The Sun. — London, England, 1863-09-04 00:00:00

THE CIVIL WAR IN AMERICA, (From the Special Correspondent of the Times.) SARATOGA, NEW YORK, Aug. 21. "Well, sir, do you see any traces of the war here ?" Such is the question with which I am greeted after the very first words I exchange with strangers or acquaintances. No ; cer tainly I have left all warlike pomp and circ umstance behivd me. Albany was already free from the untidy and some what truculent aspect of the Union soldiers, and bore all the appearance of a well-behaved, contented respectable American city of the good old times. Saratoga Springs is at this season a community of happy idlers, and suffers not the odour of the battle field to come between the wind and its nobility. Saratoga is full and labours to be gay. It is fuller than it has been at any season for a long course of years, as mine host of the United States Hotel as sures me—mine host, an intelligent and obliging landlord, who has lately been returned as a member of Congress, and who I have no doubt, will fill his place greatly to his own credit and to that of his craft, seeing that in America the management of a great hotel is looked upon as a task fully as ar duous as the government of a republic,—that, in very fact, a hotel is a republic, a polychrome re public, with sever a l h un d re d officials of every variety of complexion, and that worthy Mr. Marrin has conducted the United States Hotel to the satis faction of a choice company and to the construction of his own private fortune. Who more fit to be a public man than a publican ? Saratoga is fuller and, I am told, gayer than usual. A perfect stranger as I am to the spot, I can, however, answer to the fact of its being as full as it can possibly be. The visitors jostle one another as they lounge under the wide, spacious colonnades ; they sit at dinner round tables which, if laid out on a single line, would stretch beyond one mile in length. Nor is this hotel, although the best, the most crowded house in the town. Congress hall, the Union, the Clarendon, and many others are all turning the late arrivals from their doors, and the private houses, which are made at a pinch to do duty as succursales to the main caravanserais, are thronged from the tellers to the garrets. Eight divers at the Spring are straining every nerve to fill the goblets which are held out to them by thou sands of eager hands early in the morning for a draught at the health-giving Congress water, and five-and -twenty fiddlers in the evening are racking the air for the benefit of frequenters of dress and undress balls, kicking up the dust of every hotel saloon in time or out of time. "The Alpha and the Omega of the daily Saratoga programme," says Appleton's Handbook., " is to drink and to dance— the one in the earliest possible morning, and the other at the latest possible night." Harmless pas times, no doubt ; and it is greatly to the credit of the Americans that if they have chosen a Baden- Baden without the hills, the woods, and the castles of the Black Forest, they at least manage to kill their time without boisterous champagne picnics, and without the exciting chances of the roulette. Drunkenness and gambling are kept altogether out of sight. Fall, I repeat, Saratoga undoubtedly is; gayer than in former seasons it must be allowed to be on the strength, I suppose, of " the more the merrier" principle. Whether this comparative loveliness con stitutes positive enjoyment lam the least compe tent judge in the world to decide, as cue day at a watering-place is sufficient to crush, and one week would kill me. That these people pacing the piazzae and corridors from morning to night ate amusing themselves I ought to have no reason to doubt, as they assemble here from the four quarters of the globe with that avowed purpose. Some of them do not look jolly; indeed, rather dull and list less, I should say. They would pass for a party of patients or prisoners out for a holyday in the open air of a hospital or penitentiary; reclining in their arm chairs, with their feet in the air, silent and contemplative, poring over the New York papers of the eve, staring at the passers-by, in the hopeless task of making out an acquaintance; or, if grouped in small knots, exchanging words with a languid effort, cackling at a stale joke, yawning, yawning. A long August day at a watering-place takes a great deal of killing. The ladies, indeed, are very industrious about their morning, noon, and evening toilets. Flirting would be business to I hem, indeed, and so would dancing ; but the best partners and admirers are away at the war; and the "last beaux of the village" are hardly worth the strife by which they may be secured. If gay dresses could make a gay season, however, no doubt the fair dwellers at Saratoga would turn this summer into a Carnival. Something bewitching there is, too, about this American sex. The complexion, if not always rich, is clear, and the hair is glossy and profuse. Thin arms and sharpish shoulders are to be met now and then on a close inspection, in spite of the prodigious amount of broiled chickens, mashed potatoes, corn, and squash consumed by these active charmers at their three or four hotel meals. Plump ness, high blood, roundness of form, not even all the virtues of the world-renowned Congress water can impart where nature has denied; but the dresses are full and flowing, and the hair falls down like a stream of gold from the highly jeweled eombs. The figures, though thin, are often elegant, and the girls in their teens have rows of pearls of dazzling whiteness, the consciousness of which keeps their giggling faculties on a perpetual stretch. These darling creatures live here in a sort of family sister hood. They are seen flitting and glancing not only about the hotel piazzas, but in the streets, unem cumbered with wrappers or head gear, without mother or chaperon, tripping about in small bevies from shop to shop, safe in the consciousness of their sexal superiority and in the chivalrous reverence and good behaviour of the men. As to these latter, they spend their time in a round of what I should call unrelieved dullness. The best class of Americans are here, and a traveller has some respite from the rudeness and offensive ness which makes him loathe the very names of steamboats and railway cars. But the American, to his praise be it spoken, is made for business. It is hard work for him to take his ease at his Spa, _even for a few days of inevitable repose. Th e men l ook worn and dispirited; many of them, doubtless, out of health, have come to this place to recruit it. But, on the whole , at no time of the year, in no I P ar t of the St a t es , do you see anything like very robust and blooming health in this American con tinent. The complexion, which is only pale in the women, i s generally dingy and sallow in the men. An emi nent my impression s about to whom I communicated about the unwashed look of the Northern soldiery, " clean eno ug h f or the me that the men were of the Anglo•Se Americans." It is the pecu liarityaxon blood, as affected by this climate," he said, a t r sumo a dirty, earthy look. Under the slightest exertion , " tion," of innate biliousness com e he added, "the taint to , the surface. This is the climate which blen ded the copper hues of our wild Indian, and 'its tendenc y . no less to deepen the milk and rose of the white i ntot an ashy and leaden mixture than to blanch h negro into a faded and sickly w aln ut br own. Our extremes of heat and cold are eq ua l ly unfriendly to the genuine colour of primitive races . " "Grattez le Russe et vous trouvez le Tartars" is a saying which I have h eard a di p lom atist appl y to this country, saying, a s cr atch the Ya n k ee and you will find the Red Indian." The tendency of t h e American face, after several generations, is, in the opinion of this distinguished foreigner, " to assum e the elongated shale, the high cheek bones, the deep-. set eyes of the savage who originally lorded it over this continent. The cold-blooded courage, the wiry muscular strength, the impissive look, the un wearied power of endurance, are also Indian attributes ; nor is there wanting that truculent resolve, that un sparing vindictiveness, that contempt for human life which forbids the Indian to come to terms with an enemy, and which makes the ex t erm ination of an adversary a matter of cold, calc u l a ti ng p o licy." am amused, as I look about me, tutored by so shrewd an observer, by gazing into the countenance of every man I meet, and indulging those PhY siog. y nomical speculation s to which every man is more or less consciously addicted from earliest childhood. There is certainly something striking about the pre • veiling American type. That le ng , lank,fleshless form, I that straight hair, that stoop in the shoulders, that colourless face, those by no means bad yet somewhat harsh features, that high but fiat brow, those pale, thin, compressed lips, that sad yet shrewd and coldly humorous