The Sun. — London, England, 1863-05-27 00:00:00

:E CIVIL WAR IN AMERICA, (From the Correspondent of the Times.) NEW YORK, May 12. The Government exercises so strict a supervision -over the telegraphic lines, by means of its military censors, that, when, on Saturday last, a few pours after the departure of the Liverpool steamer, it was announced, on the authority of telegraphic de spatchea from Philadelphia, that Richmond had been captured by the forces of General Keyes ad vancing from Yorktown, while General Lee was engaged in desperate battle with General Hooker, the news was generally believed. People would not credit the fact that the Government would not allow such intelligence to be flashed over the wires if it were untrue. But it was untrue, never theless, and not a shadow of foundation. It was an nounced at the same time that Gen. Hooker's army, so far from being defeated and demoralised, was in the highest health and spirits, and had actually commenced to recross the Rappahannock again to offer battle to the Confederates. The people who beiieved the one story were bound to believe the other. The bankers and brokers of Wall-street had by Monday moru.ing so turned these matters over in their minds as to have come to the conclusion that the tw;.n falsehoods were official truths. The price of gold came tumbling down accordingly, and sanguin e patriotism again asserted that the back bone of the rebellion was indubitably broken, and that the war would be at an end within "90 Jays." But as the day wore on it became palpable that the steiry of the capture of Richmond was a fabrication cemcocted in Washington. It was also thought - possible that the story of the advance of Hooker was no better. To-day it is explained that the capture of Richmond by General Keyes was part of the programme as arranged by General Hal leek, and was to have been effected while Lee and his whole army were engaged at Chancellorsville, but that by some fatality the project miscarried. It is also re-affirmed as a fact beyond dispute that Hooker has actually crossed the Rappahan nock, and is in full march towards Richmond, Walther Gen. Lee has retired—and nine people out of ten believe the story. No amount of official false hood seems to blunt the edge of popular credulity. New York is as confident to-day that Hooker is advancing to assured victory as it was three weeks ago, before he had been tried and found wanting. The true history of the movement that ended so disastrously for Hooker's army begins to be disclosed. The campaign was not, it appears, planned by him, but by Gen. Halleck, and Hooker was but but one of four pawns on the military chess-board, while Halleck and Lee were the players. While Hooker engaged Lee in the rear of Fredericksburg, and Richmond was denuded of troops, Gen. Stoneman, at the head of 2,700 horsemen (exaggerated in all the reports to 20,000, for the purpose of deceiving and frightening the enemy), was to make a rapid raid into Virginia, and destroy the railroads and bridges in the rear of Lee, so as to render it impos sible for him, even if he should defeat Hooker, to return to Richmond, except by a painful march of several days through jungle and wilderness and over unfordable streams. Gen. Keyes, at York town, aided by reinforcements from Fortress Mon. roe, was to take advantage of the opportunity and march into Richmond, which it was expected would be wholly unprovided with troops, and unable to offer any resistance. Gen. Stoneman performed his part in the mostbrilliant manner, scattering dis may on every side as, like a whirlwind, his wild horsemen scoured over the country, destroying a before them. But the Confederate Government a Richmond scented the danger and divined the plan. Procuring reinforcements from the south of their capital in sufficient numbers to make it hazardous for Gen. Keyes to advance, it entirely foiled one part of the scheme. In the meantime Gen. Lee finding Hooker's army divided into two—the one portion, under the command of Gen. Sedgwick, at Fredericksburg ; the other, under General Hooker, at Chancellorsville,—attacked and defeated both . the former with the loss of 6,000 men out of 10,000: and the latter with the loss of at least 18,000 in killed, wounded, and missing. It is asserted by Hooker's friends and admirers that the elements, and not the strategy of Lee or the bravery of the Confederate army, compelled him to retreat across the Rappahannock, and that it would have been madness in him to remain in the rear of Fredericks- burg with that place in the possession of the enemy, and the Rappahannock swollen above its banks by the fiercest and most protracted rain storm of the season. No doubt it would have been unwise; but in war, however different it is or ought to be in other matters, success is the only test by which the world can judge of merit; and the possible change of weather was one of the contingencies which good generalship ought to have taken into account and duly provided against. When the President and General Halleck visited General Hooker at his for- mer camp at Falmouth, the latter is reported to have been in no wise daunted by his want of suc- cess ; to have treated the loss of 24,000 men as a small calamity, scarcely worth mentioning consider ing the work that had been done; to have repre- sented his return to Falmouth as a mere march, and to have urgently requested and obtained permission to recommence where he had left off—by once more crossing the river and proceeding to Richmond, through and over any force with which General Lee might endeavour to oppose him. It is asserted by some that this movement actually commenced on Saturday, the 9th inst., and by others that it has been deferred until to-morrow. From the perti nacity or obstinacy of General Halleck, who en tirely governs the President in military affairs, as well as from the reckless dash and rude courage of General Hooker, goaded as he must be by a sense of failure, and anxious as he probably is to retrieve it, there is a strong probability that Hooker and Lee will again try the fortune of battle on Vir ginian soil, the scene of conflict being the banks of the North Anna or the Pamunkey, and the stake the city of Richmond. It is fortunate for Hooker that he has yet one chance remaining to live or die gloriously. All that need be said, while the issue is undecided, is that if Hooker has really advanced, and his legions are half as hopeful, efficient, and • valorous as the Confederates have proved them- selves, the greatest and bloodiest battle of the war is likely to be fought within the next fortnight. In this rapid review of the situation the fact ahould not be omitted that General Stoneman, in his brilliant raid, committed no damage that the Confederates could not have repaired within three or four days, and that had he not made a swift detour to his starting place his whole force would have been captured. Creditable as his operations were to himself and to his men, and ranking as they will do among the most exciting episodes of the war, they cann o t be said to have produced the re sults anticipated, or done more than give General Lee's army an amount of work in rail-placing and bridge-buildin g upon wlaich he did not calculate when he left his intrenchments. From other quarters come preliminary rumours and announcements which tend to prove that Mr. Lincoln's Generals and Admirals are " pegging away" at Charleston and Vicksburg, and that this pleasant month of May w ill not pass over without being made more memorable in the history of Southern independence than any previous month since the attack upon Fort Sumter. For the benefit of the few Republican doctrina ires 1 in England who see m to think that the Federa l Government can do no wrong it may be de sirable to put a question on the subject of free discussion in time of war. What, it may be asked, would the people of England have thought, said, or done under the following circumstances, supposing it to have been possible they could have occurred? John Bright, an able, clear-headed, logical speaker, and an earnest advocate of peace, addresses the people of Rochdale, in the year 1854, on the subject of the war in the Crimea. So high is his reputation for eloquence, as well as for courage and patriotism, that not only his immediate neigh bouts and friends, but multitudes of people from all the contiguous districts, gather to listen to his voice and cheer the manly expression of his sentiments. He denounces the war as wrong in principle, erro neous in policy, unjust and iniquitous in itself, and more dangerous in its continuance to the liberty and prosperty of the British people than to the stability of the Russian Empire, He declares that Lord Aberdeen is little better than an old woman, that Lord Panmure thinks too much of "Dowb" and too little of his duty to the country