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

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Bat it was not fair to attack the half -year merely because it was possible last half-year to pay a larger dividend than 31 per cent. The chances were that when the day came for the renewal of the charier, some strict economist in the House of Cournons would propose some alteration which might affect the dividend, but at present there was no necessity to; en tering into the matters brought forward by Mr. Do Winton. Mr. DE W INTON rose , amidst some opposition, and admitted that tae 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 us one-and-a-half per cent. it would produce 90,000/. a year. If the accounts were placed re gularly before the proprietors every half - year he was c onvinced the pro p rietors would have a la r g er dividend, an d hey would, besides, be enabled to judge for themselves whether the business , was era i d 'Di ucted in th e m ost economical way possible. e ion. Proprietor then gave notice that at the newt meet ing he would propose that a copy of the accounts be rmeglrue stock, lilytransmitted to alt proprietors holding 5001. or at least three days before every half-yearly Meeting. COOK deprecated the suggestion made by Mr. Do vvinton as to the more extended publication of the ac "nuts, inasmuch as the Bank of England was not lik e 4 provincial establishment, but had to manage the transactions of the Liover.atuent, which could not be leaked into. Mr, NI —ASTERDIAN, M.P., alluded to the present scarcity of silver, and inquired whether any measures were iu p r ogress for rendering the supply more plentiful. The GOVERNOR said the Bank of England had auf t'ved as much inconvenience as any of the London bankers from the want of silver, which be be 'laved had been caused by the abstraction of a certain quantity of silver coin for emigration , at a time when ! liv er was in general demand for agricultural purposes in connexion with the harvest. This silver was abstracted at a peculiar moment, and to a greater extent probably than it could be under any other Cir cumstanc es. Mr. Masterman, as well as every W I) " banker in London, was aware that the In k of England had no control over the silver Circulation.r, They were supplied with the coin by the Gov ernment, and they were not allowed to hold a larger a mount of it than was necessary for their ordinary vo u uu k ing purposes. B ut at t h e same time they endea.. tired to g i ve every f ac ili t y f or th e di s t r ib u ti on o f s il ver , rti aud th e y k ept up at cons id era bl e expense an establish elt almost exclusively for the purpose of arranging ingr ess and egress of silver, so as to give rise to as t reinconvenience as possible in its general distribu tion. It wa s with very great unwillingness they three any impediment in the way of London bankers ilarge sums of silver for their country cor sPandents, who seemed to think that the u tak was bound to give every amount they tk 'ed for, without regard to the amount in f ° treasury a t th e ti me . It was quite impossible o il to r the Bank to accede to their requests, but the ra direc n_ had ord ere d a quantity of silver coin, and he be- Zved ea all difficulties in obtaining a supply would speedily Ppear.—(fl ear .) —lle divid en d was th e n agreed to, and the warrants 11Touticed to be payable on and after the 11th of Oc 10eer next. The proceedings then terminated. HEREFORD MUSICAL FESTIVALS S hire EVENING.—The concerts are held at the Ire Hall. Th e a tt en d an ce this evening was car tdnlY more promisiug than the one at the cathedral -48 morning. There were between 300 and 400 re tie -4 . " •The overture to Zauberfote commenced the 4 .' Part—it was played well. Herr Formes sang an fade from Spohr's Faust with his usual vigour, and ac le a wonderful impression upon the Herefordshire People on this his first appearance. Mrs. Enderssohn to g ild r Al es i t s i s tig lV ,,, illiams gave Mendelssobn's pleasing duet, in capital style, but it was not suitable the taste of the audience, who scarcely noticed it. a b rilliant Clara N ove ll o then came forward, and made impression by her rendering of a cavatina tb Ca gnoni. The English Glee and Madrigal Union sh ) l performed Webbe s glee " A generous friend -14.1113,' in legitimate and unaffected style. Miss Wil- Ins was encored in Land's pretty ballad, " The ,4 3 ." girl's love." The march, chorus, and quartett, fip` t , ail ye, heroes," brilliantly performed, closed the ' 8 „; part of the concert. tu The second act opened with Weber's Oberon over -84,,re,, capitally played, but the wind instruments were th ' l 3' too loud. Sir H. Bishop's glee, " Where art ee ?u, beam of light," performed by the "Union," re kived a most unanimous encore. The same compli eat Was awarded Madame Clara Novello and Mr. , 4 1 .„.." Reeves, for their brilliant singing of the duet r tin tenere core," from Donizetti's Roberto Deve :lie' The marigal, " The Lady Oriana, was badly rvrformed by the chorus, who were huddled together Ithout th e s li g h test arrangemen t as t o th e p ar t s or ~eY were si ng i ng . M a d ame Clara Novello's singing A.b non giunge," was a splendid specimen of vo- Nisation. Mr. Sims Reeves sang "Corn 'e gentil," T he choru s , accompan i e d on th e h arp b y M r. T rust. 4: he concert concluded w ith Si r H. Bi s h op ' s qu i ntett Et'ad chorus, " Home, there's a storm," sung by Mrs. nderssohn, Miss Williams, Mr. H o bb s , an d M r. H. kiarnby. WEDNESDIY MORNING. — The cathedral this morn exhibited a marked improvement in the att en d ance. .he performance included Haydn's C rea ti on. Pohr's sacred cantata, " God, Thou art great," from Sound an a l arm ," by Sims Reeves, and a sele c ti on t Beethoven's service in C. The performance of Creation was progressing most satisfactorily Iv! tc our notice was forwarded. ) I ;The colle c ti o n at the cathedral doors amounted to d i ug bein g a decrease on the sum collected the fir s t i n 1849 of 551., when it reached 2301. trb DONCASTER RACES. (THIS DAY.) (I( ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH.) . t P Sweepstakes of 10 sovs. eacb. Red House in. a lt ,„ 4-37 ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• 1 A rnett a „.. 2 e° l Trum ps ••• ••• ••• 3 EGLINTON STAKES BETTING. 7 to 4 agst Vindex 6 to 4 ag:t Fallon 7 to 2 agst Exact a., 8 C01., - " g tilli - J S U CENTRAL RAlLWAY.—Tra ffi c for the Week Vept. 12, 1852 : as sengers (18,848), parcels, horses, and carria ges . ... ... £ 1,720 16 6 oOds, cattle, &c.... ••• 750 010 ••• ---. Total .. 2,474 17 4 Ilertk.;h rresponding week in last year... 2,460 0 8 boaSePt. 15, 1852. "Prr affi '2 , l4l. BNDON ...PAILwAY.—(2O miles pen) Return for th e week ending Sept. 11, 1852: irengers, parcels, &c. ..- £175 2 4 etehandise, ... 34 10 0 eotr es ,, Total ••• £209 12 4 PLl n uing week in 1851 (10 miles open) : kerleilrcrilparcels, 36 7 10 Total £36 16 11 , % 11 ,„ 40 4th ;-1414ENT, GRATIS !—ln the Proprietor r. tli f ,%,.,.his Grace the Duke of Wellington,consequence of . the *pp' - ' Y ee% next, the 19thanst . ., Af t "lent with their journal on!Sun . aY s biography of his Dispatch have determined upon presenting a ,*tEteaaPPlement will contain a copdou olitical career, with . Il lt, cl4„.