expression, remind you at every step of that complex yet distinct original which the great Nova: Scotian stereotyped in Sam Slick. To give the genuine Yankee a family air throughout the Union the costume at prevent in vogue contributes in no small degree. The fashion has lately sprung up, and it struck me on my arrival as an innovation at variance with all my reminiscences of American look. The true Yankee shaves his upper lip, and sometimes the edge of the nether one, allowing the beard to grow stiff and straight on the chin. It is the cut of beard that anyone may observe in the portraits of President Lincoln, and I should not wonder if it is the First Magistrate who sets the fashions in this republican land, as King Charles I. or Henry IV. did in their respec tive Kingdoms, exercising the same spell as the Empress Eugenie had on the skirts of ladies' gowns and on the frizzled front of ladies' coiffures in France. Nay, I shrewdly surm;se that the peaked beard, a la Lincoln, is something like a political badge and cognisance in this country ; your true Republican, your out-and-out Abolitionist is as sure to strike you by his pantaloon tuft on his chin as the old Puritan made himself known by his closely cropped head and thick, bushy moustaches. With out any pretension to enter into a dispute about matters of taste, I may be permitted to say that the present fashion is, to say the least, an oddone the least becoming the American face that ever have been invented. The dens e mass of and could that encumbers the lower face, generally black or very dark, enhances with no pleasing hy e n ff o ec hi t ea th n e s length of the bare upper lip—a feature the most pleasing in the American th co e n u e n a t r en e a r n s c o e f ,a t s h i e t is apt to be heavy, and fiat, with mouth drawn deeply down towards the chin ; sees at a distance, that capuchin-like beard, contrasting with the blue and white shaven skin, looks like an unreal appendage, a masquerading disguise; and it wears rather absurdly with the high shirt-collar, the long close-buttoned surtout, and the broad brimmed hat, which very generally make up with it the strictly republican garb. These peculiarities of dress strike the stranger as more familiar in New York, Washington, and other cities, where the middle classes constitute the greatest number. Here, in this select circle, true Yankeedom has indeed, its few representatives, but the men of the upper classes, if aged, affect the thoroughly round hairless face of the fine old English gentleman ; if young, they sport the thin moustache and imperial of the Parisian dandy. But it is full time I should vouchsafe an answer to the question propounded at the beginning of this letter—" Do I see any traces of war in this place ?" Truly, the din of clashing swords reaches us not here, nor are there any symptoms of distress to be seen in the brilliant equipages, sleek cattle, and sumptuous dresses that dazzle the eye all around. Saratoga, like N ew p or t, i s on l y a su b ur b o f N ew York; it is only a second edition of Fifth Avenue, with the additional vanities and frivolities of a watering place. To the Atlantic cities it is well known the war has been a golden harvest. Its glit ter is nowhere more bewildering than here, where the e/i'e of each town come for a brief season of emulous extravagance. My friends, however, would fain persuade me that the welfare which I see about me is as solid as it is widespread, no less real than it is apparent; that, in short, all is gold that glitters. " The Union is safe," they say, " and confusion is sure to seize those croakers, be they foreign or domestic, who entertained or expressed any doubt as to its durability. The Nor ;hero armies are everywhere victorious ; the South is exhausted, discordant, despondent ; worn out by famine and high prices, disheartened by the downfall of all its illnsiona about foreign aid and alliances. The con scription, however false and improvident a measure, was a necessary one, and will work good, owing to the loyalty, docility, and long endurance of the people. Taxes are paid cheerfully, eagerly (as I may bear witness myself from personal observation, as far at least as the Eastern cities are concerned), free labour comes in like a fertilising tide, from Europe ; the gaps made by enlistment and draughts are filled up by new arrivals, agriculture and industry ere kept up to the utmost strach of activity. '[he inexhaustible resources of the country allow produc. tion to keep pace with consumption ; the armament of a million and a quarter of men, the equipment of land and sea forces, weigh no more on the strength of America than a child on - a giant's arms. The people here have faith in the destinies of the coun try; they value its paper currency as if it were gold; nay, they would never again give it up for very gold. They have no horror of a national debt —nay, they look upon it as the greatest of blessings —inasmuch as it affords them the means of safe in vestments, and rids them of the necessity they hitherto laboured under of venturing their money on every variety of private bubbles. Gold has been falling in price for the last month or two; it will be at par before we are many months older; it will be held of no greater value than mere dross. The people will identify their destinies with those of the State ; they will put up with the issue of greenbacks to any amount. Nay, was there not an instance of a man at Buffalo who refused to give up a forged 10 dol, note the other day, as the faith he had in the Government was so great that he thought it would honour all the paper issued in its name, whether it was spurious or genuine ? " This civil war, which threatened to be the ruin of the country, has turned out the greatest of blessings, inasmuch as it has not only brought all the energies of the country into activity, and put the nation on its metal, but it has can p ae l affect, a tu ce a d lly th b e public credit on a b as i s w hi c h no panic be a sustainedan y loss hy arising the fromwho l e hole it mass must of and the p w e i o ll . ple." " Suppose," they say by way of explanation of their theory, "suppose the possibility of a rush on the national Treasury. The panic as to the solidity of one's own country cannot rise as suddenly as that which might affect a private enterprise. The man who happened to have his bands full of Government Stock might, on a first suspicion of brewing mis chief, find it expedient to rid himself of it, at the loss say of 5 per cent. The man who pur chased of him might also in turn be driven to sell it at a farther sacrifice, bat this second sale, were it even at a sacrifice of 10 per cent., would inflict upon him only the loss of 5, and so on ; even were the stock to fall down to 10 or 5, it would be found in the bands of people who would have pu r . chased it at gradually reduced prices, and on whom the final loss would fall as lightly as it had done on the previous holders." These theories are not mine ; nay, they come so strange and novel upon me that I am sure I must most imperfectly have expounded them; the drift, however, of all reasoning here is merely to prove that war has hitherto wrought—that it is sure to work —nothing but good to the country,taneduthoaioto on a its up. shot will be the reconstru ction of the more compact, satisfactory, and unshaken a basis than it was before. This conviction seems, to tell the plaintruth, have struck very deep roots into the minds and to hearts of 99 out of every 100 individuals I happen to meet here. There may be a vast amount of self delusion in all I hear ; there may be a great deal of affectation and humbug, but such is the strain in which people delight to talk here, not only the men who declare themselves friendly to the Government , but even those Democrats who think, or pretend to think, that the conduct of Mr. Lincoln and his Cabi netder isaianrcee the opening of the war has been only one tissu e of the biggest blunders. " Many of those blun moderatierreparable," they think, " Many will only find from the bra i n-cracked a remedy at the next general election, when and Conservative men shall take the power Bat the safeil3ireerracked fanatics who now wield it, or influence ofetsholutions of those who wield it. y. It rests country lies not in any set of men or part ableness to the law, itt their n ei the people, on its amen ableness t s h o e u sound, t a lr u o t itl:, and almost superstitious love [AuvERTisEmENT.I---R o n e ------ w ------- hoevri9ver obstinate or Indisputable remedies for old giNvven a o % d O tai l i n el t r m e zt an an d d ul P c i e l r l s s : — if curativ h —tem. There is no patients in who lisa.:ef. and e of eminent Pills.