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

debate and argument. But it was not fair to attack the rum:lege:tent merely because it was possibly last half-year to pay a larger dividend than 3i P_,'r cent. Th e c h ances ,‘ ere t h at w h en t h e DIY came for the reiliewul c! the charter, some strict ta e h ec ' e n r °Dlii: in the House of Commons would prop o se some it alien which might afisct the dividend, but at present , ere was no n ecess ity fo r entering i n t o th e ma tt ers Drought forward by Mr. Da Winton. Mr. DE WINTON rcae, amidst some opposition, and srltuitted that he had entire confidence in the directors, but he thought if their accounts were well kept, they need not be ashamed to show them. There was now an item of 12 millions unemployed, and if only half of that were employed at one-and-a-half per cent. it would Produce 9 0,0004 a year. I f the accounts were placed r egularly b e f ore the proprietors every half-year h o was ilyt need the proprietors would have a larger a?dividend and they would. besides be enabled to judge fora hem whether the , business was treoaducted in the most economical way possible. The ja m. Prop r i etor then gave notice t h at at t h e next meet ghe would propose t h at a ccp y o f th e accounts be regulsrly transmitted to all proprietors holding 5004 or more stock, at l east three d ays b don every half-yearly ting. tii,Mr. COOK d e p reca t e d th e s uggestion made by Mr. De nt en as to the more extended publication of the ae wits, inasmuch as the Bank of England was t o t provincial establishment, but had to manage Ihst tr ansa inactions of the Government, which could not be ooked . of A x t STERMAN, M.P,, alluded to the present scarcity p r , - Yer, and inquired whether any measures were in T 'gress for rend er i ng th e su pply m o re plentiful. ,e ered GOVERNOR. said the ]yank of England had to er ed as mute inconveniei ice as any of the tith m bankers from the want , )f silver, which he be g:red had been caused by the abstraction of a certain : A tit itY, of silver coin for emigration, at a time when i e ' I. Was in general demand :for agricultural purposes sh.,"nrlexion with the harvest. This silver was ex.,,racted at a peculiar moment, and to a greater ei 41:I t probably than it could be under any other ottbettutstances. Mr. Masterman, as well as every 44k er bank er i n L on d on , was aware that the eire 4 , m ?f England had no control over the silver , - ,: at l° l3 . They were supplied with the coin by the ste' r ament, and they were not allowed to hold a larger 44 1 1 of it than was necessary for their ordinary voe r .,,g Purposes. But at the seam time they endea -141,1" to give e very facility for the distribution of silver, el ea `ueY kept up at considerable expense an establish the 11eleaost exclusively for the purpose of arranging hit) 14 res and egress of silver, so as to give rise to as i nconvenience as possible in its general distribu tilt It was with very great unwillingness they es. get t i o Y impediment in the way of London bankers t ee g larg e sums o f s il ver f or th e i r coun t r y cor t4Ddeets, who seemed to think that the tel to was bound to give every amount they th e t for, without regard to the amount in for ti; rea sury at the time. It was quite impossible tot e k e Bank to accede to their requests, but the three ead ordered a quantity of silver coin, and he be keed all difficulties in obtaining a supply would speedily h Pl) .. e (llear.) tp 4o e dividend was then agreed to, and the warrants tot 4 tt heed to be payable on and after the 11th of Oc T 1; next. °Proceedings then terminated. HEREFORD MUSICAL FESTIVAL, ohl rA EVENING—The concerts are held at the tti l d b litall. The attendance this evening was cer thi niore promising than the one at the cathedral l'resp r° „ ‘ "ning. There were between 300 and 400 flts - „"• The overture to Zauberfote commenced the aria r'rt---it was played well. Herr Formes sang an r 4 44„ r°ol Spobr's Faust with his usual vigour, and Ilts n i a Wonderf u l i mpress i on u p on th e H ere f o rd s hire Isdr..l this his first appearance. Mrs. Enderssobn 1 / 4 1 7: 18 . 8 Williams gave Mendelssobn's pleasing duet, I' 3 o: s ti ng) in capital style , , but it was not suitable . ittd, b a ste of the audience,' who scarcely noticed it. !lisil l t . n e Clara Novello then came forward, and made Ca an t impression by her rendering of a cavatina l 4 ei l Le l ltaii. The English Glee and Madrigal Union ,Performed Webbe's glee, " A generous frien.d gte legitimate and unaffcted style. Miss lits has encored in Land's pretty ballad, " The . 4 4 4 1 1 r1's love." The march, chorus, and quartett, 4 itt,„.Yel heroes," brilliantly performed, closed the Th7rt of the concert. se cond act opened with Weber's Oberon over „lklivVillPitally played, but the wind instruments were ➢ l ,_ l° O loud. Si r H. Bishop's glee, " Where art 4 it s l d' l lni of light," performed by the "Union," re ilitog most unanimous encore. The same compli -71% WbEIS awarded Madame Clara Novello and Mr. '14 44 , eaves, for their brilliant singing of the duet l ek t s' e nere core," from Donizetti's Roberto Deve htfo The madrigal, "Tice Lady Orison, was badly th o . ,, rll ed by th e c h orus , w h o were h u ddl e d together fey qt the slightest arrangement as to the parts der singing. Madame Clara Novello's singing lkl wit ; hkat i o u t ; . non giunge," was a splendid specimen of vo hk Mr. Sims Reeves sang " Corn 'e gentil," t f . t m t irus, accompanied on the harp by Mr. Trust. tCd-15hnoert concluded with Sir H. Bishop's quintett r 'llds e " °r us, " Home, there's a storm," sung by Mrs. 6.4b1180hn, Miss Williams, Mr. Hobbs, and Mr. H. Y ' Ih 4 'riEsnar MORNING.—The cathedral this morn 4the IVl thited a marked improvement, in the attendance. ,1%,, Performance included Haydn's Creation. 4 0 1 8 sacred cantata, " God, Thou art great," tto ba nd an alarm," by Sims Reeves, and a selection tit% n li eethoven's service in C. The performance of N,,•eation was progressing most satisfactorily oh,,'"-ir notice was forwarded. Z 5/ ' k eollecti on a t the cathedral doors amount e d t o 1 .9 ? ue , lug a decrease on the sum collected the first I 03 49 of 551., when it reached 2301. batons .t 1 °. ACASTER RACES. (THIS DAY.) 114 .( 4 4 • ELECT RIC TELEGRAPH.) 11 tt 3 , P Sw eepstakes of 10 sous. each. Bed House in. •• ..................1 d 'nett a rump s ••• ... 3 ••• G LINTON STAKES BETTING. 7 to 4 agst Vmdex 6 to 4 agtt Pelion 421 2 agst Exact Sept, s'lrartßAL RAlLWAS.—Tra ffi c for the Week Pa 12 , 1852 : km gr s( 1 8,848), parcels, horses, 4 00 ,, carriages £1,720 16 6 '8) cattle, g m . 