%;ealnprising his military a P eminent an indivi atal -v'adical matter connected with gm 48 m$ cal complete the sketch of his an t v a ar t i h ed e annedwaevxatnrdaoarra ie torY life. All orders should be given •/),,,.,_,,:taehanotecenntry without delay, or forwarded to the , ji.,, , Ta i bar ill ' l r WITH THE A DivisioN or station, conveying towa thee special train had left Woking :.: all:ll.ht..d:sroeicttioterschand friends of the qtle " 13 Y, and just friends getting s x ta .atian , allr Necropolis b ady o f atga,°`lbg and Ch ara t n ey assembled on the common and ereet',,,p break 8 1 characters who infest the nei a ghbourhoods t jn• e ", for li ce had eo t)- gunnt th a doccasion. th w e n r B . the hTurhdelesmesturrarpoaulnitcicitang pa the tent as ; just, howevera, . til t Of g u ,..._ seadday used theutmcoomstmioarnbearance towards a V iii . l ,.Deli ee P PC__ e claimants to the th , ,, ed. In7r departing several of the ringleaders d a _ I,_ Q•Ont-, s pector Field . who was on the spot (by order f . Z',.!k;--Cllheti(olners of Police), advised the riotous lot to . keep i l c i: :-Nte blo w no. sooner said so than a fellow dealt him a Ivi t Z % la ewo with a stick, which he n cleverly parried ; hi s of tti e ,„ 1 '; was severed in two. .Inspector Dirking then, t00tt5,,..-gan, formed a line, and, assisted by Inspector . Page, I•,," ° lver VeY c onstabulary, they drew their staves amidst a • -il t thi n Sbies bottles and other missiles, speedily puttingto al%t la 1 11 eaB crew, and restoring order on the common Lott of ZZening closed in. It is but right the people in this 17444 Co untry should know that those who have been . in kivrllview-tIZ ath_eir tenements for only ten years the direc- NZ 04 -7t dust a n d and that compensation will be fair scale. This common is utterly ta llt a t ile etl i ti ' a cept for t . lopurposes of a cemetery, and . is one tat burials, by which we shall get entirely rid of intra -1-411 aia, Int "V EMENT IN THE PERTH WEAVING TRADE , , ar e 1 6.'' 1 1 Ep, g l ad to learn that all our native manufacturers, " " the Glut! w agents have made an advance on 4:t '''' of l i - o • - ' corr e s ponding to what we en v ite m , a od - weaving, corresp . Glasgow. The ad . 414 ian Week had taken place in . • *3 , I 8 Pro • li t + 4,, Portioned to the various qualities woven in the o ti Nt's v,"4 Portioned be stated as equal to one shilling on the .If l „.aler e i,gee• The manufacturers would, we believe, take "rffi.Wir'ends than they can find, and so would the agents. 1.,.. e Advertiser. e't o q tl arri val nu liit 4a n .8 at Whitehaven Castle have beenOn Fri -0 tha I' (1 diatingUiShed within the last few days. iv - 4 -arl fL ." . il f ,„ al (-\ 0 onsdale, Major Chambre, " 4 ot•V'll Saturday the party was increased by the a d s i and Mr. Johnston d.. Z a ki, (l'e Countess of Essex and her daughter, LadyA. L ttler,"lSattday Mr. Shilling and Dr. Wardrop were added... i l ti lt um ber and yesterday evening the party 1111'. 4„aVorEssex. Capt. Lowther, M.P. and Mrs. Low , was joined . 4„ a sti ll ttit etayieg at the castle.--Cumberiand ro c q uec °I THE SU N, iENTII OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. THE DUKE'S LAST MOMENTS. WALMEB, 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 age. The Duke retired to rest on elonday 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 Vs'reilesley, 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. Hulke, 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 uniortunately with out any good effect. The Duke's condition gradually became more dangerous—he was seized by a second convulsive fit of greater violence than the first, and the alarm of his son and daughter-in-law, Lord and Lady Charles Wellesley, painfully increased. At this critical emergency, a messenger was dispatched to the telegraph office at the Deal railway station for the purpose of immediately summoning Dr. Hume from London to his Grace's assistance. In case Dr. Hume should be absent from town, the message specified that Dr. Ferguson should be next applied to ; but, unfortunately, it so happened that both of these eminent physicians were in Scotland at the time when the message reached their residences. This failure having been reported to the noble inmates of the Castle, Lord Clanwilliam (captain of Deal Castle), who had hastened thither on bearing of the Duke's illness, recommended that Dr. Williams, of London, should be summoned to Walmer. 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 Countess of Westmoreland at Dover, on her return to Vienna, for the purpose of seeing her on board the packet which was to take her across the Straits to the Continent; but infor mation was conveyed to the Countess at an early hour that illness would prevent his Grace from fulfilling his 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 Palmer, and al so th e adjacent town of Deal, have experienced a most painful sensa tion at the melancholy event. Yesterday all the shops in both places were partially closed ; and the flags at every public building, at Deal Castle, and at various other elevated points, were lowered half-mast high in token of reverence for the memory of the depart e d. A t Dover, likewise, the mournful tidings excited similar manifestations ; and from the Castle Keep, from the Admiralty station, the Harbour house, the Pilot house, &c., the union-jack drooped, half-struck, as a symbol of public woe. Lord Fitzroy Somerset paid a visit of condolence to the inmates of the Castle yesterday, and numerous 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. illiam 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 balfmast high. From the pier. heads of St. Katharine's, London, East and West India Docks, the flogs 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 scarcely a craft Navigation Company were among the first to drop their colours from the tore, main, and wizen; and waseredown d w a n i t c h e o d u , t displaying the emblem of mourning. Lower down the river the the see n morning going same feeling was exhibited, and as soon as the home ward bounders learned the sad tidings their flags were at once lowered. Tun 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 establishmen t s on Tower-hill and D eptford, and the hoisting of the colours half-mast high at the Trinity stores at Blackwell, and other parts of the coast. A similar mark of respect will be exhibited at the different light-houses and ships as soon as the ll' i o e t igence can reach them. The late Duke was elected one of the elder bretbren in 1829, and on the death of the Marquis Camden, in 1837, was appointed M as t er of the corporation. THE TOWE. --IP h e R different offices of the garrison and depot were partially closed on the intelligence being received of the death of his Grace, who for important some years had held the office of Constable of the Tower of London. T he bell of St, r a ter ad LONDON, greatest conquerors and commanders have always done their special work rapidly. The last campaigns of Alexander, Caesar, and Napoleon were clossd before or about the period of the energy of middle life; Frederick of Prussia and Marlborough each commanded in the field after th e age of fifty; but the Duke o f W ellington affords al most a solitary instance of a great warrior whose life was prolonged—and that for every active duties in other departments of State service—nearly forty years after his last battle was height. The Duke's actual career a s a soldier was shorter t h an hi s pu bli c life as a st a t esman. But what was that career, f rom eighteen—Arth ur W ellesley ' s age w hen he received his first co mm i ss i on—to six-and-forty, w h en h e was hailed P r i nce o f W aterloo? We cannot b etter esti mate it than by reviewing the difficulties which the Great Captain had to face, and by contrasting his achievements wi,h those of his most illustrious rival. 