-- us according to directions wound, ulcerous übu au s tb o ew r reis,l will yield i pe b led a r d stoo b n r st e h a e s i t r , p lo r n o g pe s r t t a ie n si d . ing x . been . e several of the large hospitals. and under the ear surgeons, without deriving the slightest benefit, have been thoroughly cured by Holloway's Oointment and Pills. F 0 all glandular swellings,. tumours, scurvy, a n d di seases of the skin, there is no medicine that can be used with so good an effect. In fact, in the worst forms of disease dependent upon the condition of the blood, these medicines are irresieale. THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION. NEWCASTLE, Thursday. Although there remain the three interesting excursions to Cleveland, Allenheads, and Marsden Rock to be made to-day, the business proper of the Association terminated with the decree of adjournment to next September, which was formally pronounced by Sir William Armstrong at the general meeting of the Association which took place yesterday. The Mathematical Section was wholly occupied yesterday in examining the models of some recent inventions. Three barometers of peculiar construction were shown by Abbe Moigno. The same gentleman exhibited some microscopic crystals, cut by M. Dagron, in the manner proposed by Sir David Brewster, together with specimens of telegraphic facsimiles, produced by Casselli's method. Another of the inventions shown was Professor Thompson's new electro. meter—an instrument which, if it at all answers expecta tion, will be of great scientific value in any future balloon ascent. in the Chemical Section Dr. T. Wood read a paper " On Oxidation by Ozone," showing that ozonised air was capa ble of supporting combustion more powerfully than common air. Dr. M. Thomson submitted some remarks on " New Zealand Lignites," and Dr. Richter z ead a lengthened paper "On the Chemical and Physical Principles in connexion with the Specific Gravity of Liquid and Solid Substances." The Secretary, Mr. Stevenson, read a report on "Re searches on the Formation of Minerals. A model of a new form of gas battery was exhibited by Mr. W. Symons ; and Musical also soun read Sounds another pro duce p d ap b e y r a paper by Dr. F. L. Phipson, w as rea d b y th e S ecretary, "On a New Methol of measu r i ng th e Ch em i cal Action of the Sun's the Sun sameau ays. thor, , T h e, on Secretary Carbon." A paper was given in, being the joint production of Dr. Richardson and Mr. T. W. Bunning, on the " Uses of Fuel in Marine Boilers." Dr. Richardson and Mr. Bunning had been appointed to be present at certain experiments made with Hartley and Welsh coal; and, to represent the dif ferent intensities of the smoke, it was found that while the Hartley made 340 marks and the Welsh 40, an equal mix ture of the Hartley and the Welsh made only 1. Since these experiments, Mr. Bunning has received a letter from the chief engineer of the Prince Napoleon yacht, belonging to Prince Jerome, in which that gentleman states, that for ordinary running they used a mixture of one Hartley and two of Welsh coal; if they wished to go at a greater speed they used half Hartley and half Welsh; and when they wanted to go at their greatest speed they used Hartley entirely. In the Geological Section, the first paper read was, "On the Discovery of Rock Salt, at Middlesbro', in Cleveland," by Mr. John Marley. Some other papers of interest were read. In the Ethnological Section, papers were read by Mr. Greenfield, on the "Extinction of Races;" and by Mr. Crawfurd, on the " Commixture of Races," and the "Origin of Gypsies." SUN, LONDON, FRIDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 4, 1863, selves deep in the planking. Some shells went through the second target whole, and exploding by the percussion, scattered their fragments far and wide, and deeply indent ing the surface of the third target. There was not on the surface of the three targets, each about twenty feet long by six feet high, a apace o' six inches square that was free either from splintered holes, or pieces of the shell sticking into it. The casualties that would have occurred to a body of troops indulging in the fancied security afforded by a slight indentation of the ground, or any similar cover, would have been terrffi2,. Enough having been seen by those who took the trotble to inform themselves on the subject of the efficacy of the Armstrong shell, the party returned to Newcastle. The Crystal Palace and its Flower Beds, AS DESCRIBED BY THE REV. HENRY WARD BEECHER IN A LETTER COMMUNICATED TO THE " NEW YORK INDE PENDENT." I have just returned from spending a day at Sydenham Crystal Palace. The day was glorious. Everybody had said, "You must go to Sydenham I" I had read descrip tions of it. Yet, the meaning of it never dawned upon me till to-day—this most wonderful of all modern English achievements. Even alter having been at Chatsworth, one of the Duke of Devonshire's seats, reputed, hitherto, to be the finest in the world for landscape -gardening, Sydenham is still more wonderful. This vast Crystal Palace, vast but not massive, springs into such huge proportions, with , such a fine and almost ethereal structure, that you can scarcely believe it to be more than a picture; or, if a veri table building. one which the winds will blow away. It is the very antithesis of castles and cathedrals. These impress you with their solidity. They are mountains of stone, and seem to be durable, as the mountains from which the stone was hewn. Against their huge walls has dashed battle and siege, almost in vain. Time itself, that never raises its siege, seems in vain, with wind, and art, and frost, to have assailed many mighty media3val structures. And when you look upon them you feel the solidity, the mighty massiveness. But this film upon the sky—the gossamer spun last night by fairies, this glimmering, luminous, tran sparent spectre of a palace I Can it be real, durable, tangible ? The grounds on which this ethereal pile is erected are worthy of the vast jewel which they hold upon their bosom. There is every variation of hue and slope. The grass is shaven close and is as green and velvety as only English grass can be. Cut into its green are innumerable beds of gorgeous flowers of every . hue. You are dazed and dazzled at the wealth of flowers, the clamps of rhododendrons, the belts, beds and ribbons of colour, the circles of roses. I have travelled in the prairies of the Great West, and seen the sheets and billows of flowers that stretch with endless pro fusion there. There is no such wild and extravagant abun dance here. It was as if the flower angel had sounded the trumpet, and a prairie of flowers had rushed to camp to be brigaded and marshalled ; and now, in ranks and squadrons, in files or companies, they carry their floral lances to this innocuous worof beauty! Lakes, fountains and pools abound. The most gorgeous dream of the Arabian Nights would turn pale and fade out in the presence of the substantial glory of horticultural skill. If I had had time, I should have been amazed at the literature of colour spread out here. These flowers I had seen, all of them, growing loose and disconnectedly. Here they were gathered into artistic groups by similarities or contrasts. I had seen them a scattering alphabet of beauty, every letter by itself. Here they were composed into words and sentences. My eye drank and was drunk with colour. I turned from the grounds to the building, and from it again to the grounds. 0 happy people, who can come hither so easily 1 For the immortal glory of this enterprise is this : that this palace and grounds, that have no parallel or equal in the world, are presented by the wealth of London to the common people I Ido not believe that so extraordinary a combi nation of rational pleasure for every sense and sentiment of a man was ever before combined. Not for the Government, not for kings or nobles, not for a rich and refined class, but for the great common people, has this miracle of beauty and use been wrought 1 ,nsy i n admnssd i aeu s rdmeveh e ep : di otl e ,dur r y o:s i huinmse. B varietyut nowof c foodcomes e for s th em bodily ar v e l h . u n y g e o r u , forpi n l ec thosedfoenr t a t h lw o h s eo wants choose s n e eietd. throngso rEcvaeonrf Every mp er afford on: Egypt and walk in the temples. You stand in wllvcGiiaivtorsptWeemilioeetink:naitnalhilHalls. You see the altars and statues, the Parthe non, the friezes, the gods. You enter a Roman dwelling. All is re-produced as in the days of Augustus. You stand in the gorgeous Alhambra, in the Pompeiian house, in the Byzantine court, in the Norman, the early English, the full Gothic buildings or courts. The illusion is complete. Time is dead. The old has come back, and is new. Nay, distance is ended. You seem to be in different ages and widely different countries, all at the same time. You lose your identity, whether you are ancient or modern—whether you are at Athens, or Rome, or Byzantium, you cannot tell. Or is it a gorgeous dream ? Is this some sorcerer's kaleidoscope, whose every turn rattles the elements of various ages and countries into strange conjunctions? The illusion is increased by the unity of all climates in ' the vegetable kingdom. Under this glass hemisphere the temperate and torrid zones dwell together in