750 0 10 --- kAr r Tot a l, qtthear., •• ••• . • 2,474 17 4 Strt riding week in last year... 2,460 0 8 (11, klt • 1 0, 1852. or 11A p for th -- "°N RAILWAY.—( 2O miles open) — Retur n b ale en e r s week ending Sept. 11, 1852 : parcels, &c. £175 2 4 t ort riu ise, cattle , &c.... ... 31 10 0 I, l Poi l d i „ Total ..„ £209 12 4 li aa 4tn 'g Week in 1851 (10 miles open) : ‘ t erch ge " , Parcels, &c. 36 9 1 aladise, cattle, &c.... ... 07 10 Total ... £36 16 11 41 '11 th , 13ki, tk W - . II IT. GRATIS !—ln consequence of the jbppl e ra lr ace the Duke of Wellington, the Proprietors acyketle Dispatch have determined upon presenting a 4:4 1 4, k 1115 A lt Thltith t eirjournal on!Sunday next, the 19tnst., t l pl t.t e iB ilt will . contain a: coious biography of his and political career, with i ' l iZ, l ,4;, ac llcal m g his militar y eminent an indivi t vy ray e utter connected with so ott„,ife. Aclaiplete the sketch of his varied and extrdaor sPqm Atti h ld be given to the newsven ors t, a era 011 ki t S t. (3 flic e litr Y without delay, or forwarded to the [SAC p r , 1 ,,t0 %Pee -T4 THE A DIVISION OF POLICE.-- . Soon 41,4D 4 , - % cli t ; i al train had left Woking station, conveying to Wp()%11?,,, l e d Just and friends of the National Necropolis l i t :ol t miss o f,,Ast as it was getting dusk, a large body of ‘Ve r - At; S R aj, t e characters who infest the neighbourhoods 1144 br eab .' Chertsey assembled on the common a d 11 1 0. 1 4e 1 :' d own the hurdles s urrounding a t l h i e ce t h e a n d t the oacasion. The metropo a p 'Oll DP% d aY used the utmost forbearance towards a : 1241 : 30 1: 1 c.t e o t r ali v n ie a l n:s to the common ; just, tr e de however, as ytri 'ilep e parting several of the ringleaders . ad- who was on the epot (by order of , -r8 of Police), advised the riotous lot to keep • h e 4 low "(? Sooner said so than a fellow dealt him hisa 4 tk wi th a stick which he cleverly parried ; klcieVe t ', was • Inspector king then, t fe severed in two. _ rated a line, and, assisted by Inspector Page, JO4 tti l . l Btabulary, they drew their staves amidst a 111,1,1,141a,,,lea'hottles and other missiles, speedily putting to ei ere w, and restoring order on the common Jr% "toe,,, °s ett in. It is but right the people in this kt,eß vi 11 or 0", should know that those who have been in %\‘, their 0 „ as a , t enements for only ten years the direc t jreehol 001, just and that a compensation will be N it s t „ a nd. fair scale. This common is utterly bOns P b,„'or the purposes of a cemetery, and is one \/tt, tt Ns. W hich we shall get entirely rid of intra th44),:hktlV,Vi % glad"- IN THE PERTH WEAVING TRADE yti tt aB ‘..,t0 IN that all our native manufacturers, :1 4 I t te kt" 41 4 f ll an; l . a g ° w agents, have made an advance on 0. 4 It I. w eaving corresponding to what we an. D r , eek op erti &tad taken place in Glasgow. The ad • I x , oned to the various qualities woven in the e,74o4lte.hagete ,rhilstated as equal to one shilling on the • w e eds e m anufacturers would, wP believe, take N t ge 414,1 11 they can find, and so would the agents. 10 44 4 1 1 v t • el-. 4 t41 !118 Wh' ti tq: % au , itehaven Castle have been n,u -tltt,( ~4 1 1, o f Iguished within the last few days. On t , l 4 , ll %l, t li:,,,ail l p s dale, Major Chambre, and Mr. Johnston ‘tl b J-et ilat 'aY the party was increased by the addi , eas of Esex and her daughter, Lady A. % P2Oet, killing and Dr. Wardrop were added tlN l 4 74 te 4 r t ! Of 11d Yesterday evening the party et ab a ,". Capt. Lowther, M. and Mrs. Low was joined ." 11 $ at the castle.—C«mberiand racquet of THE SUN, I) IA: A. T H OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. THE 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 took 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 ago. The Duke retired to rest on Monday night quite well, and in his customary good spirits. It is believed that he passed a comfortable night, and, at all events, he did not summon his at tendant 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. Hulks, 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. Hulke and his son (who also belongs to the medical profes sion) speedily returned, when an emetic was admi nistered to the noble patient, but unfortunately 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 csse Dr. Hume should be absent from town, the message specified that Dr. Ferguson should be next applied to • but, unfortunately, it so happ e n e d th at 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 hearing of the Duke's illness, recommended that Dr. Williams, of London, should be summoned to Walmer. Dr. 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 Deal, however, in time for his services to be of any avail. The Noble Duke's state gradually became more perilous ; and he suffered a third attack, still more severe than the preceding ones. When the 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. tis 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 part 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 be little doubt that they will, in the first instance, be removed to Apsley House. The Noble Duke had, on the day of his death, an appointment to meet the Cou n t ess o f W estmoreland 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 bis enaagement. The Countess received the intelligence with great concern, and drove over last evening from Dover to Weimer, 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 Weimer, and also the adjacent town of Deal, have experienced a most painful a 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 simil ar 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 equipages 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 Mr. 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 he should be interred privately at Strathfieldsaye, 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 Walmer Castle on the death of the Earl of Liverpool in 1828. The 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 Indiaman or trader to the small coaster or collier, all dropped their colours halfmast 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; and ere the morning had far advanced, scarcely a craft was seen going up or down without displaying the emblem of mourning. Lower dowa the river the same feeling 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 closing of the establishments on Tower-bill and Deptford, and the hoisting of the colours half-mast high at the Trinity stores at Blackwall, and other parts of the coast. A similar mark of respect will be exhibited at the different lighthouses and ships as soon as the intelligence can reach them. Th e late Duke was el ec t e d one of the elder brethren in 1829, and t,,.as a o p n p o t i he death nt ed othe Master f of the e a c r o q r u p is Camden,oration. in 1837, THE TOWER. —The different offices of the garrison and depot were partially being received of the death of on the intelligence hisG some years had held th e important office of the Tower of London. The ball of Grace, who for St. C r o e n t s e t r a Constable Vincula, the church of the fortress, was tolled at int rvals during the day. OXFORD, SEPT. 15.