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 fame of England was at a decided ebb at the close of th e e i ghteenth century. The glories of Blenheim and Malplaquet and, only su rvived as rapidly de caying traditio ns; a ; ---, . 1 1 truth, Marlborough's career itself was exc e pti ona l , and but an evanescent burst of triumph. Fifty years ago, England was unknown or forgotten on the Continent as a European military power. All antecedent presumptions were against us. We had been ignominiously defeated in our American colonies. The conquests of Clive—the real basis of our coming grandeur —were so recent and indistinct as to be co m p ar atively 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 toe distant to be influential. Our last Conti , nental general, the Duke the world to expect m uc h from our reappearance on the field of European strif e . I t was reserved for Wellesley to inaugurate his military career in the Duke of York's calamitous and impotent expedition to Holland. An d i t was well for his training, m oral as well as professional, presence that it began in theof Cumberland, had not led of disaster and defeat. Ad versity is a safe school in which to educate a conqueror. The experience of military incapacity which Wellesley gained in the swamps of Holland was his first, and, perhaps, his most valuable lesson in war. Tho scene changes. The willow bank is succeeded by the palm-tree grove. From the mists of the Low Coun tries, Colonel Wellesley is launched on the burning plains of South India. The calmness and patience learned in Europe are soon chequered by the impetuou s energy which must decide an Oriental battle. Assaye an d Seringapatam are the complement of the dull, but sa l utary, service on t h e Weser and the Meuse. The general has now received i . He his perf e ct t rain ing—the man of Waterloo has been moulded in the most opposit e sc h ools of discipline. , and beneficially, to be has learn e d h ow t o h an dl e a defeated and disheartened corps —h e h as a l so h a d g l or i ous experience in launching the successful thunderbolts of rear. Yet his n ex t cam paign must be undertaken under different, b u t s till most t r yi ng, circumstances. The expedition to Portugal was all but a forlorn hope. A r p e r v e e v a i e l eada—abt u t e t m o p n t i y u t n o d e g r i f S t e i d r J h o u b d a there was true stuff in the Bri t i s h soldier. The army v M ery oo k re een ha e d y , es i_nd t e h e a d t , was unpopular, both at home and abroad; and a general feeling prevailed that we were an invincible naval, but a contemptible military power. The Ministry of the day was unable to equip anything like an imposing force. Command was not merely divided, but was subjected to a complexity of su bordination which ren dered unity of a ction im p os sible; and the discredit able Convention of Cintr!, was not likely to inspire confidence or hope. Sir Arthur Wellesley en tered on his first responsible European command under 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 made it his first duty to create an army, and his next to fight with it. Throughout his Peninsular campaigns, this was the foremost thought with Wellington —to husband his army ; and this, we may confidently say, is the solitary secret of his eventual success. It was the application of a high conscientious sense of moral duty. It was in this respect that 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 Gurwood's publication smacks of the War-office clerk, the Victoires et Conqiietes has an undeniable twang of the minor theatre. The result was, that Marengo :Ind Austerlitz collapsed into Waterloo, whilst Corunna ex panded into Vittoria and Salamanca. We are not writing a military Plutarch—so we need not pursue the parallel in all its details. But we 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 d e pots. Napoleon won personal enthusiasm—Wellington earned universal confi dence. dence. Napoleon was t h e idol of his so ldi ers —We ng ton was the friend of his army. Napoleon made men aspire to the L eg i on o f H onour or to a Marshal's baton —Wellington kn ow no hi gher rewar d t h an the t han ks of the two Houses o f P arliament. W e llington fought for his country—N a p o l eon for himself. Between them, as commanders, t h ere was not, tec h n i ca lly speaking, so much to cho ose . Each knew how to wield his masses —each was perfect i n manceuvrs o each was a gene ra l of absolute science. The British Commander was slow in acquiring confi dence—the French Emperor was headstrong Ind un manageable in defeat. Ti me and exper ience did their work differently on ea c h, b ecause t h e y represented his final charges dis tinct moral principl es . Wellington, in and his pursuit of v i ctory on th e slopes of Jean, equalled the most brilliant and impetuous attacks of Napoleon in hi s b est days ; but at Waterloo for po rloo Na leon had neglected a general ' s first duty, •°r he had not made the sligh tes t provision for a retr eat. And that has re mighty conflict of p r i nc i ples, as well as o f armies , 00 was as stilted in a thirty- seven years' peaces W a ter' much a moral as a military victory. A single furthe r ill ustration will s h o w this cardinal difference of mor a l s i n the two men , a nd will account for their opposite f ortunes. We allu d e to the contrast between the Fren c h an d the English treatment of raw levies. Napol eon used them up f or the occasion— men were to him a s mus k ets, and nothing more. Wel lington saw in hi s recruits not only materials for p his immediate purpose, but re sponsible beings, t soldiers. An whom it was his duty t o tra i n into efficiee utter recklessness and di srekard o f human life was the characteristic of the o ne policy— a Pain f l and anxious of the solicitude for the health an d consequ ent usefulness h. Napoleon men was the guiding p r i nc i p l e o f t he oter. whole dis fought battles, stormed towns, and laid wasteation—Welling tricts with fire and sword to paralyze a . ll a planned cam ton never fired a cannon but as a step I L British—Jaffa paign. Torres Vedras is the type of t mind. but too faithful an illustration of the French to the merely ' Nor is this moral contradiction confinedreers which we military contrasts developed by the made ea splendid fortune have been contemplating. Scutt a or a jewel in the by robbery; but there is not a picture _., Hi which was not halls of Wellington or Beresford, or a gift or a p urc h ase . W ell i ngton saved Paris from the murdered the barbarian threats of Blucher — Napoleon matters we Duo D'Enghien. And even in the smallest_ endured patiently the trace a like contrariety. Wellington e.as Spanish colleagues, associated incapacity of Cuesta and his t without p pique • while if not without a murmur, at less rnadotte. Napoleon ostracised the talents of Be temporising and Welling ton had the art to conciliate, by prudent of allies—he sound judgment, the most intractab le obstinacy of Madrid re duced the Junta of Cadiz and the to a har m l ess dependence; w hile Napoleon could not h retain the trai n o f monarc hs who were in league with him. Finally —for these things a re not without their abiding and e t erna l lesson to mankind—the great to each of these avenger and reconciler has en awarded°plate end and retribu mighty rivals his a " r exile and a prisoner—venting lion. Napoleon died se envy by leaving a