to be a s Ife or an efficient Minister in a time of national danger; that speculation and peculation, jobbery and robbery, pervade every department of the public service; and that war, always deplorable and wicked, is parti cularly horrible and unchristian when waged in de fence of such a rotten and eifete institution as the Turkish empire, which maintains slavery, and is therefore no fit member of the comity of nations. He is not aware, while speaking, that two officers of the Grenadier Guards, disguised in citizen's attire, have been sent to the meeting by the War-office to take notes of his speech, and, having ended his ora tion, amid the enthusiastic applause of his audience, goes home to supper. A few night afterwards, think ing no evil, and believing himself to be a citizen of a free country, he retires quietly to bed as usual. But his sleep is not permitted to be of long duration. Shortly after midnight he is aroused by a violent knocking at the outer door. He springs to his feet, thinking the house is on fire, and rings the fire alarm accordingly. His wife, children, and house hold gather in great alarm, in their night clothes, on the stairs and passages. The outer door is bat tered in, and a company of soldiers enter, the cap tain with his sword in his hand, and each man pre sents a bayonet at the breast of the bewildered legis lator. The ladies and children scream or faint, while Mr. Bright is told to dress immediately and consider himself a prisoner. Mr. Bright dresses himself, but objects to go to prison. Tne generous blood of a true-hearted Englishman rushes to his face, and he declares that he will rather die defending his life than yield to his lawless and brutal captors. His words are vain. He is violently seized and hurried through the streets to the railway station, where a special train is in waiting to convey him to Bir mingham. On arrival he is locked up in a military prison. Next morning he is brought before a court martial, composed of one brigadier -general, one colonel, one lieutenant-colonel, three majors, and two captains, and put on trial on a charge of sedition and treason. He declines to acknowledge the juris diction of the court, and demands as a British sub ject to be tried before a civil judge and a jury of his Icountrymen. His demand is haughtily, summarily rejected, and the trial proceeds. The officers and " gentlemen" who condescended to act the part of spies for the Government detail and somewhat per vert the expressions which he used in denunciation of the war and the conduct of the Administration ; and after an investigation which lasts two days, Mr. Bright is committed to prison until the judges agree upon their verdict and decide whether he shall be incarcerated till the war is over, banished to Russia to live for the future among the friends with who m he sympathises, or summarily shot or hung. Would the British people tamely submit to such a wrong in flicted even upon a much humbler person than John Bright ? Would not the newspapers of all shades of political opinion unite in expressing their indig nant displeasure ? And would not the House of Commons and the House of Lords also ring with denunciation of the act ? And, if these bodies were not in Session, would not every city and town in the empire hold immense public meetings to ca upon the Queen to dismiss from her councils the unworthy Ministry who so degraded their function and so grievously imperilled the pnblic peace ? Every honest Englishman who values the inesti mable right of free discussion and the supremacy of law will reply in the affirmative. Substitute the name of Clement Laird Vallandigham for that of John Bright,and the war against the South for the war against Russia; lay the scene in Ohio in 1863 instead of in England in 1854, and the imaginary story becomes true; and every incident related is a _ . _ literal fact. And what, it maybe asked in England, have the Americans done under the circumstances ? They have done nothing. The leading newspapers are silent. The leading people are so busily engaged in making money that they have neither time nor inclination to attend to such a trivial matter. A meeting of Democrats held to protest against the wrong is but thinly attended. Several clergymen publicly from the pulpit approve the "vigour" displayed by the Government, and rabid politicians in petticoats express their unfeminine joy at the arrest of so distinguished a Copperhead, and hope that h 6 will be hanged or shot, as a warn ing to other evildoers who dare to speak of peace. It may be objected to the comparison between the imaginary case of Mr. Bright and the actual case of Mr. Vallandigham that in the one it is a foreign war which is in question, and in the other a civil war. The distinction may be admitted without damage to the inference. If a man be the free citizen of a constitutional Government he has the same right to criticise the acts of people in power and the policy of the Administration, whether the criticism apply to domestic or to foreign affairs. It is only an arbitrary despotism that will deny such right or punish its exercise. The specification of the charges against Mr. Val landigham, as set forth by the Judge-Advocate, might suggest the doubt not only whether America is, but whether it had ever been, a free country : " On or about the Ist of May, at Mont Vernon, Knox County, in the State of Ohio, he, the said Clement Laird Vallandigham, declared the present war to be ' wicked, cruel, and unnecessary ;" a war for the purpose of crushing out liberty and erecting a despotism;" a war for the freedom of negroes and the enslavement of white men;' and that 'if the Government had so wished, peace might have been honourably attained by listening to the proposed ntermediation of France." These were the main points of the alleged treason, brought out in fuller detail by the military spies who gave evidence before the court. One of them, a captain, who trusted partly to memory and partly to written notes, de clared that Mr. Vallandigham had said " that peace might have been restored some months ago, the Union saved by reconstruction, and the North (Mr. Vallandigham said the South) won back and gua ranteed in its rights." It was also declared by Mr. Vallandigham,—" That the Federal armies did not meet with success; that neither Richmond, nor Charleston, nor Vicksburg was taken ; that the Mississippi was not opened, nor would be, as long as there was cotton to sell or contractors to be rewarded ; that no more volunteers could be had ; and that the Administration had to re sort to a French conscription Act." He added, " that he would not counsel resistance to the mili tary or civil law, as that was not needed." Mr. Vallandigham, it appears, Explained at the close of his speech that the legitimate and peaceful action of the people at the polls was the true remedy for misgovernment, and " advised the people to come together to the ballot-box, at the appointed time, and hurl the tyrant from his throne." It is as cer tain as that all men must die that if the forms of American liberty last as long as Mr. Lincoln's term of office, the agency of the ballot-box will consign that unlucky functionary to private life, and elect some other President in his stead; and why, in the lt 8 or Kaiser, and why meantime, Mr. Linco . ln h sh ou ou ld ld b b e e co g n r s e i a d t e e r r e t d h t a r n ea P e o o p n e . able to say of so comparat i vely it treasonable to say smalla person— what no one ever thought of —is one of the many mysteries a so great a hero and patriot asGenodrgaenoWmaasliheiengtthoent will, perhaps, puzzle the future historianas they pu zz l e a ll di s i n t eres t e d spec tators events. Alt oge th er , M r . V a ll an di g ham r eported by the military au th or ities who gave evi ofcurrentasm mach dence a ga i nst him, was not only patrioti cin speech, as purpose and logical in argument, hut singularly free from any violence, or even impropriety of expression on which a sane man could found a charge either of treason or sedition ; and if an American, who claims a a i nt a Sovereig n , inin g hy not a the p subject,rinei ple e and of w t hehco Constitution sti justified tu tion t in o b m e that the President is his servant and creature, to be itr Foolish made or unm a d e b y his breath, cannot cricise hi s - servant's conduct or policy, hie wisdom o ness, as the case may be, American liberty • is a thing of the past, and the coming despot has but to appear and make an end of its name as well as its substance. The swarm of returning volunteers whose term of service has expired continues to encumber the streets and draw the people out to make holyday. Saturday, Sunday, and yesterday were all busy days in this respect, and Broadway presented from sun- rise to sunset the busy and festal appearance which it might be imagined to exhibit if peace were re stored, and the conquering heroes by whose valour it was won had come back with all their gory hon- Postcript.