peace. There is room for everything. As you stand at one end, you look down through a crystal aisle more than 1600 feet, and over this long, luminous path there is no roof until you rise a 174 feet in the centre, and 110 on either side of it. Along this vast track are gathered the rarest vegetable productions of the globe, growing in soil, air, or water. Vines cover the iron columns, and spread out their filmy branches along the connecting rods. Huge pendant baskets, filled with trailing plants, swing in the air at heights that hide their support, and cause them to be supported. Marble-lined reservoirs of water, artificially heated, are covered with aquatic lilies, From step to step, all the way down, you come upon the most magnificently grown shrubs and plants and trees. They line the whole long interior, so that you imagine your. self looking down an avenue of some extraordinary forest, filled with undergrowth, shrubs, vines, and mosses. Out of these green mosses. at every step, peep the most exquisite creations of art. There are casts of almost every re nowned or beautiful statue in Europe, arranged in long sequence. All the sculpture that you have ever seen in eng rav i ngs, read of in books, heard of in conversation, meets you in this palace of miracles. The treasures are endless. You cannot in a day even glance at them. You leave more things un seen than you look upon. Every step opens recesses full of wonders. Picture galleries flow along the sides as if they would never end. The portrait gall ery presents you with almost every historic face. Do yo u nee d to read of these things? Turn aside into the library, with thousands of volumes. Sit down in the reading room, which, though several thousand people are threading the building, is as quiet as if it were a lonesome bower in the woods I Or, axe you tired in eye or foot ? Sit down and listen to a very noble band that yonder is rendering cla ss i c mus i c sk i lfully. This marvellous variety gives you re s t b y c h ange. If sculpture fails, there is architecture, and of that variety running through all the schools of time. Are you weary of this ? Try colour ou the canvas. Do you weary of this ? Will you take a walk around marble-bound lakes, or among palms and gigantic ferns, or among c l ove an d cinn a mon, pepper and ginger, tea and coffee plants? Or would you rid yourself of company ? Go out into the grounds. By some one of the walks you can in a moment be bidden in the secluded leafy covers, or you may seek the lake and artificial island, and see the geological periods represented in strata, and the antediluvian animals reproduced in form if not in life. From such a stroll I returned and dined. I could not make up my mind whether I was an Egyptian dining at Cairo with the old Copts, or a Greek, or a Roman, or Goth. I never once suspected I was a Yankee, eating stout English beef and pastry. This duty done, we go now to the Renaissance Court to see the statues by Michael Angelo I Here are day aad night, with Julius de Medici sitting nobly above and be tween them. Opposite are Dawn and Twilight, with Lorenzo de Medici sublimely thoughtful between them. There is the slave; opposite to it the Madonna and child, a Piata, a Christ, but most grand of all, the Moses I These are of the full size of the originals, and fill you with more pleasure and wonder since they are gathered into one grand company, and fill the whole air with the spirit of their artist-creator. While thus walking and musing, the grand organ in the nave is filling all the air with its solemn harmonies! Where else did any one ever gaze upon Michael Angelo's collected sculptures to the sound of grand organ music ? We never know to what proportions our joys may rise until we have experienced them in the midst of solemn music. At such a distance that all sense of the material instrument is lost, solemn music seems to have a voice out of the spirit world. It brings to us a call from the infinite, and connects us with it. Our joys seem no more mortal. They are related to the eternal and spiritual, and partake of their nature. They are preludes and presciences of immortality. The soul takes assurance that its most precious experiences are not transient and perishing. However silent for a t me, joy shall come again, and in the harmony of a better sphere, and roll for ever in undisturbed and inseparable harmonies I [ADVERTISEMENTI—ConSumption, all nervous, bilious liver, and stomach complaints, in every stage, are only ag gravate.; and accelerated by drugs of every description, but perfectly curable by Du Barry's health restoring Revalenta Arabica Food, as proved by thousands of cases which had been considered hopeless. We quote a few.—Cure No. 62,914. Miss Lange, 18 years of age, cured after the medical men had abandoned all hopes of her recovery from the last stage of pulmonary consumption, with fearful cough, expectoration, exhaustion, spitting of blood, perspirations, hollow cheeks. emaciated to a skeleton. She is now, thank God, a perfectly healthy, blooming, fleshy girl.—N. Lange, Commissaire de Police. Cure, No. 48,270. Mr. James Roberts, of Frimley Surrey, of thirty years' diseased lungs, spitting of blood, liver derangement, and partial deafness.—Cure, No. 47,121. Miss Elizabeth Jacobs, of extreme nervousness, indigestion, gatherings, low spirits, and nervous ancies.—Cure, No. 54,816. The Rev. James T. Campbell, Fakenham, Norfolk, of indigestion and torpidity of the liver, which had resisted all medical treatment. In tins, llb, 2s 9d; 21b, 4s 6d; 51b Ils ; 121 b, 225; 241 b, 408. Barry du Barry and Co., No. 77, Regent-street, London ; also Fortnum and Mason; and all grocers and chemists in every town of the United Kingdom. SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC .JOURNALS. TIMES.—Mr. Seward's Diplomatic Circular, which we published yesterday, consists of a pro position, an argument, and an application. His proposition is that the statesmen of England and France, having conceived at the beginning of the American war a belief that the restoration of the Union was an impossibility, persist in that belief to the present hour. His argument resolves itself into a long: narrative of the campaigns of the last twelve months, and this historical compen dium is then applied to the purpose of correcting the prevailing belief, and impressing the two Western Powers with convictions more favourable to the Federal cause. In its object this State Paper is certainly intelligible. Mr. Seward is perfectly accurate in his presumption that the statesmen of France and England—he might have included, indeed, those of the rest of Europe—do consider to this very day that the old American Union can never be reconstructed. It is natural, too, that he should be desirous of removing this conviction, but the argument which he employs for this purpose is both ineffective and needless—need less because we all knew beforehand every particle of his story, and ineffective because, even if we ac cept it exactly as it is presented to us, it leaves our conclusions just what they were. The truth is, the course of the American War has taken us by sur prise. When we first arrived at the conclusion that the South could never be coerced into reunion a the point of the sword we still ,anticipated prompt military success on the part of the North. The only reserve affecting our judgment was a doubt about the earnestness and unanimity of the South in claiming independence. That condition being satisfied, we considered that though twenty mil lions of men were certainly stronger than nine millions, they were not so much stronger as to have any chance of subjugating these nine millions, dispersed as they were over an almost illimitable territory. We hardly doubted the immediate superiority of the North in the field. The general expectation of Englishmen was that the South would soon be overrun,that its sea-ports would be all captured andoccupied, and that strong Federal garris sons would hold its chief towns. In short, we antici pated that the first six months, or, at any rate, the first year of the war, would sue the prostration of the Confederates thus far completed ; but it was then that we thought the hopelessness of the work would begin to be felt. If at that time we could have foreseen that the successes of the North after more than two years of' desperate fighting would amount only to the achievements now recounted with so much complacency by Mr. Seward, we should have thought the task of the Washington Government more impracticable than ever. We venture to add that Mr. Seward himself would have been very much of the same opinion. We think it may be said with some truth that it the Federal Government had, at the beginning of the year 1861, foreseen that in the middle of the year 1863 the seceding States would still be free, Richmond and Charleston still safe, and Washington in some little danger, the war would never have been undertaken at all. That Mr. Seward, at this period of the strife, should be