—Great sensation has been produced here by the intelligence of the lamented death of the Chancellor of toe University. It is true that his Grace was not in the habit 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 live, 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. Tbe 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, and the merits and demerits of several candidates have probably heen 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 Ellesmere. LivutrooL.—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 of 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. 15.—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 a nd 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 peopl e o f th ese 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 on the day of interment will remain undetermined upon until more is known of proceedings elsewhere. (From the Times.) 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, are thoughts that have occurred over and over again, not only to us, but to our fathers, and to multitudes who have long since them selves been gathered to the grave. Ei g ht een years ago we remember that it was commonly said that th e wor k 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 tale, and 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- 1 1 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 else time alone reveals the diminished strength of the social fabric and the increasing strain on the remaining supports. The leading quality of this remarkable man, that which seemed the stun of his other qualities, and which ren dered him in the judgment of the great French diplo matist " the most capable man" of his time, was that he always knew what was best to be dene in the actual state of affairs, and had the wisdom and courage to do it. In this ther e was b ut li tt l e show, and sometimes not a little obloquy. There was no personal pride, no egotistic glory, in di scern i ng an d obeying the dictation of circumstances. Th e exerc i se 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 defe ns i ve 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 i ts tr iumphs. The same trials, the same necessities, h ave characterized the Duke's long political career, an d h e 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 th e country not worth concession or compromise. Hence it is that the Duke's military and political life have s o 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 same attacks. Posterity will pronounce . the Duke one and the same in all the stages of his varied career; ever ready to give up positions no longer tenable, and obj ec t s no longer a ttainable; to sacrifice his predilections and himself, and do only what was best for his cotunetr,,yE. First is this very characteristic, so humble an d i ng l or i ous, which has rendered the Duke of Wellington the gr ea t arbiter of facti o ns, the chief of the Senate, h 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 t o g i ve his advice without favour or prejudice, he has been app ea l e d to at the m os t diffi cu lt junctures, with the unanimous concurrence of all parties. It was not that th e D u k e had no opini ons or p re dil e ctions of his own; he had them as 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 s u ppli e d even by the fresh memories an d 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 of caution that pointed to danger,vehen others were for pressing onwards, will no more be raised. The Argue-eye that scanned every weakness in the State, and perceived the dire contingencies of a dark future, no longer watches for us. The man who gave timely warning of an ill-starred expedition, who advised the choice of commanders for services of difficulty, who planned the secret defences of this metropolis in an hour of need, who was believed to be capable of me e ti ng at once any 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 loss ours alone, for the Duke of Wellington was the greatest man and the most potent name in the whole wor ld . Foreign as well as internal foes will feel a weight off their souls; foreign friends will feel our alliance the weaker. The mere presence and example of such a man ‘, was w h felt ile to tu b e e Dukesecurity liv for our has good lo order de b r e e n a n favouritestability. expression with those who feared or desired a change. " And the land had rest for 40 years, we read in the sacred annals as the natural result of some great deliverance, followed by the ru l e 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 be said of the Duke, more than of any British statesman, that he has judged Israel, and that for 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 thiswilltom mbefeelso. The p . t Noristhreeolri haspioeltica a great l horizon very clear at windfall of places and dignities to dispose of; bat he may soon be made to miss the great man whose uni versal powers were faintly expressed its 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 race of men who have already had ample oppo r t un i t i es o f ill ustra ting, in . peace as in war, the example o f t h e i r ill us t r i o us chief. Happily, also, it seems a law of Providence that the death of one great man should be the raising up of others, encouraged by his example, and vieing for the inheritance of his virtues and his name. (From the Morning ehrunicTe.) The Duke of Wellington's career C 3 a General ex tended only over twenty-eight years; hut hi 3 life was prgloged beyond 1154 eighty-yhirci birai.doy. be THURSDA greatest conquerors and commanders have always done their special work rapidly. The last campaigns of about the period of the energy of middle life; Frederick Alexaeder, Cozier, and Napoleon of Prussia and Marlborough each commanded in the affords almost a solitary instance of a great warrior field utter the age of fifty; ty p u o u l t eo th n e w D er u e ke clo o s: d w b e e n f i 7 g e te : whose life was prolonged —and that for every active duties in other departments of State service—nearly forty years after his last battle was fought. The Duke's actual career as a soldier was shorter than his public life as a statesman. But what was