—General Hooker has outdone Pope, Bobadil, Munchausen, and himself in the matter of bold, brazen, unblushing brag. In a congratula tory order to the Amy of the Potomac, dated on the 6th inst., but only made known to the public of this city this evening by telegraphic despatch from Falmouth, he claims a great victory over the Confederates. Though he admits that the army did not accomplish all that was expected, he thinks that, as the army knows the reasons of its own little failure, nobody has any right to complain or criticise, and asserts that "it will give or decline battle as its interest or honour may demand." He also affirms that it will be " the guardian of its own history and its own arms ;" and is of opinion that it " has added new laurels to its former renown," because it " has made long marches, crossed rivers, surprised the enemy in his entrenchments, and whenever it has fought has inflicted heavier blows than it has received." He claims to have " taken from the enemy 5,000 prisoners, captured seven pieces of artillery, placed hors de combat 18,000 of his chosen troops, destroyed his depots, filled with vast amounts of stores, damaged his communica tions, captured prisoners within his fortifications, and filled his country with fear and consternation." These are brave words, and General Hooker's boasts almost assume the character of sublimity. They take people's breath away to read them, and compel the question whether the Army of the Poto mac is either deceived or pleased by them, whether the rank and file are truly of opinion that their commander is so mighty a man of war as he repre sents himself to be, or whether they would not have a hundredfold more confidence in such a man as M'Clellan than in such a vain blusterer as this. General Hooker passes lightly over his own loss, and is consoled for the death of his brave com panions, whose number he does not estimate, — though other people place them as high as 20,000 or 25,000—" by the conviction that they have fallen in the holiest cause ever submitted to the arbitra ment of battle." General Hooker should leave off writing. If after such a piece of bombast he does not immediately swallow up Gen Lee and all his force he will be in a position ridiculous enough to ruin any public man in any country in the world—ex cept America. Mr. Roebuck, M.P., on the Recognition of the South. SHEFFIELD, Tuesday Evening. A great open- air meeting was held in Paradise square to day, to consider the advisableness of memorializing Govern ment to " use its good offices to procure a suEpension of hos tilities between the North and South, with a view to an ar rangement of the difference between them." The meeting was called, in pursuance of a requisition, by the Mayor (Mr. J. Brown, and was attended by about 10,000 persons, in cluding all classes of the inhabitants. Mr. Roebuck had been announced to address the meeting, and he was received with considerable cheering. The MAYOR opened the proceedings by stating the object of the meeting. He read a letter from Mr. George Hadfield, M.P., who was unable to attend. There was a good deal said before the meeting about the shortness of the notice that had been given, and an attempt was made to damage the character of the meeting on that ground. The Mayor, however, explained that there had been no unfairness, and that, in fact, the meeting had been called for the last day on which Mr. Roebuck could attend. The extreme Abolitionist party here, who have had small meetings from time to time of their own party, a n d carried votes in favour of the Federals, mustered strongly, and moved an amendment on the present occasion; but their opinions were obviously not acceptable to the vast majority of the meeting. The MAYOR called upon Mr. ROEBUcK—(cheers.)—Gentlemen, first and foremost I hope you will excuse me for keeping my hat on. Now, then, Mr. Mayor—(Here a drunken man, outside the crowd, began delivering a speech on his own account.)—l think that gentleman has begun rather too soon. (Loud cheers and laughter.) (The man persisted in proceeding; and as he had a most stentorian voice, it was hopeless for Mr. Roebuck to attempt to go on. Finally, the oration was cut short by the ruthless grasp of a policeman, who carried the man off amid great laughter.) Now, gentlemen, the question we are about to discuss is one of the highes possible importance. The Mayor has asked me to attend this meeting, for he told me that you would be glad to hear my opinions. (Hear, bear.) Those opinions shall be frankly stated to you. It is my habit always to speak out. If you don't like 'em, I can't help it. (Laughter.) I have done my best to attain to what I conceive to be a wise judgment, and you must hereafter decide whether you coincide in it or not. It is to me a matter of great grati fication that you should pay such respect to me as to ask me my opinion. I think that it is honourable to rue and honourable to you ; for you have chosen a man in whom you have confidence, and you are prepared to ask him his opinion, letting him know at the same time that though you will give it due weight, you still reserve to yourselves the power—aye, and the responsibility—of judging for yourselves. (Hear, hear.) Now, what is the question which we have come here to discuss ? So far as I am con cerned, I can tell you that it is to me an entirely English question. What I have to consider is what is for the inte rest of England. What is for her interest I believe to be for the interest of the world. We hold such a position that every step taken by England as a country reverberates throughout the whole world, and influences the happiness of every man. (" Hear," and a loud voice " No," followed by cries of " Turn him out," and confusion.) Well, this gentleman is so vehement a friend of peace that he won't keep it. (Laughter.) I was about telling you the way in which I•propose to view this question. I look upon it simply as an English question. What, then, are the circumstances under which we are called upon to act ? I will briefly de scribe them, and beg you to bear with me while I do so, and freely express my opinions to you. Those opinions have not been hastily formed : they are not crotchets of mine. They are the result of long consideration of all the diffi culties by which the question is surrounded. And therefore if I have come to an incorrect conclusion, the fault is not one the of want of care that I have devoted to it. It is that in weakness of my j u d gment I have come to error, Judge for yourselves whether I am in error, but listen while I explain myself, (Hear, hear.) Many years ago Eng land planted grea t colonies in America, They raised them selves up to a great height. They became 3,000,000 of people ; and they then determined to separate from Eng land. They declared th a t th ey had a right to sepa ra t e w h en they thought fit to do so. (Hear, hear.) They supported that judgment of theirs , by arms. They fought England; they beat England (hear, hear); they declared themselves in dependent. (Hear, hear.) The consequence of that is, that they established this great principle among mankind, that when a people are determined to throw off a yoke, whatever that yoke may be, if they have the power, they have the right to do so. (Cheers, and " No, no I") As many as please may cry " No, no ;" I am merely stating what I be. lieve. England resisted these people. Then came France to aid them. France entered into an alliance with our re. that n w yelled colonies. Thereupon we declared war against France, We car r i e d on th a t war . W e were again beaten. We yielded t he independence of America, and we made peace with Frace. Then ag a i n we es t a bli s hed another great principle, hen a People are fighting for their liberty, it is in the P°wer of any othe r St a t e — any neutra l P ew er—to ally them selves with theys With +ls . and have th e power to maintain themselves the so fighting body. They have a right to do are justified in doing so • I i appealing to history. I am not talking wildly. T have he facts are as I state. The con clusionsthey been drawn by mankind. Now, after above 80 years of alliance, the 'United States of America have separated in two. A large body of these states, calling themselves the Confederate States, declared that they would no longer be allied to these United States, but would make themselves independent. (Hear.) They are exactly in the position of the American colonies with regard to England in the year 1777. (No, no.) All I ask is that you will hear. (" What caused the separation ?") I am accus • tomed to speak in a deliberative assembly, and the charac ter of that assembly is this—that I may say things which the great majority