reduced to sing a mats over the deliverance of the North from the invasion of a Southern army is about the strongest possible proof of the hopelessness 'of his cause. The Federals thought to sweep the Southern States with their irresistible forces. At first they actually imagined that three months and 70,000 men would suffice for the work. A single battle taught them the extent of this miscalculation, and though they still limited the time to " ninety days" they expanded the arma ment to 700,000 soldiers. The 700,000 did no more than the 70,000—in fact, they were defeated in the East, and evenly matched in the West. All that can he said at this moment of Northern exultation is that the Federals have taken two places on the Mississippi after sieges three times as tedious and as costly's:ls they were expected to be, and that they have not bad their own capital occupied by the enemy, as seemed highly probable two months ago. Mr. Seward, while colouring his history as favour ably as he can, is compelled to talk of drawn battles as events creditable to the Federal arms ; and the very paper which is designed to show the unques tionable ascendancy of the North speaks of the " necessity of covering the national capital," and the absolute equality of the belligerent forces in its im mediate vicinity. There might be some purpose in Mr. Seward's present exposition if either we in this country or the Americans in the Federal States had begun by regarding the belligerents as equally matched, and the war as likely to be protracted on even terms for a long series of years. This, how ever, was not the case, and we are therefore not much impressed with the moderate balance of suc cess which Mr. Seward claims for his own side. In point of fact, taking one field with another, the South has had a greater share of victory than the North, and its only conspicuous failure, indeed, was in an attempt to bring the war to a close by the capture of the Northern capital. Even now General Lee is by all accounts more likely to resume the offensive than General Meade; and though we do not hear that the Federals are preparing immediately to in= vade the territories of the Confederates, we do hear that the Confederates may be expected at any mo ment in the country of the Federals. This is not much of a case for a Power pretending so distinctly to superiority as to complain that the character of a belligerent is accorded to its rival. On that point, indeed, let any one read Mr. Seward's own descrip tions, in this very document, of the strength, the numbers, and the bearing of the Confederate armies, and then say if the South be not entitled to the designation of a belligerent. Why, in recording the battle of Antietam, the Federal Secretary is actually compelled to expatiate on the identical qualities of the contending forces, and to add that the Northern soldiers were then proved, for the first time, to be not inferior in heroism and valour. Practically, then, the very gist and essence of Mr. Seward's argument is fatal to its object. If all is true that he tells us, that all is infinitely short of what we were prepared to take for granted two years ago, without being any the more sanguine of Northern success. We thought the North would overrun the South in a brief cam paign, but would then find its difficulties begin. Mr. Seward tells us that after two years of mortal struggle the North has not overrun a quarter of the South — having the real difficulty stili in prospect as before. We only conclude from this that the Federals have not even that superiority for which we gave them credit; and that the relative strength of the Confederates is by so much the greater. If Mr. Seward really wishes to make converts of French and English statesmen, be must adopt a very diffe rent line of argument. He must show us either that the South is evincing a readiness to yield, or that the North has a policy which will admit of the restoration of the Union without this submission. But he shows neither of these things. On the con trary, he tells us that the Southern President has just proclaimed a levy en masse, while of his own Government he says nothing, except that it is pre paring to prosecute the wer as before. But what is to be the end ? Europe thinks that the reconstruc tion of the Union by force of arms is an impossi bility, and a very great number of Americans are of the same opinion. Europe also sees distinctly that the South gives not the slightest sign of con cession, while even the fortunes of the war are not upon the whole very unevenly balanced. Not, therefore, without reason do we persist in our original opinions on the subject; but though Mr. Seward has thus lost his pains, we can console him with the assurance that, so far as we are concerned, they were needlessly expended. It his object was merely to deter us from intervention, it is safe in spite of the failure of this argument. In the "do mestic controversies" which have cost upwards of 500,000 lives and at least 500 millions of money in two years, we have not the least design of inter fering. The "adjustment" of these little matters we are ready to leave to Americans themselves as "exclusively" as Mr. Seward can desire; and if we odd another remark upon a point so certain, it is merely to suggest that people who thus busy them selves even superfluously in deprecating our inter vention might be a little less forward in threatening us with the extremities which would drive us to intervene. DAILY NEWS.--After having haughtily rejected the temperate remonstrances of the three Powers on behalf of Poland, and continued to perpetrate in that unhappy country atrocities that wou ld h ave disgraced any civilised pow er , R ussia has, it is said, become suddenly impressed with the truth of these zemonstrances, and determined at length to do an act of tardy justice to the Poles. Acecording to the rumour, the ruthless military desp o ti sm wh i ch drove the Polish nation to desp a i r i s to be replaced by a systemof virtualself government. 'fhekingdom is to have an. independ ent po li t i cal organisation, with a Diet of its own assembling at Warsaw, in a word,it is to possess representative institutions and a national government, its political connexion with Russia tieing represented by an Imperial Viceroy at the head of the executive. But according to the mar vellous rumour, even this is not all, or nearly all in the way of constitutional reform, that Russia is prepared to grant. If the Paris journals may be trusted, the Poles in their gallant struggle have achieved constitutional freedom not only for them selves but for the whole Russian Empire. The Emperor i s sa id to h ave matured the project of a liberal const i tut i on for the whole empire, with a central Organ, consisting of two chambers—a Senate and Representative Assembly. The plan includes, besides this central organisation, separate liberal constitutions for the provinces, which are to be divided i nto n i ne d i str i cts, each having a local Diet or Provincial Assembly of its own. The plan is in appearance vast and imposing enough, no doubt. B u t it i s i m p oss ible to avoid being somewhat sceptical as to its real value and probable results. It is difficult to believe that the Emperor or his Council sincerely desires to inaugurate a system of popular government, and the circum stances under which the attempt is made are pe culiarly open to suspicion. Though it is compara tively easy in seasons of peril or pressure to make temporary or nominal concessions to popular de mands, the habits and instincts of arbitrary power are not so easily thrown off. And the proposal to convert a gigantic military despotism, an elaborately organised system of pure force, into a free political federation, certainly looks much more like a mise en scene than a scheme of sincere and practical re form. Even were the sincerity of the Russian Go vernment less exposed to just suspicion, and the scheme in itself more feasible, the moment selected for its promulgation, as well as the circumstances under which it appears, are peculiarly unfavourable for its implicit acceptance. The scheme is avowedly projected in the interest of the Russian Govern ment rather than of the Russian Empire—in order to get.rid for the time of the Polish difficulty. And it is very clearly designed even more for Europe at large than for either Russia or Poland. It is in fact but too clearly designed as a temporary expe dient to meet the urgent requirements of European opinion and conciliate foreign support, rather than as a bona fide attempt to solve in a satis factory manner the real difficulties of the Polish question. HERALD.