that career, from eighteen—Arthur Wellesley's age when he received his first commission—to six-and-forty, when he was hailed Prince of Waterloo? We cannot better esti mate it than by reviewing the difficulties which the Great Captain had to face, and by contrasting his achievements with those of his most illus . rious In this place it were alike impossible and undesirable to write a military memoir. All that we can attempt is to indicate those leading features of the Duke of Welling ton's generalship which illustrate personal character, and which, as we think, elucidate those general views of his inner man which we yesterday ventured to sketch. The military at the close of th e e i g h teenth century. The glories of Blenheim and Nlalpl aquet only fame of En g l an d was at a d ec id e d ebb survived as rapidly de caying traditions ; an d, i n truth, Marlborough ' s career itself was excepti ona l, and but an evanescent burst of triumph. Fifty y ears ago, England was unknown or forgotten on the C ont i nent as a European military power. All antec e d ent 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 mperaiively 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 conti nental general, the Duke of Cumberland, bad not led the world to expect much from our re-appearance on the field of European strife. It was reserved for Wellesley to inaugurate his military career in the Duke of York's calamitous and impotent expedition to Holland. And it was well for his training, moral a s w e ll a s professional, that it began in the presence of disaster and defeat. Ad versity is a safe school in which to educate a conqueror. gained in the swamps of Holland was his first, and, The experience of military incapacity which Wellesley perhaps, his most valuable lesson i n war. The scene changes. The willow b ank is succeeded b y the palm-tree grove. From the mi sts of the Low Coun tries, Colonel Wellesley is launch e d on the burning plains of South India. The calmness and patience learned in Europe are soon, and beneficially, to be a chequered by the impetuous energy which must decide Oriental battle. Assaye and S er i ngapatam 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 W aterloo has been moulded in the most opposite scho o l s 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, c ircumstances. 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 eyes—that there was true stuff in the British soldier. The army was unpopular, both at home and abroad ; and a general feeling prevailed that we were an invincible naval, but a was not likely to inspire Y divided, but was contemptible military power. The Ministry of the day was unable to equip anything like an imposing ation which ren dered; and the discredit able force. subjected C t Command o n! p w l e a x s i ty n not s m u e b r o e r l d n unity Convention of confidence or hope. Sir Arthur Wellesley en tered on his first responsible European command under a o c f tio c n iu i t m ru pos w s every conceivable combination of disadvantages. Happily, we had forgotten the old chess-board strategies of military professors; but we bad not substituted any system of war in the place of discarded scientific theories. The daring and immoral method of Napo leon, which had already practically reduced the heart of Europe into one imposing province, was such as no British general either would or could imitate. It was left to the English commander in Portugal to originate an art of war, and then to apply it as he best could. And, with that simplicity of character and single ness of aim which were the soul of his power, he ma d e 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 he 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. The 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 Gur wood's publication smacks of the War-office clerk, the Victoires et Con qiietes has an undeniable twang of the minor theatre. The result was, that Marengo and Austerliiz collapsed into Waterloo, whilst Corunna ex panded into Vittoria and Salamanca. .e. We are not writing a military Plutarch—so we need not pursue the parallel in all its details. But we are proud to remember that, when Napoleon was profuse in his distribution of crosses and embraces, Wellington was at work at his hospitals and his depots. Napoleon won personal enthusiasm—Wellington earned universal confi dence. Napoleon was the idol of his soldiers—Welling ton was the friend of his army. Napoleon 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 choose. Each knew how to wield his masses—each was perfect in maneeavres— each was a general of absolute science. The British Commander was sl ow i n acqu i r i n g confi dence—the French Emperor was headstrong a nd un manageable in defeat. Tim e an d ex p e rience did their work differently on each, Is,:eause they represen ted dis tinct moral principles. Wellington, in his final charges and his pursuit of victory o n the s l o p e s of Mont St. Jean, equalled the most brilli ant and i m petuous attacks of Napoleon in his best days ; but at Waterloo Napo leon had neglected a gener a l' s fi rst duty, for b e had not made the slightest provi s i on for a retreat. A n d that mighty conflict of principle s , as well as of arm i es , has re sulted in a thirty-seven y ears ' peace, Water l oo wa s as much a moral as a milit ar y v i ctory. A single further ill ustrat i on will show th i s car dinal difference of morals i n th e two men and wil l account for their opposite fortu nes . - • e allude to the c ontrast between the French an d t h e English treatment of ra w levies. Napoleon used th em up for the occas ion — men were to him as mu s k ets, and nothing more . Wel lington saw in his recruits W not only materials for his immediate purpose, but responsible beings, whom it was his duty to train into efficient soldiers. An utter recklessness and disregard of human life was the characteristic of the one (3-- n ti • q —a painful and anxious solicitude for the health and consequent usefulness" of the whole dis men was the guiding principl e o f the other . Napoleon fought battles, stormed towns, an d laid was te tricts with fire and sword to paralyze a nation —Welling ton never fired a cannon but as a step in a planned cam paign. T o rr e s Vedras i s th e type of the B r i t ish —Jaffa but too faithful an illustratio n o f the Frenc h mind. _ Nor is this m oral contr a di ct i on confine d to the merely military contrasts developed by t h e caree rs which we have been contemplating. Soult made a splendid fortune by robbery ; b u t the re i s no t a p i cture or a jewel in the halls of W e lli ngton or B eres f ord, or Hill, w hi c h was not a gift or a