of them dislike, but there is that cour tesy in that assembly that they don't interrupt. (Cheers.) They wait till I have done, and if they think me wrong they endeavour to answer me; but they are not discourte ous, and they do not interrupt me. (Cheers.) Then, I say, returning to my argument, the Confederate States, when they determined to secede, were in the condition of the American colonies when they declared that they were determined to be independent. (" Slavery I") I'll come to that by-and-bye, but don't be in such a mighty hurry. (Laughter.) They separated, and what was the feeling in England ? I'll tell you what my feeling was. I know that country. I have been there many years of my life, and I learnt a great deal while I was there. They had a future before them, such as no people ever had before. They had a wonderfully fertile country, intersected with great rivers. They began a free people. They contie nued a free people. They had English law, the English language, English literature; and they were placed in a position such as was never occupied before. Their career foe 80 years was one of unparalleled prosperity. But between them there has grown up a feeling of antagonism. The South were determined to separate; they did separate; and men in England mourned that separation, and no one more than myself, because I believed that if they did separate a great check would be given to the advancement of mankind. The North was separated from the South, and the North began to act. And here begins the lesson I want to read to you. I say I mourned at that separation. But the North themselves, from the very commencement, were so cruel, so determined on empire—(hear, hear, and no, no)—so deter mined on maintaining empire, that they forgot charity, they forgot Christianity; they made themselves a spectacle to the world of cruelty, corruption, and horror. (Cheers.) That being the case my feelings changed, but I did expect that the great power of the North, their wonderful resources, would enable them to subdue the South. But the South stood up, like the real descendants, as they aro, of English • men. (Hear.) They said, " We will vindicate to ourselves the right to govern ourselves ; we will fight to the death for our independence." And they have fought to the death. (Cheers. A voice, " Slavery.") They have conquered the North. (Cheers, and cries of "No, no.") And now I ask myself if the time has come when surrounding nations shall do what we ought to do now—acknowledge the South as an independent nation. Great cheering, and cries of "Never," and " Slavery.") lam about to come to the question of slavery, and I hope the gentlemen who are so anxious about slavery will now be silent. The Northern States of Ame rica hate slavery; but there is one thing they hate still more, and that is the slave. (Cheers.) Now, I know New York well —and people are here who don't know America—and I know this, that the black man in New York is treated as I would not treat a dog. (Cheers.) They have declared in their public documents their determination not merely to conquer the South, but to root out the slave. It is not merely to put an end to slavery; but even President Lincoln, when he talked to these people, quietly advised them to retire from America, "Take yourselves off." (Hear.) Now,nothing could be cooler than that. (Hear, and laughter.) The black man, I take it, has the feelings of a man. He is born in that country, he has a wife and children in that country; and though he is treated very ill in that country—more especially in the North—(cheers and expressions of dissent) —more especially in the North—(hear, hear, and cheers) — he has feelings towards that country, and ho does not wish to be banished from it. (Hear.) But President Lincoln has very peculiar notions about slavery. He issued a pro clamation declaring all the slaves free in those seceded States, and he maintained slavery where his power extended. (Cheers.) And, therefore, I say that was not an honest movement. My countrymen here have kind hearts, and their hearts bleed when they think that men are slaves. I say, can England, by allowing this horrible war to go on, can she, as she has done, being thoroughly neutral between the two—can she, if she can prevent it, in her own con science, allow these horrible atrocities to continue;? Oh, I am met with the cry—l have heard it here—" Slavery. , But what is slavery in the South as compared with the black man's condition in the North ? No man looks upon slavery with greater horror than I do, and if I could bene • fit the slaves—if I could do anything for their condition by at once making them a free people, I should be prepared, as far es my humble power goes, to confer liberty upon them. (Hear.) But we did that among a smaller body of black people in the "West Indies. We paid for them, and, as England always has behaved in such cases, we dealt liberally, not only by the slave, but by the slaveholder. (Hear, hear.) Can you do that in America ? You cannot. (A voice, " Yes, you can.") You say we can—but you know nothing about it. (Great laughter and cheers.) The millions of slaves in America would swallow up all the money in the North and in the South to buy their freedom. You cannot do it. But the connection between the slave holder and the slave is not so painful as many may imagine. They are kindly treated. I know they are not treated as I should like t be treated, because I am a free man. I have been brought up in freedom, I have fought for my own livelihood—they have not. They like their condition then, to this extent,—that when they become old they are not called upon to maintain themselves, and the slaveholder treats them—unfortunately, I must use the phrase —as I should treat my horse. (Oh, oh, and hear, hear.) I never overwork him if lam a wise mau. I lament that any human being should be in that condition, but they are in that condition—and, as statesmen, what are we to do I fear that for many years to come slavery must exist. You cannot get rid of it on a sudden. Time, patience, and the education of the black man, all must go hand in hand, and it will be the result of time, of education, of patience,which will drag them out of the condition in which they now are. (Hear, hear.) Now, I hate slavery as much as any man. Were any man to attempt to make me a slave I would fight him. (Loud cheers.) lam not a very strong man, but luckily the battle is not always to the strong, as we have seen between the North and South. (Hear, hear.) Well, then, have things come to the condition that England is called upon to act ? She has been throughout entirely neu tral, and what has been the result ? Language has been people, but by the Govern museendftoefheAr,mneortiema,ereinlysubly th ting e beyond description; and at last they have come to say, when describing themselves, " We are reduced to that condition that even England can bully us." I want to know how they have been brought into that condition ? By themselves. (Hear, hear.) Any thing more ruthless never was heard of in man's history. I met a gentleman the other day, he was a native of one of the seceded States, who told me that the Federal army had come over his property and burnt down his house—they didn't leave one stone upon the other; they took away his furniture, they stole his wife's garments, and they sent them to their own wives. (" Hear," and a voice, " Eng land's done it many a time.") More shame for us, that is all I can say. (Hear.) These things are going on from day to day. Every flail brings an account of horrors such as Napoleon himself never perpetrated. ("Hear," and ~a voice, " They haven't blown them from a cannon. ) We did that in India, and I don't think we did very well. Now, it is all very fine for Englishmen to turn up their eyes, and pretend to be so wonderfully good, (Laughter.) I want to know when the Peace Party opposed the annexation of Oude. I want to know when the Peace Party opposed those other annexations in India. I want to know whether the Punjab and Scinde have not all been acquired by force of arms ; and were we not very much astonished to see the perfect quietude of the Peace Party upon those occasions ? (" Hear, hear" and laughter.) Now, I am very much inclined to believe that, though the poor working man inLancashire has suffered dreadfully from the cotton famine, the masters in Manchester have not suffered to the same extent. (Hear, hear.) I can very easily under stand that when a man is happy, when he is making money easily, and enjoying all the fruits of the earth in consequence of this war--I say I can understand his objection to anything being done to put an end to it. But, while I feel for the working men of Lancashire, I feel for the sufferings of the people of America, and I want to put an end to this war. I say to England, " If you now step in and declare boldly what you think to be re quisite—namely, that the Southern States should be at once acknowledged as an independent nation." (Chering, and cries of " No, no," and a voice with great emphasis, " Never.") A working man who was stand ing near the steps became obstreperous, and was ignomini ously expelled by the police. (Mr. Roebuck continued) 7-- I am told that if we acknowledge the South we shall go to war with the North. I say I do not believe it. I say there is no person. no body of men, who so much desire England's interference in that war as the Northern States themselves. (Hear, hear.) I may state that very remarkable thing. We looked upon a war with America with horror because it would bring about a cotton famine. Well, we have no war with America ; but we have a cotton famine. The most curi ous thing is this. If we had war with America, we should at once put an end to the cotton famine. Now, that is a very peculiar circumstance. The South would then be an inde- pendent people; we should break the blockade at once— (hear, hear)—and we should have cotton in Manchester. (A stentorian voice.