legacy the bitterness of unrepented d the assassination of his to the wretch who attempted co nqueror; but it was reserved for Wellington to enter tain in hi s own h ouse , and at a social banquet, the ablest of t h e Frenchcaptains who had years befor e n opposed hi m i n t h e field. N a poleon has left a name which, at thi s moment, works as the substantial curse of his country ; whilst one universal every f rom British heart acclaim of blessing and honour n oble chieftain. U n til re salutes the euthanasia of oar noble will point the m ora li s t' s tnotest ti me t h e f ate o f Napoleon mark the intrin s i c hol most indignant satire, and i eof ambition and tyranny; lowaess, vileness, and failure will boundwith delight - generations oun but the most distant at the r eco ll ect i on o f him who best illustrat e d, un d er un - paralleled diffi cu lti e s and temptations, the common vin- Ines an d duty, an d reverence for l aw, r i g h t , and truth, an d of honesty loyalty andr atriotism. The one i s t h e . —the oth er b e l ongs dromance property of a fi t f u l a nd lot _ of fame . Blasted laurels to the cal m di gn i ty historic fell on th e solitary tomb r . of St. Helena; but the p a t r i o t' s myrtle and th e civic oa- - a shall wreath the bi er o f our lived but for ' himself— hero. And justly; for Napoleon . all bat himself . The highest Wellington worked for a was— " To drag a world ambition of Napoleon in his fall . • .ni into the mire with m. „ all his milit ary The b es t reward o f W e llington, after glories, was but " To return home into life, and to become A fellowman his fellow. men." (From among;theity News.) Wellington's death a rich batch of By the Duke of Minister—places of places falls into the lap of the moat showy td mot the richest, and honours of the co al of some of these wind_voted class. With the disposal to meddle—i n re ference to falls the p others, it is üblic have but little theirright serious and urgent duty to newly -vacant Garter— interfere. Who shall have the ' Grace of That shall wear whether my Lord This or his . 1 The blue riband is one it is not the affair of the people, ' 1 tat those distinctions ranch in . prized for its rarity; intended for th e ar i stocracy , an d the disposal of which the Crownand the Minister are exclusively unti tled to decide. Vincula, the church of the fortress, was tolled at int,-rvals during the day. OXFORD, SEPT. I.s.—Great sensation has been produced here by the intelligence of the lamented death of the Chancellor of the University. It is true that his Grace was not in the habit of visiting the place, or of exercising any direct infl uence i n 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 rewesentative 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. Ile 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 attain.ed by the late Chancellor, end the merits and demerits of several candidates have probably heen d•scu4sed 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. LIVERPOOL.—The tidings of the death of the Duke of Wellington caused a general feeling of depression in Liverpool yesterday. The reports received by telegraph late on Tuesday night were vague and contradictory, but the dispatch of yesterday morning was decisive. The flags on the various public buildings were lowered, and the shutters of many 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 and hi s then distinguished colleagues, long subsided, and whatever differences of opinion might have existed with regard to the public policy of England's great warrior and his lamented friend, they had for many years past won and enjoyed per sonally, as honest statesmen the respect and confi dence of the people of th e se 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 ell would feel should ho 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. Eighteen years ago we remember that it was commonly said that the work of the Peninsula was beginning to tell on that iron frame, and since that men have predicted—till they were wearied or ashamed of predicting—that each Waterloo banquet would prove the last. Of late years increasing infirmities—manifest, though energetically resisted— the treacherous ear, the struggli ng utterance, an d the tottering stip, all told their tale and sug gested even a fear that the greatest m an o f his age might live to illustrate the decay from which no greatness is secure. Yet the event, so long in sight, as it were, has come upon us by surprise. More than that, we venture to affirm that the reality, in its impression and effect, will prove very different from the anticipation. When a man of high inventive and original powers is with drawn from us in the full swing of his activity, we miss a forward spirit, a dexterous debater, or an eloquent tongue. We know exactly what we lose, and we can measure our loss; but it is not so when a pillar of the State is broken, and a tower of strength crumbles to dust. In that 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 sum of his other qualities, and which ren dered him in the judgment oflthe great French diplo matist " the most capable man" of his time, was that he always know what was best to be dene in the actual state of affairs, and had the wisdom and courage to do it. In this there was but little show, and sometimes not a little obloquy. There was no personal pride, no egotistic glory, in discerning and obeying the dictation of circumstances. The exercise of this quality in the face of adverse circumstances and an overpowering foe afforded frequent occasion to the terror of alarmists and the malice of detractors during the changing fortunes of the Peninsular war. The Duke always knew when to advance, and when to give way, and when to rest content with a purely defensive posi tion. But the grounds on which he thus acted could not be always so apparent to others, who saw no courage except in resistance, and recognised no genius except in i ts triumphs. The same trials, the sarre necessities, have characterized the Duke's long political career, and he has always met them and mastered them with his old rule of doing the best that could be done. This was not to lead a party or to represent a principle. Of course, it failed to satisfy those who think the prosperity of the country not worth concession or compromise. Hence it is that the Duke's military and political life have so 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 objects no longer attainable; to sacrifice his predilections and himself, and do only what was best for his country. It is this very characteristic, so humble and inglorious, which has rendered the Duke of Wellington the great arbiter of factions, the chief of the Senate, th e "Fi rst Consul" of this Republic, and " the father of his coun try."Erheitadsyheen to give his appealed It is this that has given him a constant pl ace at advicethe ri without ght h and r o a f v t o n u e r or prejudice, Throne. ve h r e to at the most difficult junctures, with the unanimous concurrence of all parties. It was not that the Duke had no opinions or predilections of his own; he had them as strorgly 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 n o t be so easily supplied even by the fresh memories and living traditions of a wise policy. In the collision of in terests and the dead lock of parties we may some day want a man, not to proclaim a principle, or to preach a crusade, or to goad on a faction, or perhaps to drive the Crown itself, as once in our annals, to fatal extremities, but to