending. Opposite the gate is a paddock, where the trotting out sometimes takes place ; by the gateway of this is, a small cabaret, called the Turf Tavern, where a class of betters are ge nerally waiting to hear what are the odds in the room. Many attend there who do not choose to become subscribers, and many, perhaps, who might not feel very comfortable in "the room" itselE The physiogno mist, the actor, the painter, the sculptor, would find some admirable studies here on the grand musters. Take the settling day of the Derby, for instance :—Mark the haggard, sleepless, and care.worn look, of yon der loser—observe how his lips, pale even to blueness, quiver, and his fingers work convulsively as he falters out an excuse to the winner, who stands with his eyes cast sulkily down, and his teeth clenched, as if he had predetermined to have the money, or—see with what non. chalance yonder two high-born, but reckless-looking, young men, pay and receive. Cast your eyes upon that group, all muttering in a corner —what think ye they are discussing ? The probability of X—, who is in all their books, showing or levanting. Look at the subscribers, as they depart—do you pause to ascertain the winners? How G— bounds into his cab ; B-- gives a playful pat to his pony, that says, as plain as doe-skin can, " I've done the trick;" R-- walks, or rather creeps, slowly away, with a wayless luok, that implies that it matters not whi ther he turns, for ruin stares from every corner. The only unconcerned creature being the reporter, who wears now the face he wore when he entered—what is it to him ?—he is the notcr of the doings of others— not a angler in the busy scene itself It would be easy to pursue the picture of winners and losers—to trace the former, pouring his riches into the lap of loveliness, and being paid by a smbe, which the lady lives by martlng—to see the latter return to his home, to his wife who is now ponnyless, to babes whom he has beggared. Such things, however, happen after visits to other places than Tattersall's. Messrs. T—, one of whom is lame, are rather below the middle size, and what becomes observable in such a place, usually wears silk stockings and pumps : there is no appearance of assumption or effo tin or out of the rostrum ; and those who only look at the owners of " the corner" and at " the corner" itself, would have no idea of the wealth of *. ie former or the importance of the latter. In the lane where the yard is situated, dog fanciers, &c., commonly take their station, and anxiously endeavour to catch the eye of some sporting gent, who may do the liberal for a bit of fancy. Formerly. during the monkey.mania, baboons, apes, &c., were vended, and parrots continually. We have seen it stated in an old book on sporting, that Colonel O'Keliy bought his celebrated parrot here, but such was riot the fact. On Mondays and Thurdays business generally commences between two and three, and ends at five, though in spring it is sometimes be. tween six and seven ere the company separate. It Is noticeable that one or two ersons make a practice of remaining in the room for about an hour, and then going out, and returning again to the charge, when they generally go resolutely to work. Whether these parties go for orders or advice is "nothing to nobody." The quantity of business transacted, and the rapidity with which it is effected, is astoundi - ag, Here; as everywhere else, many, we may almost say the matarity, trust less to their own judgment than to that of some luminary of the race-course. The bets of Mr. Greville, Mr. Batson, and others, are generally forerunners of similar ones by those who knord nothing of the data on which these gentlemen have formed their tpinions. Many attend who do not bet on their own account, but whose em. ployers either instruct them, of c take their agents' judgment in pre_ Terence to their own. When these agents prove heavy losers, it Is quite edifying to behold the equanimity they display. The usual fee qu:niters of Tatteisall's are of course what is understood by the term "sporting men," yet not a few merchants may occasionally be ftell—lite_ rary men now and then, generally those who hover lightly round the muses—actors, but few ; indeed this class, though always at races, seldom bet much. The late Lewis was here in the olden time. and George Colman; Jack Johnstone, too, in his younger days. We have seen Mathews the elder, and Decamp, Jones (we th ink), and Rayner here, but the scene seems to present little attraction to an actor. Though the stock betting is upon races, public events, elections, na tional calamities, &c., are sometimes speculated upon. When the pa ize.ring was at its height, " Cribb" and " Molyneux" were as com monly named as Early Bird and Grey Momus now. The name of Tattersall is ktiJwn in every quarter of the civilised world. Dighton, by his semi-caricuure print, made the face of the late Mr. Tattersall familiar to all London, :rod i.oale great unknown at the Adelphi Theatre enacted the present one in " Tom and Jed ry." Dighton's was a good likeness, the histrionic gentleman's a failure. To ' conclude, reader, we wish thee a merry Christmas, and a happy new year ; if thou has: never been to " the corner," and " Intendest" to go, or if thou has often been and intendest to go again, or if thou in tendest to go so more, all we wish is, that now and hereafter thou may'st be able tiatiAl' as we can—" I have no reason t o re g ret going to. Tattersall's," Miss Angela Burdett is in treaty for the purchase of Worksop manor from the Duke of Norfolk. This will. be. a splendid residence for one of the richest ladies in the king,* ,m•