—" We can't.") But we should. (Cheers.) (Mr. S. Jackson--" We should have a civil war in Eng land ;" and interruption.) I want my arguments to be answered, not abuse. By our present proceedings not only have we alienated the North, but we shall alienate the South. France will step in, as she did in 1778. She will conciliate the Southern States of America, and we shall lose friends on both sides. ("How do you know this? We shall do right, and they will do wrong.") I do not pretend to judge my neighbour. I hope that I am a charitable man. I do not call men wh o h appen to differ from me rogues— I thi n k them very hon es t p eop l e ; I think them mistaken, becaus e of course eve r y man b e li eves hi mse lf t o be right, but I p ay them every po ss ibl e d e f e rence. I a m willing honestly to listen to them—patiently, courteously; I don't desire to in- te rrupt them. N ow , t h a t i s th e pos ition in which we stand. (Interruption.) You are so wonderfully impressed with the miseries of th e s l ave that you care not hi ng a bout my mis er y. (La ughter and ch eers. ) W e ll , t h en , w h a t is the reason why we should not do it ? First, they say, Englan d oug h t not to help slavery, I say so, too ; but we should not help slavery by acknowledging the South. (" Hear ," and " No.") Don't interr upt me. interrupted me. (« Tu rn him out," and a voice, "Don't ging laugh so much, Mr. Clegg.") I a m sure Mr. Clegg has not ("He's only an agitator.") Now, I have .. very little more to say; but I want to notice bile Of two arguments that have been brought against me. One le, that we should be benefitting slavery by acknowledging the South. I say, no ;we should not benefit slavery, but we should really benefit the slave. By doing anything to assist the North we may do away with slavery, but at the same time we should do away with the slave. And I must say that throughout the whole contest there has been a curious feeling on the part of gentlemen who support the Federal power. They have said, "We are not neutral, be cause wo have shown no sympathy for the North." Now, sympathy is not a part of neutrality ; and I at once acknow ledge that I have no sympathy with the North. (Hear, hear, and cheers.) I think my sympathies ought to go, as they do go, with the South. (Cheers.) They are a gallant people, fighting for their independence, and they have ob tained it. (Cheers and counter cheers.) The chance of suc cess on the part of the North is as a million to one. They never hope to conquer the South; but I will tell you what they hope for. There is a body of men in New York who thrive wonderfully upon the war. They have contracts, they have " greenbacks," they have every means of putting their hands into the public purse; they are gorged with wealth; and as long as this goes on they will wish the war to con tinue. But if you go into the agricultural districts of North America you would find things very different there. (Hear, hear.) There you would see sorrow for the war; there you would find husbands dragged to the war, you would find brothers wile there, killed, wounded, maimed, made mise rable for life. They know what the horror of the war is ; they have none of the advantages of the contractor in New York; they therefore wish to put an end to the war. And there is another class of men in North America which se hates England that anything that should continue to give her pain they would delight in ; and this arises from England's bad conduct. lam speaking of the banished Irish in Ame rica. The ill-conduct of England has driven thousands— nay, millions—from Ireland. They went from Ireland with their hearts burning against England, and they have given that feeling to their descendants; and the grea'er part of the abuse that has been showered upon England has come from banished Irishmen. I look with sorrow upon that. I cannot look with wonder, fer we have behaved ill to Ireland. That inevitable Nemesis that always follows the ill deeds of nations has followed us there, and we are now suffering for Iwhat our ancestors have done wrong to Ireland. But in our time good government has been taken to Ireland; there is good government there now, and we are endeavouring to wipe out the misdeeds of our ancestors. But having done that, having ulcerated the hearts of the banished Irish, we cannot hope—l have no hope that we shall ever attain that result—to make them forget that England has always been a step-mother to Ireland. (A voice, with E. rich Milesian brogue, " Aye, an' a cowld one too.") (Great laughter.) That being the case, I don't wonder at a great part of the abuse which has b en showered upon England, but still all that notwith standing, notwithstanding that the banished Irish, notwith standing that the contractors of New York, notwithstand ing that the ill-advised peace party here are all in favour of continuing this war,— I say, "No, and if England can move in such a way as to put an end to it, let her do so at once." (Cheers.) What do I ask this meeting to do ? Do I ask this meeting to dictate to Parliament ? No, All I wish you say is what you think. You must leave the management of the whole matter to Parliament. I don't want you to tell them what they are to do. They are in a condition to know much better than we what steps should be taken. I merely wish to tell them our opinion and leave them to deal with the matter for themselves. lam no part of this town ; I form no part of the Town Council here ; neither am I an inhabitant of Sheffield ; but I am your very faithful repre sentative. (Cheers, and a voice, "No.") I dare say lam not that gentleman's representative. Neither do I desire to be. (Cheers and laughter.) lam fully and fearlessly telling you what I think. Ido not wish anybody to obey me. I do not compel obedience ; I only use my intellect to, if I can, guide yours. You must guide your own intellect by the lights you have. I would wish to be one of those lights. You may think me—no doubt that gentleman does think me—a dark lamp, not a light. I can be no guide to him. Well, lam sorry for it. I think he would steer his course much better if he took me for his guide. (Cheers and laughter.) There is one other observation which I wish to make—for talking so loudly in my weak condition wearies me out. Though very well, lam very weak. That obser vation is this—you should consider upon the present occa sion that you are simply expressing an opinion. You don't wish to coerce or judge anybody except by the light of that opinion. You must leave Parliament, as I said, to judge for themselves. Ido not call upon you, I do not call upon anybody, to do the business which Parliament ought to do for itself. But I know that upon many occa sions petitions have been sent to Parliament. 