purchase. W e l l i ngton saved P ar i s from the b arbarian threats of Blucher—N apo l eo n murdered the Due D'E ng hl en. And even in the smallest ma tters we trace a lik e contrariety. Wellington endured patiently the associated inc a p ac i ty of Cuesta and his Spanish colleagues, if not w i t h out a murmur, at least without p i qu e; while Napol eon ostracised the talents of Bernadotte . Welling ton had th e art to conciliate, by p ta ble of allies — he r©- r udent temporis in g and the most intractable duced the Junta of Cadiz and the obstinacy o f Madrid to a har m l ess dependence; while Napo l eon could not retain the trai n o f monarchs who were in league with him. on. Finally —for these things are not without their abiding and eternal lesson to mankind —the great avenger. and reconciler has awarded to each of these which, at and retribu lighty rivals his appropriate end in his own house and at a soc ial the bitterness of unre by l eavin g a legacy Napoleon died an exile and a prisoner—venting anted envy ; but it was reserved for We llington to the wretch who attempted the assassination of his enter taincopqueror gton to ablest ;most indignant satire, banquet, the of the French ' captains who had years before opposed him in the field. Napoleon has left a name curse wh il s t one universal of his country ' ; acclaim of blessing and honour from every British heart this moment, works as the substantial salutes the euthanasia of our noble chieftain. Until re property motest time the fate of Napoleon will point the moralist's " n ess, vileness, and failure of ambition and tyranny; but the most distant generations will bound with delight at the recollection of him who best illustrated, under un paralleled difficulties and temptations, the common vir tues of honesty and duty and reverence for law, right, ambition and truth, and lo and patriotism. The one is the to the calm dignity of historic f a me. Blasted laurels fell on the solitary tomb of St. Selena ; but the patriot's w h a i s telf. The highest of a fi tful and luridroraance--the other belongs best reward of Wellington, myrtle and the civic oak shall wreath the bier of our hero. And justly ; for Napoleon lived but for himself— Wellington of worked e Napoleon for in allhis fallht t after all his military " To drag a world into the mire with him." The glories, was but " To return home into life, and to become A fellow-man among his fellow-men." By (From the Daily N ews) the Duke W el li ng ton '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 class. With the disposal of some of these wind falls_ the public have but little right to meddle—iu re ference to others, it is their serio us and ur g ent dut y to interfere. Who shall have the newly-vacant Garter— whether my L or d T h i s or hi s Grace of That shall wear it is not the affa ir people . The blue ribald is one o f those i . of the . ostinctions much prizefor its rarity; intended d - for ,, the aristocracy, and in the disposal of which the Crown and WO Minister are exclusively entitled to decide, EVENING, SEPTEMB The same may, perhaps, be said of the two Lord-Lieu tenancies of Hampshire and of the Tower Hamlets. Three 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 best to those in whose gift the law places them. The coloneley in the Grenadier Guards, with its 1,200/. a year, will be a military perquisite—th e Mastership of the Trinity-house concerns Tower-hill, and the Chancellorship cf Oxford will give a topic and a duty to the Dons of that ancient scat of unreformed learning. But after this concession, we must draw a dis tinct line, and declare that all the other appointments now vacant have a peculiar character which renders the re-disposal of them au affair of vital importance to the well-being of the country. Whilst the Duke of Wel lington lived nobody over seriously thought of disturbing any of the offices in his peculiar possession. The country seemed never tired of rewarding biro, as the round sums one after another voted to him by Parliament sufficiently testify. After Badajoz and Salamanca they gave him 100,0001. to buy him an estate; after Toulouse 400,000/. more; and after Waterloo another round sum of 200,0001. —besides voting him a pension for his own life and for the lives of his two next male heirs of 2,000/. a year, subsequently raised to 4,0001., and paid from the Conso lidated Fund. This pension will now be paid to the pre sent Dnke of Wellingto n , an d , since he has no children, afterwards to Lord Ch ar l es Wellesley, should be stir: vivo his brother, and, if not, to his heir male. Inheriting their father's titles, pen s i on , an d great private. wealth,the children of the l a te D u k e require nu favours from the Ministry, and hence th e di sposal of the vacantappointment is quite unfetter e d b y any personal claim o ; behalf of the Wellington family. Would that no other private influences were in the way; but since such things do exist, they must be met boldly and openly. Te o public service must not in this case he sacrificed to aid the wheedle of the courtier, or to enhance the bribe of the partisan. The important post of Commander-in -Chief must bo 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 be 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 known by Waterloo—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 a 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 oe experi mental alterations of buttons and facings, but bona 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 experience be able to appreciate, and with cam paigning promptitude bo ready to adopt. Our loss of the Duke of Wellington must be, as far 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 a s possible candidates for the vacant command. But Prince Albert already enjoys the military title of Field Marshal, and is too well provided for to need the 161. Bs. 9 d. a day which falls to a C omman d er -i n-Chief of hie rank. The solid good sense he has hitherto shown must surely point out to him why he 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. lie 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 that ancient office has been reformed; the post of Constable of the Tower must now, in accor d ance 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 Prinoe 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 more 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 Morning 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 during which this wonderful mind was allowed to devote itself to the service of its country, anal 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 England to one than whom none has ever served;her with