—Again have we to chronicle an altera tion in the aspect of affairs in Lancashire. Daring the last month there has been a small but steady increase in pauperism, but now an unexpected change has taken place, and once more there is a diminution reported. Mr. Farnall's return for the 22d ult. shows that during the seven days ending at that date, the names of 1,251 persons were re moved from the parish books, making a total decrease since the 6th of December last year of 127,003. It would have been satisfactory if some information had been furnished as to the cause which led to the deduction of over 1,000 persons in a single week, as it is only three weeks since it was, we may almost say officially, announced that the cotton trade could this year do nothing more towards lessening poverty in the North ; neither have we received intelligence of the commencement of any public works to account for the improve ment. Under these circumstances we can only come to the conclusion that the change is in a great measure duo to the transfer of a number of appli cants for aid from the care of poor law guardians to that of relief committees. We may be wrong, but we certainly have no news from Lancashire to warrant us in taking a more hopeful view of the matter. In point of fact, as we are now put in pos session of information relative to the works pro posed to be carried out under the provisions of the new act, we are more than ever convinced that the coming winter will witness a terrible amount of misery in the cotton districts. This time last year the effects of the cotton famine were considered to be so distressing, and even alarming, that the sym pathies of the entire nation were enlisted on behalf of the operatives. What was done for them it is needless to state; but now let us see what are the results. In place of any decrease in poverty we find that after the lapse of a year pauperism has abso lutely increased. The return for the week ending the 22d ultimo states that in the 27 unions there were 144,980 persons in receipt of parochial relief, while in the corresponding week of 1862 the number was 134,702, so that there is an addi tion of 10,248 persons. We roust also take into consideration the operatives who are now being as sisted by local committees, and Mr. Farnall reports 78,980 persons so relieved. We see, then, that on the 22d of last month no less than 223,930 persons were dependent upon poor rates or public charity for support. We have not at hand the return of the numbers assisted by relief funds in the corres ponding week of 1862; but we find that on the 13th of September last year the total of distressed persons in the cotton districts was, in round num bees, 260,000, or only 36,070 in excess of the number requiring aid on the 22d of August this year_ It mast be remembered, also, that in 1862 the cotton t ra d e was i n so m i sera bl e a condition that virtually it was ruined. Since then there has been a revival; many mills have re-opened, and the calculation as to the supply of cotton being sufficient to employ the operatives on half-time has proved correct. This year, also, the attempt has been made to find temporary employment on outdoor work for the hands, and the experiment has been attended with a certain amount of success ; nor must we forget that during the year emigration has taken away some of the hands. Yet we see that pauper ism is at a higher point than it was at the corres ponding period in 1862, the truth being that the rapid increase of poverty in Lancashire which took place last autumn has created such disasters that we can discover little prospect of any permanent good being effected for some time to come. It is very well to speak of the elasticity of the cotton traoe, and of its ultimate revival we have no fears, but what is to be done in the meantime ? That is the question which must be faced, and it is useless hoping to get over the difficulty by attempting to carry out schemes which have the effect of keeping the operatives in an unsettled state. How far the great Government labour scheme is likely to answer we have ample evidence in the discussion which took place at the last meeting of the Central Com mittee. That the money will be borrowed by the local authorities is certain, but to what use will it be devoted? Mr. Rawlinson has furnished the reply. He stated on AI mday last that a consider able portion of the money asked for was to be applied to the erection of public buildings. That is to say, the sum set apart for the express purpose of ministering to the wants of the operatives, by em ploying them as unskilled labourers, it is in con templation to devote to works which will specially bentflt skilled labourers, i.e., stonemasons and bricklayers. Indeed, the fears now expressed in the North are not on account of the unfortunate mill hands, but on account of there being a scarcity of trained workers. The Poor-law Board, has, we know, a voice in the matter, and we trust that it will use its power and oblige the local authorities to undertake such works as drainage, road-making, laying out parks, and other improvements which require the maximum amount of unskilled labour. Unless this be done, even the small amount of good which the new ac t is capa b le of e ff ect i ng will be materially lessened. We are glad to see that Mr. Rawlinson takes this view of the case; and we feel certain that Lord Derby, in his capacity of chair man to the Central E xecut i ve Committee, will em ploy his powerful influence to protect the interests of the mill-hands. We must not omit to point oat that the very fears entertained as to the possibility of obtaining skilled labour to assist in carrying out the contemplated works show that the labour mar ket in England is by no means overstocked. In fact paucity of hands is a difficulty with which many trades have now to contend. Since the com mencement of the crisis in Lancashire we have on several occasions heard complaints of a scarcity of labour. In the West of England we believe that textile weavers are needed, and Mr. Baker, one of the inspectors of factories, has reported that the shoe manufacturers of Leicester are in want of work people. We know, also, that in:some of the agricul tural districts there is, at the present moment, con siderable difficulty in obtaining hands for field-work. We believe, therefore, that if some systematic plan were only adopted, it would shortly result in ob taining from various districts applications for work people; and unless the t ra i n i ng t h e L ancashire operatives have received in the mills has only had the effect of converting them into mere machines, capable of performing but one kind of work, we see no reason why they should not be able to turn their hands to other occupations. AN EXCELLENT PHOTOGRAPH OF MULREADY, taken not many months since by Messrs. Cundall and Dowries, has recently been published. He is represented seated in that attitude known to all his friends as charac• teristic, with his knees crossed, his hands in the lap, the chin a little advanced, the eyes peering in the manner he had. POULTRY FOR THE MILLION.—The marvel and mystery of our importation of eggs and poultry from the Continent are as great as they were 10 years ago. We tire always saying, all over the country, that we cannot conceive why we do not raise fowls enough to supply our own needs,—seeing how cheaply they may be managed, and how little trouble they give. It used to be sup posed that every cottager on any common, or in any lane, had fowls stepping and picking about his gable-end ; and it has been considered an evidence of the dullness of the labouring class in the rural districts that they have not ex tended their poultry-rearing as the demand from the towns increased. We see fowls swarming in every farmyard, and round the maltster's and distiller's granaries ; and here and there we hear of an establishment for the rearing of poultry alone : but the wants of the population are very far indeed from being met. Even if we raised fowls enough to supply the tables of the gentry as at present, we should have to ask why other people should not eat poultry as well as the gen try. If there were poultry enough raised, every cottager in the country, and every town-labourer, might as well have a fowl for his dinner as a rasher of bacon. The high price is altogether artificial, as any traveller in a variety of coun tries can tell. It is the scarcity which makes the high prices, and it is the desultory and unprogressive way i n which the rearing of fowls is managed which makes the profits of that department so precarious as we are assured they are. The experience of foreigners justifies us in this conclusion.—Once-a-Week. Full benefit of reduced duty obtained by pur chasing Horniman's pure Tea; very choice at 38 4d. and 48. " High Standard "at 4s. 4d. (formerly 4s. Bd.), is the strongest and most delicious imported. Agents in every town supply it in packets, Reminiscences of the Opera. ..