'I hose peti tions have asked for particular legislative acts. Within the last few weeks I have had petitions sent to me upon matters in which Ido not agree with the petitioners. I have always presented the petitions; but I hope Parliament will act to the beat of its judgment, and I hope those petitions won't be acted upon. (Cheers and laughter,) But still Ido not complain that those gentlemen should petition; I think they are quite right to make their opinions heard. I cannot understand how this can be called a hole-and-corner meeting. (Hear, hear.) The world of Sheffield is invited to come here, and the world of Sheffield has come. How anybody who made up his mind,and who fully believes he is right, can say upon the present oecasion that he was taken by surprise, is what I cannot understand. How a man can be taken by surprise upon the American question is beyond my comprehension. For two years past England has been ringing with almost that and that alone. Opinions of all sorts have been advanced. If the people are ever to be instructed upon the question of America they are instructed now. Around me are many gentlemen on the other side, who have found their way here, and I cannot understand how they can complain of being taken by surprise. The very fact of their complaint shows there is no cause for it. Now, then, gentlemen, I have told you very frankly my opinions. I cannot reason out this question as I should desire in the immense area I have to address, but still dis tinctly I tell you I believe the time is come for an acknow ledgment of the independence of the South—(cheers)—that England, by so doing, will be carrying out the great mission she has to advance and protect mankind ; that if she do so she will benefit not only herself, but the world at large. Therefore I should advise you—if my advice be worth any thing, you will take it; if not, reject it—l should advise you to say that, in your opinion, the Confederate States of America should at once be acknowledged to be an indepen dent nation. (Loud cheers). The Rev. J. P. Horns moved the following resolution : " That in the opinion of this meeting the Government of this country would act wisely, both for the interests of England and those of the world, were they immediately to enter into negotiations with the great Powers of Europe, for the purpose of obtaining the acknowledgment by them of the independence of the Confederate States of North America." The motion was seconded by Mr. MICHAEL BEAL. The Rev. J. GUTTRIDGE (Wesleyan Free Church) moved the following amendment : ° That this meeting records its high admiration of the honourable neutrality hitherto maintained by the Govern ment in relation to the dreadful civil war now raging on the American Continent, and earnestly hopes that the same policy of non-intervention will be pursued in future." Mr. W. J. CLEGG seconded the amendment. Mr. Hopps's resolution was carried by an overwhelming majority. RAILWAY INTELLIGENCE. EASTERN BENGAL. The directors of this company in their report con gratulate the shareholders on the satisfactory corn pletion of the whole line from Calcutta to Koosh tee ; and on the success, as a commercial under taking, which has since attended the working of both the goods and passenger traffic. The works were commenced on the 14th of April, 1859, and the last portion of the land, tlirLe miles in length, was delivered to the company in the commencement of 1860. On Sept. 29, 1862, 45 miles of the line, from Calcutta to RLannghat, were opened for passenger traffic only. On Nov. 15 following the whole line of 110 miles, from Calcutta to Kooshtee, on the Ganges, was opened throughout for general traffic. The Government of Bengal have expressed their approval of the manner in which the officers of the engineering staff of the company and the agent of the contractors have performed their several duties. The Government of India, in a public despatch, re ferring to Mr. Burdon, the chief engineer of the company, acknowledges "the services he bas ren dered to the country by the skill with which he has laid out and directed the works of the Eastern Ben gal Railway, "while at the same time Messrs. Les - lie, Prestage, and Granville, engineers under him, are assured " that the Government of India is fully sensible of their meritorious services ;" and Mr. Henfrey, agent of the contractors, Messrs. Brassey, Paxton and Wythes, is informed " that his success ful prosecution of an undertaking of such magnitude as this railway, under circumstances eo novel to English contractors, entitles him to the hearty approval and congratulations of the Government." The gross traffic receipts from the 16th of Novem ber last, when the whole line was opened, to the end of the year (five weeks) amounted for passen gers to 46,682 rupees, and for merchandise to 10,204 rupees ; together, 66,976 rupees. The re ceipts from the end of the year to the 11th of April last (15 weeks) amounted for passengers to 136,401 rupees, and for merchandise to 50,649 rupees ; to gether, 187,050 rupees. The maintenance of the way and works up to the month of November next will be borne by the contractors. The directors state that they have every reason to expect a very large traffic at Kooshtee, through the resort of the steamers to that p or t i ns t ea d o f C a l cu tt a . The_eapi tal account s h ows a t o t a l expen di ture o f £:,285,727, leaving a balance of £114,272. THE SUN, LONDON, WEDNESDAY EVENING, MAY 27, 1363, ours thick upon them to receive the gratitude of the happy and exultant nation. But under the guise of rejoicing was the skeleton of sadness. The regiments that went out 1,000 or 1,200 strong re turn bronzed, weather-beaten, and hardy, but num bering scarcely more than 200 or 250, all the re mainder having perished in the shock of arms, or in the more deadly perils of the swamp and the hos pital. The return of one regiment, the Duryea Zouaves,' was particularly noteworthy. The men took part, under General Hooker, in the deadly struggle of Saturday, the 2d of May, at Chancel lorsville. Their time expired on the 3d of May, and they insisted on going home, even though Hooker's army required at the time every man who could be made available. There was no means to retain them in the service. They had fulfilled their contract, and they called upon the Government to do the same. Transportation was therefore pro vided for them, and the "heroes" left the battle field while the bloody fight was still raging, and arrived in New York to receive the plaudits of their admiring countrymen —none of whom seemed to think it strange that the heroism had not been stretched a little, so as to have included within the sphere of its display the second as well as the first day of Chancellorsville. It is a crime in the eyes of the Lincol❑ Administration to discourage enlist ments. It may be asked whether all these " heroes" are not virtually among the strongest discouragers it is possible to find—and whether their strictly legal—but, under the circumstances, somewhat cowardly abandonment of their countrymen on the field of battle was not a worse crime against the safety of the Republic than Mr. Vallandigham's " treason," even though Mr. Vallandigham had had ten thousand tongues, instead of but one. SPIRIT• OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS. - - POST.—We don't intend to discuss any questions of form or procedure WMth may be pending before any of the American prize tribunals which are now adjucating upon British ships. To understand, however, even the nature of the proceedings, it is necessary to bear in mind one clearly settled and indisputable principle of international law, without attending to which it is impossible even to judge of the meaning of the accounts which occasionally reach us of incidental decisions in the progress of the pending suits. The principle to which we refer is this. When a vessel is seized on the ground of her illegal destination, the case must in the first in stance be determined by an examination of the ship's papers, and by the evidence of her master and crew. If nothing can be found in these to create suspicion, no further evidence can be received, and the owners of the ships are entitled to an absolute judgment in their favour, with damages for the detention of the ship. This rule, we need scarcely say, is one entirely peculiar to the maritime tribu nals. Iu all other courts of justice, when a question arises as to any fact, either side are at liberty to prove that fact by any legal evidence which they can adduce. But, in the care of seizure, the maritime courts have laid down a positive rule of law that no evidence can be adduced to support the capture unless there appears cause for it in the evidence coming from the ship itself. It is of some import ance clearly to explain the mode of proceeding. The Peterhof' has been seized on an allegation that her real destination was one of the blockaded ports. On this allegation she is carried into an American port, and submitted to the adjudication of an American prize tribunal. Her captors have a right to seize the ship's papers. If it appear by these papers that she is bound for a blockaded port, the evidence against her is complete ; but if her papers are all regular, showing that she had cleared for a neutral port, there is still another mode of inquiry per mitted to her captors. In the American port to which she is brought there are Admiralty agents who have power to examine on oath her master and her crew. Their depositions are taken down in writing, and sent, with the ship's papers, to the admiralty court which is to decide on the va lidity of the capture. On these materials, and on these materials alone, the cause must be heard. If the papers be regular, and the answers of the master and crew be clear and distinct, showing that she was bound to a neutral port, the