more honesty, wisdom,and courage —more with his whole heart—with purer mo tives—or with a sounder conscience. To the great man himself this appreciation was of little moment. He looked for no sentence from others to convince him that he had done right. The perfect sagacity which prompted, the decision which nerved, and the resolution which supported, all hisactions, sprung from a perfect clearness of mind, admitting of no after doubts, as it allowed no previous hesitation. Bat, 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 be should have been spared to gain that general recognition of his tree 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 ing 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 aver 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 been 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 highest living authority. Knowing how completely this has bean the case, it can scarcely be doubted that the same mature mind which triumphed at Assays 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 wbich 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 Burmese war, we may feel that the same head 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 and a very different service of the Duke's veteran wisdom will readily occur to most of our readers. They will, without doubt, remember how, en that memorable 10th of April, when England showed the world ,how little chance democratic madness had against the sound sense and strength of her people, all men looked to and trusted in " The Duke " as the re fuge of law and order, the safeguard of authority, if b y any strange and unlooked-for tarn of eve nts , t h e name less dangers that wait on the triumphs of a mo b h ad threatened London. Few will fail to call to mind now what was generally known then, that, under th e super intendence of the Commander-in-Chief, the military defence of every quarter and e very street in London was organized wite the utmost perfection of detail, in such a manner, that the unseen force could at a mo ment's notice, have been brou g ht i nto i rre sistible action. We will dwell no mor e on t h e particulars of a great ness so fresh in all men's minds, nor will we dilate on a loss which all will feel who are not incapable of under standing the Noble and the Good. The Duke was a household word among us. He was among the holnours and possessions of whi c h hi s country was truly.. and justly proud. It is t rue th at h e b a d reac hed his Peacefully fulness of time—th a t we l ose hi m gen tly and Pe oe under every possibl e con d it i on t h a t can console the familiar as tor the loss—yet we sh a ll m i ss f or many ” cl? We dayy shall sight and knowled g e o f .• The Duke. many a day ho w muc h o f w isdom a feel for and goodness are gone from among us. We shall wonderformany a day how long it will b e b e f ore God vouchsafe again to give to any nation to serve them a mind so powerful and keen--a heart so l o y a l an d t rue —so incapable of the least double ness of pu r p ose , or th e slightest d e viation from strict and absolute integrity. LORD JOHN RUSSELL AND THE BURGH OF STIR.. LING. --The freedom of this an cient bur g h is intended to be conferred on Lord John Russe ll, who is residing near Cal landar, p /1 mw,day meat. —dinbur,gh Courant. Li)NDON, R 16, 1852 SPORTING NOTES. No. CCCVIII. TO MORROW'S RACES AT DONCASTER, STOCK YELL'S VICTORY, &c. TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN. SlR,—The St. Leger is over, and the result has justi fied my remarks on it. On the 31st of July I thre%v out my first hi nts respec ti ng it, announcingit as my opinion that the race would lie with Daniel O'Rourke, Songstress, and Stockwell; lo'ciking to the last-named more par ticularly as the best. On the 16th of August I pro mulgated the fact, that Songstress, having damaged her foot, 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, w hi c h was not the case—an d t h e de claration of Scott that he was cure 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 y ester d ay. My announce ment respecting thejockey 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 and is a splendidly b u i ltanimal tha tremendo us s t r id e ." " I am tolerably well convinced that ho will be either first or second;" and I concluded my remarks by stating that "my verdict must be in favour of Stockwell or Daniel O'Routke." I should base gone unreservedly Cur Stockwell bad it rot been that the Mahon stable seemed so very confident of winning. The race of yesterday was almost as extraordinary a s that of Vindex's the day before. Immediately the start was effected, Alfred the Great was off at the best pace he could ma k e, w i t h Har bi nger an d St oc k we ll as his im mediate attendants; Daniel and Songstress together following, w i t h Trousseau bringing up or no change occurred until within fifty yards of the Red Rouse ; the rear. Little hare Alfred the Great was defeated, and Har- Daniel, Songstre ss going i binger took fi rst position' followed, by Stockwell and instantly afterward s a new formation took place, Stock well rushing to the front with Harbinger in hot pursuit; Daniel still in the thi rd position, Trousseau having in the meantime passed Songstress. The rest requires but little description. Stock we ll , who was never afterwards caught, won in the easie s t style imaginable by nearly a dozen lengths, Harbinger boating _Daniel a length for second place; then came Trousseau, then Songstress, and last of all Alfred the G reat, beaten off. The time, 3 min. 21 sec., with the except i on of the deciding heat in Voltigeur's year, was th e s l owest since the Baron's race, in 1845. Umbriel won the Municipal Stakes so easilythat he was immediately afterwards backed for the Derby at 20 to 1. Cariboo race for the Guineas was a completely one- . sided affair, as his opponents were not able to get 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 Eganton's account, Claverhouse 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 one from Scott's stable, probably Longbow, who will carry off this stake withl the greatest certainty. The Parkhill Stakes of 50 soya, each, It 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. THE • WING and Mr. Pit) 111:-'S filly will be first and second. _ _ A Sweepstakes of 200 sous. each, St. Leger Course, if Sackbut is not present, will bo a walk over for the colt by Ithuriel, out of Gipsy. The Don Stakes, if contested by Hobble Noble, wil 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. Th© Doncaster Cup, value 300 sovs., 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 opne it will be a very close finish between these three and Cariboo, if he runs; and that KINGSTON and TEDDINGTON will occupy the first and second places.