-- My earliest recollections of the opera are of the days when Sontag was the madness of the hour—the Jenny Lind of an aristocratic public. But these memories are vague. Burningly vivid is the memory of Pasta, the unapproach able; she stands out, like Kean, Paganini, and Rachel, among my artistic experiences, as something quite special and unforgettable. Merely because he sang with her, I also remember Curioni, who, I fear, was a stick. It is with Grisi's first season that my steady vision of the past begins : and what a succession of triumphs were those seasons in which she conquered and held ber public, aided by Rubini, Tamburini, and Lablache I Suffer me for a moment to call up those vanished images with which so many readers must connect enchanting memories. It was unfortunate for Grisi's fame with the present generation that she continued on the stage many years after the glory of her voice and person had faded. She was to the last deservedly a great attraction ; no one could rival her in her own parts; and " old Grisi," as she was half affectionately called, proved better worth'seeing and hearing than the younger rivals who tried to wrest the sceptre from her. Nevertheless, it is only those who heard her between the years 1834 and 1844 who have a real conception of that matchless voice and superb beauty which placed her above all the operatic heroines of our time, 'I hero have been finer singers and greater actresses, but no one has been at once so beautiful arid impassioned ; no one has united her excellencies ; no one has been so thoroughly satisfactory. Elvira, in " I Puritani," has since been played by Persiani, Lind, and Bosio ; nevertheless the opera has been a failure since Grisi ceased to play in it. The part of Lucrezia Borgia was written for Caroline Ungher ; I saw her play it many times, and thought no one could surpass her in it ; but when the opera was produced in Lon don, I confessed that the feverish passion of Ungher was many degrees less admirable than the terrible beauty and large style of Grisi. Norma, Donna Anna, Semiramide, Nina, Norina—what visions they were I . . . Rubini, so indelibly associated with her, was a marvellous singer, and, until his failing voice made him resort to a provoking sys tem of alternate shout and whisper, no such tenor was to be heard. But as an actor he was null. He had no idea of cos tume, and was often saved from being "a guy" only by his unaffected bearing. He had neither grace nor energy; moving about the stage with an indifference which was at times exasperating, and which you may now see reproduced in the dreary languor of Giuglini, without the compensa ting charms of voice and style. Rubini, in great moments, made his voice act for him ; and I doubt whether Rachel herself ever threw more intense expression into a passage than Rubini threw into the curse in "Lucia." As I said, he was a consummate singer, and in grand bursts of bra vura he carried us to the seventh heaven of rapture, Never theless, on the whole, I think Mario would have been pre ferred by most people, when Mario had learned to act, and had not lost his delicious voice, He is undoubtedly the tenor to pair off with Grisi, for the rare union of qualities. So pic turesque, so handsome, so graceful a tenor, who is also so admirable an actor, has not been seen ; and if he could never sing like Rubini, still one cannot imagine Rubini as Raoul, John of Leyden, or Gennaro satisfying the public which has seen Mario. Tamburini was a very handsome man with a superb voice, and great power of florid execu tion. He was a capital favourite with the public, but I do not recall him with the same fervour as the others, His acting was animated and respectable, never above the line. In Assur and Fernando he was very fine, In Don Juan he was rather vulgar, and in Figaro fussy, not funny. The acting of Ronconi as far transcended the acting of Tam burini, as the singing of Tamburini transcended the singing of Ronconi. And what can be said of thee, incomparable Lablache ? Other singers had been admired ; Lablache was , loved. He was certainly one of the grandest-looking men ever seen, and had the most superb voice that has been heard in our time, so full, resonant, and equal, blending so perfectly with other voices,supporting them with firm stacato notes like notes of an organ, and leading them like a clarion. Great in tragedy, and great in riotous humour, the grandeur . and passion of the one never prevented the most fanciful exaggeration in the other; and he had the Immense superi ority over Ronconi that his lazzi never descended to vul garity.—Cornhill Magazine for September. COUNTRY MARKETS. ,__~. BRISTOL-THURSDAY.' At this day's market the supply of English wheat was moderate, which met a fair sale at p r i ces billy as high BS last week. In foreign more doing, arud quite as dear. Some fine samples of new malting barley changed hands at 38s to 395. Grinding sorts scarce. Oats inactive, and Ed to is cheaper. Scareely anything doing in beans. SHELL PRACTICE AT WHITLEY. A large party of excursionists accepted the invitation of Sir W. Armstrong, to witness some gunnery practice with his field guns at Whitley. The train conveying the party consisted of 29 carriages, and owing to a consider able portion of the journey having to be made on the steep ascent of the Blythe and Tyne Railway, as many as three engines were required to take it to its destina• tion. This was by no means an easy matter to accom plish, but after passing through an immense number of points and junctions, the small village of Whitley was finally reached. On the way the visitors passed through a district the very roads of which seemed to be formed and ballasted with coal, tram-roads for letting the trucks run down to the Tyne side for loading the colliers, crossed and recrossed the line in every direction, and at every angle ; black collieries darkened the air with the smoke of their furnaces, and their tall chimneys and the gaunt framework over the pit's mouth, dotting the wide plain of country which lies north of the Tyne, told of the extent, and almost mapped out the boundaries of this section of the northern coal fields. There were many of these mines to which no small amount of interest attached. Such, for instance, as the old Walls End Mine, once the scene of a fearful cala mity, the pit now worked out and full of water, and the works above ground a desolate ruin. There was the Segbill, and in the distance the fiery Burradon, at the latter of which the rope broke but a few hours before, and the tubs of coal as they were being drawn to the surface went crashing down the deep shaft, compelling some 300 pitmen at work at the mine to grope their way through the mine without a light to guide them, for the gas was stored up in many an old and abandoned working, to the shaft of the fiery Seghill mine. But the one most desolate of all, and that to which the saddest interest attaches, is Healey mine, the calamity con nected with which so recently called forth one universal mark of sorrow at the fats of the many poor men who were buried alive in its depths. The mine stands close by the side of the railway, and is one of the most sombre and desolate mines that can well be conceived. There is still to be seen the one half of the massive beam which was left in its place when the other portion fell into the deep pit below. I was able to ascend to the top of the engine -house, and there is still visible two immense cavities or flaws in the mettle casting, to which no doubt the accident was traceable. Below there is still the hideous shaft or pit's mouth, almost as terrible in its operations as the well of Cawnpore. Water has risen in the shaft till it has reached to about 70 feet of the surface, filling of course the lower main in which the men were at work; the yard seam to which they as cended in the vain hope of finding a means of escape ; and the upper seam by which, if an access had existed, they might all have fouad their way in safety to the pit's mouth. Large pieces of timber, broken planks, float upon the sur face of the water, and far down in its depths there lie buried the wrecks of thousands of pounds worth of pro perty, the half of the broken beam that caused the calamity, and not improbably all that remains of the undestroyed corpses of not a few brave and gallant pitmen who I did not even succeed in reaching that upper chamber where their comrades lay strewn in death. The sound of a stone thrown into the shaft Plashes on tho turbid waters and floating timbers, and gives back a dismal moan; as though resenting the attempt to plumb its hideous depths, or dis turb the silent waters that cover the scene of so much deso lation. Here, points out an old man bowed down with grief for his two bairns that were among the victims, was the banks ; here the tubs were raised ; here were the screens, and there the waggon stood that received the coal ; there was the siding of the railway that took away the laden trucks ; there was a long platform—not a vestige of all this former prosperity remains. But sadder scenes than these have passed away, and left not a trace behind. Here, said the old man, the coffins were placed, and there stood one who knew the pitmen well, and as each pair of corpses was brought up in the slings called out their names, and they were put as they were into the coffin that were made for them, and borne