court has no power to enter on any further inquiry. The captors might have it in their power to produce a hundred wit nesses who would swear that captain and crew and owners have all told them that she was really bound to Charleston; they might be prepared to show that passengers had been taken on board to be conveyed there ; not one word of this evidence could be received ; the ship must be judged upon the ma terials before the court—that is, upon the papers and the depositions—and unless something can be found in them to impeach the bona fides of her pro ceedings, the ship must be instantly discharged. If, indeed, there is on the papers and depositions so much ambiguity as to leave the legality of the voyage in doubt, then the courts are in the habit of permitting the owners to adduce extrinsic evidence to clear this up. The captors have even in some very rare and exceptional instances been allowed to adduce evidence on their side. But the rule is perfectly established that, if nothing appears on the papers and depositions to justify the seizure, the owners are entitled to a return of their vessel, and no evidence can be heardi to condemn it. This peculiarity of maritime procedure is of course per fectly familiar to all who are acquainted with mari time law. The rule was stated by Lord Stowell with his usual clearness in the case of an Americ a n ship, the Fortuna, tried before him in 1811. " The captor," he said, " is not called on at the commence ment of the suit to state the particular grounds on which he contends that the vessel is a lawful prize. He has a right to institute the inquiry, and to take his chance of the benefit of auy fact that may be produced in the result of that inquiry. This is a great advantage on the side of the captor, but lit is controlled by his liability to costs and damages if the inquiry produces nothing, and it is fully balanced by the advantage given to the claimant in this species of proceeding that no evidence shall be admitted against him but such as proceeds from himself and from his own witnesses, the captor not being permitted, except in cases marked by pecu liar circumstances, to furnish any evidence what ever." The greatest of American jurists, Judge Story, in his work upon prize courts, lays down the same rule. "It is upon the ship's papers and de positions thus returned that the cause is in the first instance to be heard and tried. This is not a mere matter of form ; it is of the very essence of the ad ministration of prize law." To multiply authorities is unnecessary, and would far exceed the ,limits of an article. Those who wish to pursue the subject for themselves will find it duly discussed in the note of Judge Story, in his " Principles and Prac tice of Prize Courts." In the same volume will be found a document of the very highest authority, and written under circumstances which invest it with a peculiar interest. In 1794 Mr. Jay, the American Minister, applied to Lord Stowell, then Sir W. Scott, and Dr. Nicholl, to supply him with a statement as to the general principles regulating the practice of the British prize courts. In reply they were able to transmit to him a report made to George 11. in 1753, by Sir George Lee, then Judge of the Prerogative Court, Dr. Paul, his Msj . esty's Advocate-General, Sir Dudley Rider, his Majesty's Attorney-General, and Mr. Murray, afterwards Lord Mansfield, his Solicitor-General. In this re port the rule is thus stated—" The evidence to acquit or condemn, with or without costs or da mages, must, in the first instance, come merely from the ship taken—" viz., the papers on board, and the examination on oath of the master and other principal officers—for which purpose there are officers of admiralty in all the considerable sea ports of every maritime Power at war, to examine the captains and other principal officers of every ship brought in as a prize, upon general and im partial interrogatories. If there do not appear from thence ground to condemn an enemy's pro perty, or contraband goods going to the enemy, there must be an acquittal, unless from the evidence aforesaid, the property shall appear so doubtful that it is reasonable to go into further proof thereof. • • In this method," concludes the report, by courts of admiralty acting according to the laws of nations and particular treaties, all captures at sea have been immemoriably judged in every country in Europe. Any other mode of trial would be manifestly unjust, absurd, and impracticable." Tl➢iES.—lt has been taid, with too much truth, that in this country the non-performance of public duties is often more profitable than their perform • ance. We compensate more handsomely than we remunerate, and grant retiring pensions out of all proportion to the salaries which we think adequate tor the highest services. It was shown the other day by one of our correspondents that a gentleman who for many years filled an important office at the Admiralty was a positive gair-ler by being invalided, and enjoys, or will shortly enjoy, a much larger in come as a non-effective than he ever had while he was in active employment. Much in the same way it may be possible that a military drifter retiring from his regiment may leave his family in a much better position than one who is killed in action. The widow of the latter, it is true, is entitled to a slender annuity for life, and his children receive small sums annually till they come of age, but it is seldom indeed that these allowances represent the bare interest on the money actually sunk. The hardship arising from such a case is peculiarly felt where the rank or command held by the deceased officer was conferred on him as the reward, and the only substantial reward, for signal merits. In this instance the gratitude of the country, being limited to the lifetime of its object, may be entirely defeated by his early death. Hereditary distinctions, such as peerages and baronetcies, are not liable to be thus extinguished if the first bearer leave any male issue, but the nation is rarely backward to accom pany such honours with the means of keeping them up. It is otherwi6e where the recognition of brilliant achievements comes in the form of knight hood or promotion. The title, of course, does not descend, and, unless the officer live long enough to make provision for his family out of his increased income, they take no permanent benefit by the ac cession of personal dignity. If he should die in the following year, for instance, they wilt have reason to regret that he had not sold out before the oppor tunity of rendering conspicuous service to his coun try ever arose. These reflections are forced upon us with peculiar cogency by an individual instance of just such a miscarriage. Short as memories are in this generation, the defence of Lucknow is never men tioned or remembered without a thrill of national pride. It was the greatest deed of a war which was remarkable for great deeds of heroism, and it was the cause of other great deeds the lustre of which has somewhat obscured that of the defence itself. Had Lucknow not held out as it did, there would have been no occasion for Havelock's victo ries, and the relief of it by Lord Clyde could never have become a part of history. That it did so hold out, and that constancy and discipline were main tained unbroken among its defenders, is admitted on all hands to have been mainly due to Sir John Inglis. Ample justice was done from the first by the Governor-General and the Home Government, no less than by the public, to his "enduring forti tude and persevering gallantry ;" but we believe that the military profession alone can fully appre ciate the skill and resources manifested in those three eventful mouths of the siege. For this splen did piece of service Colonel Inglis, as he then was, was raised to the rank of Major-General, and made a Knight Commander of the Bath. It is with no wish to provoke invidious comparisons, but solely in In order to show how different is the pecuniary value of such promotion and of the recompenao' sometimes given to heroes, that we here quote the precedents of Williams and Havelock. Sir Wil liam Williams's defence of Kars was a feat in roani respects similar to Sir John Inglis's defence a Lucknow, though it must be recorded, in fairness' to the latter, that it was not equally successful'; yet certainly no one felt that the hero of it was over-rewarded by a baronetcy with a pension of £l,OOO a year attached to it. The command of the garrison of Woolwich and the command of the troops in Canada were additional marks of 1 4 :e . Majesty's favour. ,To the widow and son of So' Henry Havelock, who can hardly be said to hay° i relieved Lucknow, though tha name of that city s appended tothe baronetcy were awarded respectively similar pensions of £l,OOO a year, amid the applause of the whole nation, We are far from