---I am, Sir, &c., Sept. 16. THE SPIRIT OF THE TURF. SPORTING INTELLIGENCE. DONCASTER RACES. DONASTER, TUESDAY NIGHT, 12 O'CLOCK. In our report sent from the course we had only time to 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 3001, being the largest ever known. In some re spects, however, there was an obvious falling off; the only lsdies in the stewards' stand were Mrs. Lumley and Mrs. Milner, and the gathering of the aristocracy was small beyond precedent. Wo 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 Mr. De Chet,nel, 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 tor weighing. &e.—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 dull. Songstress, however, was in groat 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 Clirden's Peli e n, 2 yrs, Bst 7 1 b - (F. Butler) 1 Lord Glasgow's ch fby Don John, Est 131b(Charlton) 2 Betting-3 to lon Polio". Pelion won very easily by a length. Run in 1 min. 12 sec. The St. Leger Stakes of 25 sovs. each, for three yrs old; colts, Bst 71b; fillies, 83t 21b; the second to re ceive 100 sovs. out of the stakes; the winner to pay 100 soya. towards expenses; 25 sovs. for the judge, and 25 for the starter. St. Leger course. (116 Subs.) Lord Exeter's Stockwell ..................... (Norman) 1 The Duke of Richmond's Harbinger (Flatroan) 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. Duncombo's Alfred the Great (Barham) 6 Betting 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 agst Trousseau. The above prices, which aro 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 wee closed:a strong reaction took place, Songstress rising to 2 to 1, taken freely, and having a decided call of Lord Exeter's horse; Daniel O'Rourke receded to 7 to 2, but harbinger remained remained steady at 6to 1 . The start took place g a few minutes before three, Alfred t h e Great jumping off with a decided lead, followed in rotation, and at` wide intervals, by Harbinger and Stockwell, s next nearly abreast; the pace as good as Alfred the Great could make it. No change whatever took pl ace nntil near the Red-house where Alfred the Grfenatfrwonsts, joined by Harbinger and Stockwell, and immediately afterwards afterwards gave way. Harbinger then sho w ten lengths, but was headed in a few strides by Stockwell, went on by himself, and won in a canter by ifirbinger beating Daniel O'Rourke by a length.who Time, 3 Th ill e in M . u 2 n l ie s i e p c a . l Stakes of 200 B S e o t v 4 s l . each Red-house in. t 0 old; sa colts,ve his 3 8 , s a t k 71b;e. , y for two yrs Lord Derby's Umbriel ................... ...... secondh .. e (F. B utl e horse r l L M mor r r .. dW P G a . y l aH n s e .g ' oß s wr W o,so a kD r e w usu h bi o l o e p t h 0 n g Betting-5 to 4on Um (Flatmsn) 2 ricen:e . (Templeman) 3 3to 1 agst Doubleth riel, sto 2 ag(ejt.lncense, and a qu ie it n t g ea th h . Warwhoop made (mg. the runni until half -way up the stand-railing,, when he was joined by the favourite, who Manson) 4 Her imitatinfewinsltrinideins.f74mseheo.me, and won eesilY by five, Bst 121 b; six and aged, s 7 8 t;Majesty's four, 83 P t 1 5 a i t b e ; of 100 guineas; for a h yr_s , old 2 h. Cup Course. vine's Cariboo, . (Flatman) 1 .. ii .. J. Manson) 2 Mr. R. E.Oliver's Sir Rowland Trencher ( ..... (Charlton) 3 Mr. C. M3rBOD'S 0 by Theo", 3 yrs ... . ~,, , 5 yrs ...... .. Mr. B. Eddison's Wasp. Bumb 0 Mr. H. Robinson's Sir Charles, 5 yrs 4 yrs ............... ........(Simpson) 0 Allegro, Captain Scott's , 3 yrs ....... ....(d. Osborne) 0 -quarters a a nd mi S le ir , Mr. Morris's Recommendation, 3 yra ._ Barham ) ( 0 Betting-5 to 2on Cariboo. The race was scarcely th o r n ee Rowland Trencher making the rest ever in doubt, Caridbotohowafittrisntg ' s a 4 n s d ec willning in a canter' gas• it i n he in ru 4 n ra n i i n n g . Plate of 10 sovs. each, hft (handicap), with 70 added, for three yrs old and upwards; the dto save his stake. Red-house in. second TbyhesiDx Doncaster Mr. E, Phillips's Truth, 4 yrs, Bst 81b (Templeman) 1 Mr. Armstrong's Sabra, 3 yrs, sst 21b (Kendall) 2 Mr. Worthington's Rachetee, sst 81b --(Carroll) 3 Mr. J.M. Stanley's Clincher, 5 yrs, Bst 81b (A. Day) 0 Mr. Jones's Prime Minister, Bst 81b ...(W. Sharpe) 0 Lord J. Scott's Turnus, 6 yrs, Bst 7lb (Whitehouse) 0 Lord Derby's Croupier, 4 yrs, Bat 41b ...(Flatman) 0 Lord Eglinton's Cluverhouse, 3 yrs, 6st 1210 (Wells) 0 Mr. G. Osborne's Lady Agnes, 7st (J. °shores) 0 Lord Chesterfield's Senorita, 3 yrs, Est 41b (Ashoaall) 0 Mr. Shepherdson's fby It burial, sst 21h ......(B ates) 0 Mr. Marson's R e be c ca colt, sst 21b (F. Matso w • Betting-2 to 1 agst Truth, 4to 1 asst .sunst Senorita, 100) 0 to 15 agst Prime Minister, 100 to 15 agst Itburiei filly, and 8 to 1 agst Turnus. Won by a length; two lengths between second and third. Run in 1 min. 7 sec. 50 added for Sweepstakes of 10 sovs. each, h ft, and fiiiisiesatake. and geldingsal lowedßecllouse t ol d , T h is e t ; 5 c t c h o r u e d e , s 9 a s v t e ; s h sr 3 e lb. in. (14 Subs.) Mr. Merry's b c Lambton, 2 yrs . ........ sj k . Osborne) 1 ure S. ailwido bI by Alclbource, 2 yrs, - ...... (II tett) 2 Mr. Wilkin's Peggy, 2 yrs (Ald'et oft) o Mr. Knapton's St Andrew ...(T. Sheri vood) o Mr. Jaques's Auchinleck, 2 yrs (la Tells) 0 Lord Clifd, n's Molasses, 2 yrs (G. .11 'anti) 0 Mr. E. R. Clark's Little Swift, 2 yrs (Chars ton) o Mr. Chilton's Audubon, 2 yrs (Carooll) o Betting -7 to 4on Lambton, and sto 1 each agst Little Swift and Audubon. Won in a canter by two len, gths. We have only time to add that notwithstandit ig the wretched state of the weather—the rain never h eying ceased since one o'clock —the concourse on the c aurae was immense, being wofully deficient, however, in fashion. THE EGLINTON STALES. Vindex is declared to carry 6lb overweight, in. addi. Lion to the penalty; be will be ridden by Flatmar. LATEST BETTING. (BY ELBCTRIC TELEGRAPH.) DONCASTER CUP. 7to 4 agst Kingston (t) I sto 1 apt Stilton 7 to 4 agst Teddington (t) CESAREWITCH. I 1 to 1 agst Lady Evelyn 25 to 1 agst Lindrick 0) 12 to 1 agst Le Juif 30 to 1 agst Mrs. Birch 25 to 1 agst Waterfall (0 30 to 1 agat Kt.of Shire(t) CAMBRIDGESHIRE. 25 to 1 agst Ephesus f 25 to 1 agst Hyacinth 25 to 1 agst Koh-i•Noor I3oto 1 agst Trousseau COURT CIRCULAR. BALMORAL, SEPT. 14. Her Majesty drove yesterday afternoon, accom panied by toe Princess Royal, Princess Alice, and Princess Helena, to Invercauld-house, and remained there during the afternoon. The Countess of Desart was in attendance on her Majesty. His Royal Highness Prince Albert went out deer stalking. In the 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 o f D esar t, th e H o n. Mary Seymour, and Lieut.