tell all plainly the best thing to be done. W e 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,when others were for pressing onwards, will no more be raised. The Argus-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, w h o planned the secret defences of this metropolis in an hour of need, who was believed to be capable of meeting 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. N or i s the loss ours alone, for the Duke of Wellington was the greatest man and the most potent name in the whole world. some Foreign as well as internal foes will feel a weight off their souls; foreign friends will feel our alliance theoff weaker. he mere presence and example of such a man was felt to be security for our g ood orde r and stability. , " While the Duke lives , " has lon g bee n a favourite e xpression with those who feared or desired a chan ge . ‘ l years, result We of rea ci in the And sac the red la great deliverance, followed by the rule of the deliverer ‘A himself. That rest we have ha d . Lookin g to the im portant periods, and the portant advice he has given at critical u n n d na h ls ad as rest the for n at 40 u r a incalculable weight of his standi n g authorit y , it may be said of the Duke, more than of any Bri tish 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 will be fels. Nor is the political horizon very clear at this moment. The Premier has a great windfall of places and dignities to dispose of; but he may soon be made to miss the great man whose uni versal powers were faintly expressed in the accumula tion of his offices and honours. Happily so energetic a mind has left not merely its impress on the age, but worthy successors, in a race of men who have already had ample opportunities of illustrating, in peace as in war, the example of their illustrious chief. Happily, also, it seems a law of 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 Chronicle.) The Duke of Wellington's career as a General ex tended only over twenty-eight years; but his life was pXQIQDged beyond hia eighty-tbird birth-day. The THURSDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 16, The same may, perhaps, be said of the two Lord -Lien tenancies of Hampshire and of the Tower Hamlets. These are offices in the peculiar gift of the Sovereign, and of her advisers for the time being—offices which can and may be allotted as seems best to those in whose gift the law places them. The colonelcy in the Grenadier Guards, With its 1,200/. a year, will be a military perquisite—the Mastership of the Trinity-house concerns Tower-hill, and the Chancellorship of Oxford will give a topic and a duty to the Dons of that ancient seat of unreformed l earning. 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 an affair of vital importance to the well-being of the country. Whilst the Duke of Wel lington lived nobody ever seriously thought of disturbing any of the offices in his peculiar possession. The country seemed never tired of rewarding him, as the round sums one after another voted to him by Parliament sufficiently testify. After Badajos and Salamanca they gave him 100,0001. to buy him an estate; after Toulouse 400,000/. more; and after Waterloo another round sum 0f_200,000/. —besides voting him a pension for his own life and for the lives of his two next male heirs of 2,0001. a year, subsequently raised to 4,0001., and paid from the Conso lidated Fund. This pension will now be paid to the pre sent Duke of Wellington, and, since he has no children, afterwards to Lord Charles Wellesley, should he sur vive his brother, and, if not, to his heir male. Inheriting their father's titles, pension, and great private wealth, the children of the late Duke require no favours from the Ministry, and hence the disposal of the vacant ap pointment is quite unfettered by any personal claim on 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. Th e public service must not in this case be sacrificed to aid the wheedle of the courtier, or to ,enhance the bribe of the partisan. The important post of Commander-in-Chief must be given to a thorough veteran soldier. We are told every now and then that our coasts are in danger; if they really were so, what we should do if a carpet knight, an aristocratic routineist, or a mere martinet of the drill held the chief post of military power? We have seen in the career of the great soldier who has just passed away the vast importance of sterling practical ability for the active operations of war. Sir Arthur Wellesley became Commander- in-Chief because he was a victorious general; the history of the late Duke of York shows what come of appointments based on claims of another sort—claims of pedigree and family position. The Duke of York became Commander-in- Chief because he was son of a King. The one is 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 bands 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, nut showy o: experi mental alterations of buttons and facings, but bond fide im provements in the dress and arming of our forces. The last thirty-seven years have made great military reforms abroad, some portion of which it would be well to have adopted here. These a new Commander should from old experience be able to appreciate, and with cam paigning promptitude be ready to adopt. Oar loss of the Duke of Wellington must be, as far as possible, made up by the wisdom exercised in the appointment of his suc cessor at the Hors e G uar d s . P r i nce A lb ert and the Duke am candidatesbridge h leave both the beenvaca vacant dby command. rumour as But Prince Albert already enjoys the military title of Field Marshal, and is too well provided for to need th e 161. Bs. 9d. a day which falls to a Commander-in-Chief of his rank. The solid good sense he has hitherto shown mu st surely point out to him why he should not aspire to w ield the baton resigned by the victor of Waterloo. In deedof possible the rumour is too absurd. The Duke of Cambridge, too, must surely be content with the many advantages which his elevated birth has already secured to him. He would never do. Other vacancies suggest other evils that may come of improper appointments. The Lord Wardenship of the Cinque Ports should remain open till the jurisdic tion of that ancient office has been reformed; the post of Constable of the Tower must now, in accordance with former plans, be placed on proper footing. Need ful and proper changes being made, the first of these appointments may probably fall to the lot of the Prince Consort, and Weimer Castle become a second Osborne House. But this is a matter for the future —at present the chief need is, that Lord Derby should be reminded of the onus now weighing upon him. This shower of pa tronage brings its duties equally with its gratifications; and whilst we concede to him the fullest freedom in the bestowal of the mere honorary distinctions, he must re member the national responsibility undertaken by the Minister who has to provide for national honour, secu rity, and welfare, and to guard against political opposi tion and personal disgrace. (From the Morning Post.) The Duke of Wellington is no more. One of the greatest, noblest, and best lives that history has ever been charg©d 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, and to brighten our age with great achieve ments, has had the effect, among other benefits, of bring ing men to one ,opinion as to the love, the reverence, and the gratitude, due from 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 histactions, sprang from a perfect clearness