saying that the inferior honours bestowed on Sir John Inglis were a shabby requittal of his deserts, but we wish:to point out that they were inferior, and not only inferior, but—what is of greater importance—far more pre carious. Having been made a Major-General he was afterwards appointed to the command in Corfu. Had he lived he might here, perhaps, have saved a considerable sum in the course of time, but his health wis shattered by bis Indian service, and be unhappily died of an lonian fever a few months ago, leaving a widow and five children, to whom a sixth was added but a week since. The worth of his , commission having been lost by the very fact of his promotion, a share of prize money amounting to less than £2OO, a widow's pension of £l4O a year, and an allotment of £25 each for all the children. so long as they are under age, is all the acknow ledgment that remains to the representatives of man to whom our :Indian Empire owes so much. Now, the question is not whether this does not pain our feelings, but, simply whether this is right- There are many Wave men who have fallen in their country's service after exertions not less heroic , though more humble, than those of Sir John Inglis , and whose widows may have at least an tgaal claim on the score of compassion to the national bounty. When we select this as an exceptional case. demanding the attention of the Government , we do not speak of compassion but of equity. , Unless it can be shown that Sir John has never re ceived what he had a right to expect, and what the English nation, from the Queen downwards, tended to give him, we should be ashamed to plead on behalf of Lady Inglis. We regara this as a re markable example of the injustice which the systele of rewarding public benefactors by offices tenable for life may occasionally work. Where it does wort such injustice it is surely the part of the Govern' went, and, if necessary, of the Legislature, to step in and redress the hardship which would otherwise be suffered. All that is required, or could propel be asked, is that the widow of Sir John 'nee should be placed in the same position which would have been unanimously and most cheerfully eon: ceded to her if her husband's premature death collie have been foreseen. COUNTRY MARKETS. ...1 1 . LIVERPOOL—TUESDAY. At our market to-day there was a fair attendance ° f millers and dealers, and an improved demand experience d t for wheat at generally the full prices of this day w ek, bu Id to 2d per 100113 more money for good winter red A ll ot can. Four more inquired for, but not dearer. Oats an meal, with a slow sale, barely maintained Friday's p!io° B ' Barley and peas as before. Egyptian beans were easier 0 buy. Indian corn was rather neglected, MARKET HARBOROUGH—TUESDAY. White wheat, 48s to sis ; red, 43s to 46s per 36 stone* Maltin barley :at 37s to --s'er qr. ; grinding, 30s to 321 per 30 at. Oats, old, 26s to 295; new, 22s to 25s per st. ; beans, 34s te_39s per qr. BRISTOL—TuEsDA.T. The transactions in the corn market here to-day O rs purely nominal, and call for no report. SHEFFIELD—TUESDAY. r il oa Red wheat, per lead of 3 imperial bushels...lss Od to +, - ,oa White Jt , f , ...20s Od to P° ob New red... 178 Od to 185 0 a New white „ 1/ ...18s Od to i n 9 ,, ° 0d Beans ...15s Od to ir oa/, » Peas, per qr 4ss Od to 5°, 8 , 04 Grinding barley, per qr Malting ditto, „ 34s Od to .)°„' 0 4 1/ Oats 2ls Od to 20 3 Flour, is 7d to 2s 2d per stone. . t There bas been a LE fai EDS—TUESDAY business done in wheat, at it-°eur last week's prices. In some instances for fine reds forlit prices were exceeded. Beans firm. No other change' NEWCASTLE—MONDAY. A s ale A moderate show of wheat on offer to-day, a n d were made at a slight advance on last week's rate s. Tra I healthy. A small show of oats. N o m alting barley, al l t a moderate quantity of grin d ing so rts, with late quotations. a steady ale a ' Old white wheat..s7s to 61s Old red wheat, ... 53s to 664 New do. ..48 a t o 53 8 , New do, ..42s to 49 4 Malting barley....37a t o to 46 Grinding d0.....29s to 32s I Beans .......... 37s 42s I Oats ............. 22s to 32: MELTON MOWBRAY—TUESDAY. wheat, The following were the currencies :—New white 000 r 47s Od to 52s Od ; new red, 42s Od to 48 s per 310 386 t. beans, 36s to 43s for old; new sorts, 34s to 39s per nr , for barley, 32s to 35sifor malting, and 28s to 31s per grinding; oats, 2Os to 30s Od per 24 stone. Foreign Mail Packet List. MAILS UE. . Australia and Mauritius, via Sou th ampton. .. J un n -p2 IS . via Marseilles June 4. Jrazil and Cape Verds, by British packet. Jun e o, Cape of Good Hope, Ascension, and St. Helena Mil China, Penang, and Singapore, via Southampton Jn ne 2s, via Marseilles .. •AlaY 4„ Falkland Islands June,, 2 Gibraltar, via Southampton Jun e l '' -, n India (Calcutta), and Ceylon, vi a South a mpton 1 --- :0, via Marseilles.. • l N l al 10. India (Bombay), via Southampton Juno via Marseilles . Jun° 5. 00000000 ~ P0rtuga1.......... .... ‘,. .. Malta, Egypt, and Aden, via Southampton June „I s. I\lo' `,/ via Marseilles MO 2 ' . Newfoundland Oportoand British N. America, by Brit. packet... • ~ .-ad by U.S. packet...• by Canadian packet.MaYe ~,_ W.C. of Africa, Madeira, and Teneriffe .......... Jun r Juno.- Bahamas, via New York Mexico .. All parts of West Indies, including Chili, Peru, I M a y 29. California. and British Columbia. ........... ) THE AMERICAN BLOCKADE ,— The Maja , of Older enburg, Henssen, from Matamores for Liverpo°l4 was taken into Key West as a prize, but, on examinati oo her papers, was immediately released, and proceeded. t e ri , ntunbuco, May I—The Commonwealth (ship) o f 13° 9 : 01 , 1,245 tons, for San Francisco, with a general cargo, 1 1 ° 6 i e burnt by the Confederate steamer Florida. The .A. l° ',: i r is reported to have passed this port on the 29th ult., f ing southward. Key West, April 27—On the w orni 9 c b ° to the 24th inst., while the United States' steamer P° was cruising in Mobile Bay, the following schooners sc_di captured :—The General Prim, the Rapid, the Brightt v o f the Jane Adelia, all of them having run the blockad°oo Mobile the previous night. Their cargoes c 3 ns is t o f cott lio and turpentine, and were bound to Havannah. On to , 26th the British schooner Clara, from H avannali for lkit'ej, mores, via Mobile, with a valuable cargo , was eap ttir They have all arrived at this port. Ar (ADVERTISEMENT.)• —Holloway's Pills,--Declin e ge rested.—No more lamentable sight presents itself than t ya daily sinking of the young through consumption. A., t , ifx very outset of this disease, the pills are most e ffectWf purifying the blood, preventing its stagnation in the and removing the hacking cough. Holloway's ping w l be taken on the first warning ofconstitutional deliertcl,Hl re" invigorating properties will soon re-establi s h tons the gularity throughout the system ' • they will incir l 'ious 6 appetite, amend the digestion, regulate the liver, Ow the kidneys and bowels to natural and salubrious todig Holloway's pills have rescued many confirmed 01 4 whose energies seem to fail them just when strength s— , be' have been greatest, and who but for these would W iy come weaker and worse. Births. C ll3B. Fox.—On the 24th inst., at Stoke Newington, DI r s ' Fox, of a son. • fo of HILLS.—On the 24th inst., at Littlehampton, the 11 101 1 ' Edward H. Hills, Esq, R.N., her Majesty's shiP non, of a son. a g N ICH OLS,—On the 25th inst,, at Red-hill, the sv"" Nichols, Esq., of a son. Marriages. d01: 1 0 BRODITURST—.GREG.—On th e 26th inst , at IVira :st ie re et ' Bernard Edward Brodhursf, Esq., of Grosvo i A r villiO tt Grosvenor-square, to Edith, only dauo•hter e' _cora' Rarbbone Greg, Esq., of Park lodge, Wirrible d°l3 MOM pad SHAW—RiroDEs.--On the 23d inst.. at St. john' - r ' s ,A.o l3, widow of C t a t p e ta la in te J j . a C in . e S s h ß aw h , o o d t es L , iv.jeurnp.o, ollt8(()1.1:101 water. L -E .1 'eve' id—es:hi:l' BARNETI.—On the 22d a ft4 2, Dinsetats. S w oo. Bu lnv lt eae N rs : very suddenly, Miss Ali " 57. Alice Barnett, late of ,_, ~e r sal, mh t o h , m e Ka 2 es 4 n t ß h t,u i a n rgn s c t ,ld . e , y7 a ,3 t a d Pollard6 Hall' CRITTALL.—On the 26th ; t M Crittall, SV 3II Il'il' _ns ~ r. shire, aged of 6s l . l - • rye vIL 1 ' Go G o o D o l d v ‘ t v N i 1 . 1 — , 0n the 24th inst., at Malvern, the ijerbY" g/ °(/'' LONG.—On the 23d inst, at Claphara,:Thotnas Lon inchleywood House, A.shbourn, formerly of Fenchurch-street, aged 81. iz Itic kgrOhif RICKARDS —On the 24th inst., at Croydon, ---• Esq., aged 84. , S ti rrer , SHERGOLD.—On the 25th inst,, at East Sheen Samuel Shergold, Esq., aged 84. , e C:000' London : Printed and Pub lished b y WILLIAM 2, . so , 11 2 . of No. 112, Strand Precinct, Printer, at HS" inth v ° tfi r , o unti e t Strand, i n the of the T ga E voy , Middlesex.--Wednesday,Play 27, 1803.