-C o l one l H on. A. G or d on were i n attend ance in waiting. Archdeacon Tattam has arrived at Balmoral, and had the honour of dining with her Majesty yesterday. TAT' DEATH OF lIIISS LAURA ADDISON. (From the New York Herald of the 4th inst.) Miss Laura Addison, an En g li s h ac t ress, who ar rived a few months since in thi s country, died sud denly on the Morning of the 2d inst., on board the s teamboat Oregon, on her passage rom Albany to this city. The deceased had beentoNiagraFallrs for . she h a d b een residing accompanied by m forJamess tohme Mason, sismone, benefit pi an sot. whose n famil yltiheae t a h rival of th e b oat the e body was taken by the brother of the deceased to his residence, No. 230, Sullivan-street, with the consent of Coroner Ives, who will this day, at ten o'clock, hold an inquest. Miss Addison performed one en gagement at the Broadway Theatre in this city, and on e in Boston or Philadelphia. Owing to the state of b er h ealth, she was then obliged to leave t h e stage. Yesterd ay , at the request o f t h e s i s t er o f th e de ceased, a surgeon was called to hold a post mortem examinatio n on the body, as suspicions rested in the minds of the relatives respecting the real cause of death. Accordingly the coroner, accompanied by Dr. Lidell, the post mortem surg eon , went yester day mornin g to No. 230 , Su llivan-street, with a view of making the necessary investig ation, ation, when, to their surprise, th ey ascertained that body of and others, who nue Avenue e Miss Addison had bee n removed from the house the cparuevseiodustbaeftsearmneootnb, be e y b M u r ried nmia se t n be s burying-ground. The following statement has b een made to the co roner by the relatives :a—Mrs. H oward, the sister of Ludlo deceased,w-s it married seems lady, received, residin g Wednesday, aat No. 230, telegraphic dispatch from Albany, informing h er t h at te a t, Miss Addison had, that day, at about one o'clock, expired, and for her to meet the body on the arrival 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 hav e 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 maw 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 OD Thursday afternoon several gentlemen came to the house and insisted upon the burial of the body ; r.mong 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 rhe 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 several others, have been subpoenaed to attend the inquest. Since the above was in type we have seen Mr. James J. Ring, who has placed us in possession of many other facts in this lamentable affair, and given us, no doubt, the true version of the whole matter. Mr. Ring says that for some months past the deceased had been travelling with Mr. and Mrs. Mason, and in Louisville, Kentucky, she was taken ill with fever on the brain ; afier a short time she recovered suffi ciently to proceed to Niagara Falls. Here she again was taken ill, during which time she was attended by the best physicians to be found in the vicinity, who informed her friends that much danger was to be an ticipated ; however, she recovered sufficiently to enable her to proceed as far as Buffalo; here again she was taken down nick, and at times became almost a raving maniac ; but on Monday last she rallied somewhat, and it wa s deemed advisable by the phy sicians to proceed on to New York, as soon as 1"s -sible, as her ultimate recovery was considered hopeless. On Monday Mr. and Mrs. Mason procured the most com:4table accommodations on the cars, and arrived in Albany on T uesday morning. Several of the first. class hotels Were applied to, but the proprietors re fused to admit the deceased in the house, as it was , feared she had the choera arriving as they tha t morning from Buffalo. dr. Masan. asecehrtoatienj I n t g bey p was impossible to obtain admittance 1n Oregon, then proceeded forthwith to the steam- bo attoeave that evening at lying at the dock, advertised • The captain of tiae boat 7 o'clock for New gentlemanly-il received the deceased very humanely and provided th e best of attention for the on board, and unfortunate sufferer ; there were also comfort of the leminent physicians, who admi nistered attendance severa l power towards her recovery; but, nistered all in effect,their as death ensued about one o'clock alas! to no The body was then conveyed to this that afternoo n ! d eco mposition of the body had already far a dvanced , city, and a s it was deemed advisable by Mr. Ring Mason that the body should be placed in receiving VaUt• and Mr . 1 Accordingly the funeral was an flounced, the Rev. Mr. Ant . hon performed the sacr e d r i tes on the occasion, and the body was deposited i n the pr iv ate vault owned by Mr. Ring in the S econ d , Avenue burying-ground. The rumoured report that the deceased had met her death by some foul means, Mr. Ring asserts, is cruel in the extreme; on the contrary, Mr. and Mrs. Mason bad done all in their power that was possible for them to do, with the fond hope of being able to restore her once more to health ; but, accordi ng to the opinion of the best medical ev id ence, the fe verhad completely destroyed her r eason, and she sank under its fatal effects. Mr. Ring further adds that no objection was ever made to a post mortem exami nation of the body at a proper season, but not to delay the obsequies on the (ley of the funeral. Every facility will be given by Mr. Ring towards satisfying the friends of the deceased and the public mind, that the death was one of natural causes. The certificates of several of the physicians who attended the deceased be procured, and exhibited to the coroner this will day, NEW HARNES FOR HER MAJESTY'S CARRIAGE ITORSES.—We yesterday had the pleasure of ins p ectin g set of harn ess f or the carria e horses of her Majesty , just finished by Mr. K ay Dinsdal g e, 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 folisge, 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. The head-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 for show only. We cannot doubt that a style of execu tion so complete and appropriate will ensure it extensive patronage. - - TELEGRAPHING THE ST. LEGER.—Yesterday, 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 henna. k Y.) light 3prel , Icherlt inetta• d. Arlo, 3 bld. r, Et* Her• e d LO go' teved I,''' a d Ono 3 and M i n Arra' jobn the i We s Pre been W. -- riPo rt i ; pA ordr , 0 , of VW 2d; ° 13 8(1 101 l lofick lov er load' L o ver load' Aid ' titer od to 81b6 col igish ; scl; Slbe• th 6 4s; b• } b 6 vato pith on ILO t he an/ 'ere 11 1 1 0 00 DIC' aid ,ed ies