of mind, admitting of no after doubts, as it allowed no previous hesitation. But, for the friends of the great principles and high feelings which the Duke of Wellington upheld through out his long and unblemished life, it is a matter for thankfulness that he should have been spared to gain that general recognition of his true worth and nobleness —that verdict from the justice of time which the states man must too often be content to hope for rather than to enjoy. Time was when envy, party hatred, the spirit of mis chief, the pen of libel, and the tongue of calumny were busy enough about a name which, ere its owner left us, had become the most popular in England, the most honoured, as well as the most famous, in Europe. Another very rare and very great privilege enjoyed by this illustrious person was the unclouded and undis turbed state in which, to the very last, he retained the use of powers such as are rarely bestowed on humanity, and yet more rarely used with the constant and unrelent ing energy which were demanded by a career, including within its limits the rise of our Indian glory, the mas tery of our greatest military epoch, the lea 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 ever been conscientiously and loyally devoted—that of his Sovereign and his coun try. Removed for many years, as the Duke had been, from all possibility of personal ambition—untainted by any possible suspicion of the petty motives of mere party politics, his part had long 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 been the case, it can scarcely be doubted that the same mature mind which triumphed at Assaye will have had its weight and influence on the conduct of what we may hope will be the closing campaign of that long series of triumphs which is destined to complete our empire in the East. If this be so, and if, as we have heard, some of the very latest working hours of the great Statesman and Con queror were busied with the progress of the Burm ese War, we may feel that the same head and hand that were active about the foundation of our mighty succe sses i n y ntritru ca f r e r d y to that circle of our completion India which have wi mainly will success to the very verge of the Chin ese E mpire. Another and a very different service o f t h e Duke's veteran wisdom will readily occur t o most of our a p in r l o y bab cc ; readers. They will, without doubt, remember how, en ' that memorable 10th of April, when England showed the world show 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 by any strange and unlooked-for turn of events, the name less dangers that wait on the triumphs of a mob had threatened London. Few will fail to call to mind now what was generally known then, that, under the super intendence of the Commander-i n -Chi e f, t h e military defence of every quarter and every street in Londo n . was organized wit e th e utmost perfection of detail , such a manner, th at t h e unseen force could, at a mo ment'sja notice, have been brought into irresistible actio We will dwell no more on the particulars 0 . di f l:teon a great ness so fresh in all men's minds, nor will incapable of loss which all will feel who are not in . ;a o p Duke was a under standing the Noble and the Good. "• 12 p y household word among us. He was am ong the honours and possessions of which his coun t ryad w as truly and reached eacefull very his justly proud. It i s true that he h end) , and iciness of time—that we lose him g t under every possible condition twiny a day the familiar the loss—yet we missshall f l T fur chat can console us for The Duke." We shall feel for many a day how much sight and knowledge of of wisdom and goodness are go ne from among us. W e shall wonder for many a day how long it will be before God vouchsafe again to give to any mind and keen—a nation to serve them a so powerful . true —so incapable of the least double heart so loyal and tru _ from strict or the slightest deviation ness of purpose, and absolute integrity. LORD JOHN RUSSELL AND THE BURGH OF STIR.. LING.—The freedom of this ancient burgh is intended to be conferred on Lord John Russell, who is residing nen C4l - on mouby pextl—Edinbur,g4 Courant. 1852 SPORTING NOTES. No. CCCVIII. TO-MORROW'S RACES AT DONCASTER, STOCKWELL'S VICTORY, &c. TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN. SIR,---The St. Leger is over, and the result has justi fied my remarks on it. On the 31st of July I threw out my first hints respecting it. announcing it as my opinion that the race would:lie with Daniel O'Rourke, Songstress, and Stockwell; looking 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, which was not the case—and the de claration of Scott that he was sure of winning the Leger with one or other of his animals, I still withheld from the mare my good opinion of her chance; and, as the stable seemed so certain of victory, I took Daniel O'Rourke as being the best of the twain; which notion was verified by the race of yesterday. My announce ment respecting the jockey of Daniel O'Rourke, at the time opposed by nearly all my contemporaries, was cor rect; for Butler did tool Dan, though not to victory. With respect to Stockwell, I remarked, that he was " one of the most formidable looking horses in the entry. He stands sixteen hands, and is a splendidly built animal in every respect, with a tremendous stride." " I am tolerably well convinced that be 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'Rourke." I should have gone unreservedly for Stockwell had it not been that the Melton stable seemed so very confident of winning. The race of Yesterday was almost as extraordinary as that of Vindex's the day before. Immediately the start was effected, Alfred the Great was off at the best pace he could make, with Harbinger and Stockwell as his immediate attendant s; Daniel and Songstress together followin g , w i th Trousseau bringing up the rear. Little or no ch ange occurred until within fifty yards of the Red House; here Alfred the Great was defeated, and Har binger took first position, followed, by Stockwell and Daniel, Songstress going anything but easy. Almost instantly afterward s a new formation took place, Stock well rushing to th e f ront with Harbinger in hot pursuit; Daniel still in the third position, Trousseau having in the meantime passed Songstress. The rest requires but little description. Stockwell, who was never afterwards caught, won in the easiest style imaginable by nearly a dozen lengths, Harbing er beating Daniel a length for second place; then came T rousseau, then Songstress, and and last of all Alfred th e G reat, b eaten off. T 3 min. 21 sec., with the exception of the deciding beat in Voltigeur's year, was the slowest since the Baron's niers in 1845. Imbriel won the Municipal Stakes so easily:that he was immediately afterwards backed for the Derby at 20 to 1. Cariboo's 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 ei g h t races and a match being set down for decision. The North of England Produce Stakes will be carried to Lord Eglinton'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 with the greatest certainty. The Parkhill Stakes of 50 sovs, each, h ft, one mile six furlongs and 132 yards, will attract to the post Bird on-the-Wing, Caloric, Glenluce, or Hirsuta—perhaps both—Galvanism, Ammonia, and Bay Rosalind. BIRD ON•THE•WING and Mr. Payne's filly will be first and second. A Sweepstakes of 200 sovs. each, St. Leger Course, if Sackbut is not present, will be a walk over for the colt by Ithuriel, out of Gipsy. The Don Stakes, if contested by Hobbie Noble, will have HARBINGER and him first and second. As the weights are nOt out for the Nursery and Town Plates until this evening, it would be absurd for me to attempt to advise thereon. The 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 opine it will be a very close finish between these three and Cariboo, if he runs; and that KINGSTON and TEDDINOTON will occupy the first and second places.