away till the long line of coffins stretched right across the platform which stood yonder—and there stood the wives, and mothers, and children, anxious and hoping against hope for those that would return; and there, the wives and mothers came forward to recognise in death those they had known and loved in life. All these, too, have passed away, and the low square towers of the church in the distance point to the spot where the victims of the Hartley catastrophe lie " cairned." Some portions of the buildings still remain standing, though most of it has been sold and pulled down. Six out of the eight boilers for the engine are still in their place ; they have been sold but not yet removed ; heaps of rusty iron, broken wheels, and heaps of brick and stone lie all around, and complete the picture of desolation. A few young children play about the mine which made them orphans, and widows live in the row of pitmen's houses which look out on the first gaunt grave of their husbands. They are all provided for out of the funds which the generosity of a nation pro vided for them. The widows receive 7s 6d a week, the chil dren about the same sum, according to the number in a family, and old men, who were dependent on their sons' labour, also receive a small pittance. After providing to this extent for the wants and necessities of the sufferers by the Hartley calamity, there still remains a large balance in hand, variously estimated at from £20,000 to £40,000, and it would be very satisfactory to the public who subscribed the funds to loam something with respect to the appropria tion of this sum. The universal reply to all inquiries on the subject is that nobody knows anything about it, and a very general wish is expressed that those who are entrusted with t tb h oanr e ededo un chwh d ifflto s hsad, w tthhe o r u ees l rbaaann m langd a e k eesa e osfin s kth o o m hreta e n s d t . atement as to the manner in which they have been distributed, and what they propose • T The ne small village of Whitley lies upon the coast near y m?uth, and the gunnery practice took place on the s ta gu rg u e . ts T b h e e in t g ar r wg e e sp ts ec co ti ns ve i l s y te l d ,6o o o f i a n t a ier gul of l planking strongly supported by and 3,000 yards. The field guns used e t r i e ra l b 2 e - r p 12-pounder props. They were arranged in two-inch y th i r le e h e, itt r d isi a ng sm o a n i e l s a a b n o d ve k t i li ll e , other, the lowest being the second a little higher to the rear, and the third still higher. The target exposed in the view of the gunners consisted only of the upper one of the series, and the height equal to that of the front of a column of infantry. The great object of the practice, which was confined to shell, was to show the destructive effects of its explo,ion upon bodies of men even partially or wholly concealed from view, and that the shell could be dropped upon them with almost faultless precision and with telling effect. About 20 rounds were fired, the first three or four merely for the purpose of getting the of the shell could not be seen at but as the effect . rapidity; range. This once obtained, the firing was continued with disappointment was felt, and a mile at which most of the specta torsll set it down as a miss; and at every discharge one and a the distancetoo oconsiderabledisaPPel d see for them the trouble to walk up to th e tar g et an selves, and went away believing that the whole had b een at the conclusion of the p ractice many who did not take closeinspection of the execu the planking showed, however, that the most seve front of a moat egregious failure, and th at the target was as intact as when the firing commence d. A tion had been made. The ground immediately i n the portions of segment filling which the shells c ontame the targets was torn up by the shells as they struck, while of the brass fazees fitted to them, and the lead and iron casing of the shells were scattered thickly over the surface of the tat gets. In some cases large pieces of the shell had been forced through the first target, and then, rebound -1 lag, had struck the second one in the rear, and burled thP)32- MANCHESTER--THIIRSDAY. ----- At our market this morning there was a tolerable at• tendance of buyers, and, with a continuance of rain, a firmer feeling was apparent. The demand for new English wheat was more free, at prices is per qr higher than on five day se'nnight. Foreign wheat also in improved demand. Oats were easier to sell, and must be quoted as before, but oatmeal was limited in sale. B eans stea d y, and Indian corn at about late rates, Flour a fair sale. BIRMINGHAM—THURSDAY. At to-day's market there was a moderate show of wheat, which found buyers at r ither over last week's currencies. --English wheat was sold at 46s to 50s for white, and 40s to 46s per 36 stone for red. Barley, new malting, 36s to 40s per qr ; grinding, 26s to 30s Oats, old, 24s to 30s per 30 stone ; Irish, 21s to 255. Beans, 40s to 44s per qr. . Peas, 36s to 44s per 36 stone. CORK-SEPT. 2. The following were the quotations this morning :—Red wheat, 8s Od to —s 0‘1; white, 10s 3d to —s Od , barley, 6s Od to Os Od ; oats, 7s 6d to Os Od. ; black do., 5s 9d to 8s 2d. EDINBURGH GRAIN—SEPT. 2. A fair supply of farmers' wheat to-day, which met A free sale at is above the prices of last week. Barley met a fair sale, and prices unaltered. Oats dull. Beans were in fair request Wheat on the top is Od down average Os ld up. Barley on the top Os 6d down average Os 5d down. Oats on the top is 6d down. average Os 10d down. Beans on the top 4s 3d up ...average 4s 3d up. Total Supply and Sales. Wheat ...1008 qrs Sold 638 qrs 8ar1ey........ 150 qrs Sold 149 qrs Oats Beans 3l qrs Sold 10 qrs Flour sells as follows :—Whites, 40s Od ; extras, 38s Od ; superfine, 36s Od ; fine, 34s Od. DERBY SMITHFIELD—SEPT. I. There was a short supply of fat beasts to-day, and the best quality of beef wa, both scarce and dear. The num ber of sheep and lambs was good, and last week's prices were maintained. The show of fat pigs was large, and good demand. Fat calves were less plentiful. Beet 6d to 7d Veal 6id to 7d Mutton 6id to 7d Pork Lamb Bd to —d Rough fat, 3s 9d per stout p Hides, 3d to 41d; calf skins, 5d to 6d. Foreign Mail Packet List. MAILS DUE. Australia and Mauritius, via Southampton Sept. 18. via Marseilles Sept. 12. Brazil and Cape Yards, by British packet. Oct. 5. Cape of Good Hope, Ascension, and St. Helena Sept. 28. China, Penang, and Singapore, via Southampton Sept. 18. via Marseilles Sept. 12. Falkland Islands Gibraltar, via Southampton .................. Sept. 10. India (Calcutta), and Ceylon, via S outhampton.. Sept. 18. lndia via Marseille s .... S ept. 12. (Bombay), via Southampton. ............ Sept. 10. via Marseilles ................ Sept. 4. Portugal Malta, ............ Oct. 5. Egypt, and Aden, via Southampton Sept. 10. via Marseilles Sept. 4. Newfoundland .. Sept. 17. Oporto and Vigo ............ U. S. and Briti s h N. A mer i ca, b y Brit. packet.. . .. . . Sept. 11, by - U.S. packet.... _ by Canadian packet. Sept. 4. W.C. of Africa, Madeira, and Teneriffe .. Sept. 10. Bahamas, via New York Mexico. . ...Sept. 4.8. All parts of W es t I n di es , i nc l u di ng Chili, Peru, I Sept. 14, California. and British Columbia.. THE NEW NORTHERN CIRCUIT.—Tfie New Northern Circuit it is expected will be shortly appointed. Under the New Circuit Act an alteration can be made in the number of revising barristers. Births. BARRY.—On thy 3d inst., the wife of John George Barry, E rF s n ci the 2d lust., at D over House, Whitehall, Vi scoun tess Clifden, of a son awl heir. KING.—On the 2d inst., at 70, L own d es-square, the wife oM ;N f.— riton oen's Wharf, of a son. CL of Captain Frank King, 13th Hussars, of a son and heir. SOUTHGATE.—On the 3d inst., at The Elms, Lee, the wife of Tutnell Southgate, Esq., of a son. Marriages. CORBETT—Durrox,—On the 2d inst., at Bibury, Glou cestershire, Edwin C or b ett , Esq., 11,M. Seoretary of Le gation at Frankfort, to the Hon. Emily Isabella Constance Dutton, second daughter of the Lord Sherborne. DAVIRS—H UMPIIRYS.—On the 2d inst., at i,heltenhaMt Captain Frederick John Davies, Indian Army, to Sophie, the eldest d aug h ter o f George Humphrys, Esq., Suffolk House, Cheltenham. Deaths. ASH. —On the 30th ult., at Trinity-square, Southwark, Curtis, relict of the late Robert Ash, Esq., aged 65. Gittuct.—On the let inst., at Broughty Ferry, Mrs. A. 0- Greig, sen., aged 83. SoAmEs.—On the 2d inst., at Lee Park, James Soames, Esq., aged 92. SEATON.—On the Ist inst., Mr. Joseph Seaton, of Rich mond, Surrey, aged 80. SIIARMA.N.—On the 3d inst., at Cherson House, Wood.. green common, Caroline Lydia, wife of Wm. Sharman, Esq , aged 42. WELLS.—On the 31st ult., at Stanley-place, Paddington , Joseph Wells, Esq., aged 65. London: Printed and Published by WILLIAM ANDREWS , of No. 112, Strand, Printer, at TUE SUN Office No. 1 12 Strand, in the Precinct of the Savoy, in the CountY Middlesex Friday .'_September 4, 1863. Ur ]