—l am, Sir, &C., Sept. 16. THE SPIRIT OF THE TURF. SPORTING INTELLIGENCE. DONCASTER RACES. DONASTER, TUESDAY NIGHT, 12 o'cLecx. 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 ladies in the stewards' stand were Mrs. Lumley and Mrs. Milner, and the gathering of the aristocracy was small beyond precedent. We have nothing to speak of in the shape of alteration or improvement on the course; the offices are still miserably deficient, and the promised accommodation for the press has yet to be provided; we are bound, however, to compliment Mr. De Cheenel, the superintendent of the Electric Telegraph Company, on the success of his arrangements for the transmission of messages from the course. The instruments, by per mission of the corporation, are placed in the ground floor of the round stand—until within a few years used for weighing, &c.—within a few feet of the judge's chair, so that the issue of most of the races this afternoon were known in London, and other distant places, before the winning horse had returned to the enclosure! Two or three clerks were kept in full employ throughout the afternoon. The betting-room has been crowded to excess this evening, but business was never known to be so dull. Songstress, however, was in great and general demand, and the outlay so liberal, that at the close 6 to 4 was the highest offer against her. Very little was said or done about Stockwell, Daniel O'Rourke or Harbinger, but Trousseau was strangely knocked about, rallying, how ever, near the close from 100 to 6 to 10 to 1. WEDNESDAY'S RACES. Hatch; 200, h ft. Red-house in. Lord Clifden's Pelien, 2 yr s, Bst 71b(F. Butler) 1 Lord Glasgow's ch fby Don John, Est 131b(Charlton) 2 Betting-3 to lon Pelion. Pelion won very easily by a length. Run in 1 min. 12 sec. The St. Leger Stakes of . 25 soya. each, for three yrs old; colts, Bst 71b; fillies, Bst 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 (Flatman) 2 Mr. Bowes's Daniel O'Rourke (F. Butler) 3 Mr. Pedley's Trousseau (Templeman) 4 Mr. J. Scott's Songstress (A. Day) 5 Mr. Duncombe's Alfred the Great (Barham) 6 Betting at Starting-7 to 4 egst 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 are made up to the time of starting, varied in several instances from the quotations in the town. At one time, owing to a report that she was lame, Songstress declined to 5 to 2 and 3 to 1, and was quite friendless, S toc kwell, on her decline, risi ng 7 to 2, Daniel O'Rourke to 3 to 1, and Harbinger to 6 to 1. About half an hour before the room was closed a strong reaction took place, Songstress rising to 2 to 1, taken freely, and having a decided call of Lord Exeter's horse; Daniel O'Rourke receded to 7 to 2, but Harbinger place remained steady at 6 to 1. Thepla rt took a few minutes before three, Alfred the Great j umping off with a decided lead, followed in rotatio_n,a in e in da g t wide intervals, by Harbinger and Stockwell, Scott's two next nearly abreast; the pace as good as Alfred the Great could make it. No change whatever took place until near the Red house where Alfred the Great t wr joined by Harbinger and Stockwell , an afterwards gave way. H ar bi nger then showed immediately laeY n front, but was headed in a f ew str i des by Stockwell, wbo went on by himself, and won in a canter by ten leilgtls, Harbinger beating D an i e l O' Rourke by a length. Time, 3 min. 21 sec. The Municipal Stakes of 200 Soya. each, for two yrs old; colts, Bst 71b; fillies, Bst 41b; the to save his stake. Red-house in. ... (F. Butler) Lord Derby's - Umbriel .. second horse .............. ( atruan) 2 Mr. Payne's Warwhoo 3 Mr. W. H. Brooker,' 1ncen5e P.............. (i.e°l Ter Pleinan) ) 4 ......... (JS Lord lasgow's Doublethong ......... zb . s ss s Incense, and Bet G ting-5 to 4 on Urabriel, 5 to ' 3 to 1 agst Doublethong. who Warwhoop made the runniennsfdunhtyil t h h e a favouritehalf - wa stand-railing, when be was jethozne, and won easily by quitted him a:few strides frlorsec. a length. Run in 1 infini.oo guineas; for three yrs old Her Majesty's Pla te ° five, Sst 121 b; six and aged, 9st 7st; four, g s t 51b; 21b. Cup 's Cariboo, Course. 5 yrs Mr. ILE. O liver Mr. Greville ' Sirßowland Trenehard (J. Marson) 2 (Charlton) 3 Mr. C. Marr on e ' cbyT _h 3 eon, yrs Mr. B. Eddison's Wasp , 4 yrs (Simpson) 0 Mr. H. Robinson's Sir Charles , 5 yrs (Bumby) 0 Mr. Morris's Recommendation, 3 yrs ( Barham) 0 Captain Scott's onoAller, 3 yrs C Betting-5 to 2 Cariboo. The race was scarcely in doubt, Cariboo waiting on Sir Charles and Sir ever Rowland Trenchard the first three-quarters of a mile, making the rest of the running, and winning in a canter by six lengths. Run in 4 min. 54 sec. The Doncaster Plate of 10 soya. each, hft (bandicep), with 70 added, for three yrs old and upwards; the second to save his stake. Red-house in. Mr. E. Phillips's Truth, 4 yrs, Sat 81b (Templeman) 1 Mr. Armstrong's Sabra, 3 yrs, sst 21b ...(Kendall) 2 Mr. Worthington's Rachetes, sst 81b ...(Carroll) 3 Mr. J. M. Stanley's Clincher, 5 yrs, Bst 81b (A. Day) t Mr. Jones's Prime Minister, Bst 81b ...(W. - Pe) Lord J. Scott's Turnus, 6 yrs, Bst 71h ( VVhiteh o Lord Derby's Croupier, 4 yrs, Bst 41b jsr) ...(Flatman) 0 Lord Eglinton's Claverhouse, 3 yrs, 6st 121 b (Wells) 0 Mr. G. 03borne's Lady Agnes, 7at......(J . Osborne) 0 Lord Chesterfield's Senorita, 3 yrs, 6st 41b (A,hmall) 0 Mr. Shepherdson's fby Ithuriel, sst 21b (Bates) 0 Mr. Marson's Rebecca colt, sst 21b (F. Marsog, jun.) 0 Betting-2 to 1 agst Truth, 4to 1 agst Senorita, 100 to 15 agst Prime Minister, 100 to 15 agst Ithuriel filly, and 8 to 1 agst Turnus. Won by a length; two lengths between second and third. Run in 1 min. 7 see, _ _ Sweepstakes of 10 sous. each, h ft, and 50 added for two yrs old, 7st; three, 9st; fillies and geldings al lowed 31b. The second saves his stake. Red House in. (14 Subs.) Mr. Merry's b c Lambton, 2 yrs (J. Osborne) 1 Mr. *. 1 14140 ' 0 bf by Melbourne, 2 .... (WOW 2 Mr. Wilkin's Peggy, 2 yrs Mr. Knapton's St Andrew (T. Sherwood) 0 Mr. Jaques's Auchinleck, 2 yrs (Wells) 0 Lord Clifdun's Molasses, 2 yrs (G. Mann) 0 Mr. E. R. Clark's Little Switt, 2 yrs (Charlton) 0 Mr. Chilton's Audubon, 2 yrs (Carroll) 0 Betting -7 to 4on Lambton, and sto 1 each asst Little Swift and Audubon. Won in a canter by two lengths. We have only time to add that notwithstanding: the wretched state of the weather—the rain never having ceased since one o'clock —the concourse on the course was immense, being wofully deficient, however, in fashion. THE EGLINTON STAKES. Vindex is declared to carry 61b overweight, in addi. tion to the penalty; h. will be ridden by Flatruan. LATEST BETTING. (BY ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH.) DONCASTER CUP. 7to 4 agst Kingston (t) I sto 1 agst Stilton 7 to 4 agst Teddington (r) CESAREWITCH. 11 to 1 agst Lady Evelyn 25 to 1 agst Lindrick (t) 12 to 1 agst Le Juif 30 to 1 agat Mrs. Birch 25 to 1 agst Waterfall (1) 30 to 1 agat Kt.of Shire(t) CAMBRIDGESHIRE. 25 to 1 agat Ephesus I 25 to 1 apt Hyacinth 25 to 1 agst Koh-t•Noor I3oto 1 agst Trousseau COURT CIRCULAR. BALMORAL, SEPT. 14. Her Majesty drove yesterday afternoon, accom panied by Vhe Princess Royal, Princess Alice, and Princess Helena, to Invercauld-house, and remained there during the afternoon. The Countess of Desert was in attendance on her Majesty. 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 Bent to the tenantry and servants on the estate. The Countess of Desert, the Hon. Mary Seymour, and Lieut.-C o l one l Hon. A. Gordon were in attend ance in waiting. Archdeacon Tattam has arrived at Balmoral, and had the honour of dining wit • h her Majesty yesterday. DEATH OF MISS LAU A ADDISON. (From the New York Herald of the 4th inst.) Miss Laura Addison, an English actress, who ar rived a few months since in this count r y, died sud denly on the morning of the 2d inst., on board the steamboat Oregon, on her passage from Albany to this city. The deceased bad been to Niagra Falls for the benefit of her health, accompanied by Mr. James Mason, in whose family she had been residing for some time past. On the arrival of the boat the 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 i nquest. M i ss Addi son performed on e en gagement at the Broadway Theatre in this city, and one in Boston or Philadelphia. Owing to the state of her health, she was then obliged to leave the stage. Yesterday, at the request of the sister of the de examination on pthoestbo7tadhoyert ceased, a surgeon was called to hold a post mortem minds of the relatives respecting the real cause of death. Accordingly a ecin s or suspicions rested in the Dr. Lidell, the cor on e r, accompanied by yester day morning to No. 230, v e l : n e t ' . n Sul li v an-street, eterne went t a view of making the necessary wwh ei tnh, to their surprise, they ascertained tha l t ga th l e on' bod of Mason and Miss Addison had been removed from the house y the previous afternoon, by Mr. others, who caused the same to be buried in the Second A venue ' burying-ground. The following statement has been made to the co roner by the relatives :—Mrs. Howard, the sister of deceased, a married lady, residing at No. 230, Ludlo westreet, it seems received, on Wednesday, a telegraphic dispatch from Albany, informing her that Miss Addison had, that day, at about one o'clock, expired, and for her to meet the 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 have been made on the part of those who accompanied the deceased, the relatives deemed it advisable to have a post mortem examination made of the body, to ascertain, if passible, the true cause of death. The sister thereupon called on Dr. Fleet, her family physician, and wished him to meke the examination. The doctor declined doing so, and advised her to apply to the coroner of the county for that purpose, if she entertained any suspi cion that the deceased had come to her death by any foul means ; hence the application was made to co roner Ives. The sister of deceased further says, that on Thursday afternoon several gentlemen came to the house and insisted upon the burial of the body ; among them Mr. Ring, a lawyer, who told her that if she allowed a post mortem examination to be made in her house she would be subjected to a fine of 1,000 dollars. The sister remonstrated with the gentlemen for their hasty manner of disposing of the body, and she informed them that the coroner had been notified to hold an inquest. Several of the gentlemen then spoke up and said that if she refused to give her con sent, they would remove the body away by force. Mrs. Howard finding ultimately it was useless to pro test against the removal of the body, consented to their wishes ; but she followed the body and saw it deposited in a vault in the Second Avenue burying ground. The Coroner, on the facts as above stated, ordered a police officer to guard the vault, and not allow any body to be removed unless by , his permission. The body of deceased will be exhumed, and the proper legal investigation made by Dr. Lidell. We are in formed that Mr. Mason, Counsellor Ring, and 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 ; after 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 sick, and at times became almost a raving maniac ; but on Monday last she rallied somewhat, to andrn p roceed e i it was on to dee medNew advisable York, as by the phy sicianssoonboas pos sible, m her ultimate recovery was consider:: the moat On Monday Mr. and Mrs. Mason he pr c o a c r u s r , and arrived comfortable accommodations in Albany on Tuesday S everal of the first - b t he proprietors re claes hotels were applied to, in the house, as it was fused to admit the dec.eoaiseers, m orn to in o k n u t t arriving as they did that feared she had the c ho l e ra, Mr. Mason ascertaining it morning from o b r l . e tobewk, roiuotbhtain a dmittance in a hotel, they to the steam-boat Oregon, then advertised to leave that evening at New York. The captain of the boat 7 o'clock for • lyingpw r a o s ce im e a d t p e o d tb ss e f i d very h and gentlemanly received the deceased P rovided the best of attention for the com f o rt o f o n the unfortunate su ff erer ; there were also board,u andoel l eminent physicians, who admi d all in their power towards her recovery n istere t to DO effect, as death ensued about one o'clock alas • i n attendance severe that afternoon. The body was then conveyed to this city,and as decomposition of the body had already far a d v anced, it was deemed advisable by Mr. Ri ng and Mr. Mason that the body should be placed in a, receiving vault. Accordingly the funeral w as an nounced, the Rev. Mr. Anthon performed the sacred rites on the occasion, and the body was deposited in the private vault owned by Mr. Ring in the Second 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 had 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, according to the opinion of the best medical evidence, the fever bad completely destroyed her reason, and sbe sank under its fatal effects. Mr. Ring further adds that no objection was ever made to a post mortetn exami nation of the body at a proper season, but not to delay the obsequies on the day of the funeral. Every facility will be given by the friends of t h e deceased and the pu blic mind, that the death w as one of na t ura l causes. The certificates of several of the physicians deceased Ring towards satisfying eceased will be pr ocure d , and exhibited to the coroner this day, wbo attended the NEW HARNESS YOE HER MAJESTY'S CARRIAGE.. lionsEs.--We yesterday bad the pleasure of inspecting a set of harness for the carriage horses of her Majesty, j us t finished b Mr Kav Dinsdale, of 314, Oxford•street. It is 7 • - executed in an entirely- new ornamental style, remarkable for the c hasteness and elegance of its effect. The distinguish ing novelty of the de coration is the quill embroider y , which has p t e s v jet.bbeafcokre bbaseeisn purpose,e o m f pl p o a y t e e d nt for le t a h th is er,hasa and which, on singularly beautiful appearance. In this case the material is cheap enougb, but the cost of working it in must be very groat, from the amount of labour involved. The pattern, which is a rich a rabesque of flowers and foliage, is first drawn or stamped on the leather, which has then to be carefully pierced by hand with innumerable little slits or holes, through which the strips of quill are drawn, and secured on the re verse side. '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. W e cannot doubt that a style of execu tion so complete and appropriate will ensure it extensive patronage. TELEGRAPHWG 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 1491400. I I