The Sun. — London, England, 1844-07-01 00:00:00

Song, Herr Staudigl, " Rage, thou angry Storm "—Be nedict. Romanza, Signor Lorenzo Salvi," Cielpietoso "—Verdi. Solo, Violin, Signor Camillo Sivori—Sivori. PART 11. nnet, The Misses Williams, " La piu pura "—Gabussi. Ballad, Miss Dalby, ‘• By the sad sea waves "—Benedict. New Song. Mis- E. Lucomhe, " I remember"—Louis Leo. Fantasia, Grand Pianoforte. M. LeOpold do Meyer, "Le Carnaval de Venise"—Mever. „,Son?:. Mr. W. 11. S egu i n , " N on pi u an d ra i —M oza rt. '"do Busse, Coneertina, Signor Giulio Regondi—De Beriot. Duet, Miss Emma Lucornbe and Miss Dolby, " We come to thee. Savoy"—C. W. Glover. 'ag, Mrs. W. H. Seguin, " Sareet Fairy Bells," (Con certina Obligato, Signor Giulio Regondi)—L.Emanuel. Il i; The Misses Williams, " Two merry Gipsies"— Maefarren. Conductor—M. Benedict. The opening duet by Handel Gear and Staudigl was much applauded, as was Staudigrs magnificent song. " Rag e thou angry :storm." Ransford's new song, " The L aure l Tree, is a very effective composition, and will no doubt become popular. The cavatina from ; Ida dell a Torre" was given with exquisite taste by 4(14 /ne Castellan, and the romanza, " Ciel Pietoso" was , I ven with a ll th at d ramat i c power an d ex p ress iveness Which Sal vi so well knows how to infuse into everything he ° mg& This bf-autiful romanza is the composition of Verdi creYount.' composer, whose opera, " I Lombardi," has ated' a perfect furore throughout all Italy.. This romanza' is an exquisitely expressive composition, a nd makes us long to hear more of the works - of the s d a rne nvestro. Camillo Sivori gave us his "Carnaval V eni'e," as he alone of all violinists, past or present, " c a, ll Five it. Th e execut i on o f M eyer in hi s t wo grind Ftano forte fantasias was truly wonderful, and elicited the r:„„, arty applause of the artistes by which he was sur well as that of his audience. The concert C`'nflucted by Benedict, whose ballad " The Sad Sea A"" " was beautifully given by Miss Dolby, who, 4 jaa Emma Luconsbe, was also much and justly aPPlauded in Glover's duet, We come to thee, Savoy. ' A mil itary band which was stationed on the grounds performed, during the intervals of the concert, several Popular overtures, marches, and dances. The arrage ments of the te . e were admirable, and we hope the funds of the society have benefited materially by it. SPORTING INTELLIGENCE. NEWCASTLE RACES—Fran/kir. The Innkeepers' Plate, by subscription of 3 guineas each, p.p., with a sum added to make up 50/. ; the second to save his stake. Heats, one mile. Mr.„.. Lamb's Lady Flora, 6 yrs (F ranc i s ) 6 1 1 Mr. Dawson's Geneva, 3 yrs 1 5 2 Mr. T. Walker's The Nobbler, 3 yrs Mr. .Allan's The Wasp, 5 yrs eaPt• noyd's Lara, 6 yrs Mr. Dawson's Bonnets o' 81ue.... 2 3 dr The Scurry Stakes of 2 sons. each, h. ft., with a Whip added. Gentlemen riders. Heats, T.Y.C. l ir : L a,..lnb'l3 Sambo Sutton, aged (Mr. R. Johnson) 0 1 1 1 0 2 u r; raon's Wee Willie, aged k r : L :binson's Queen of Hearts, 4 yrs 0 0 3 k r. , mbert's Ellen, aged • tialmbra's Delirious, 3 yrs ...... mi. l -or . d t y_ ... 0 0 dr B Bess 5 yrs ullamore rown . , V.: :.!•_ngerson' s Charlotte, 5 yrs 0 0 dr ii` r • w. Brown's Jim Crow, aged 0 0 dr • H enry's Middleham, aged The Gold CuLUDLOW RACES.--THURSDAY. Stakes of 10 sovs. each, with 20 added. Twice round. Hall's Brilliant, 3 yrs (Griffiths) 1 P p nglez's Humility, 6 Yrs Broke down. e ' l ° ear Old Stakes of 15 sous. each, with 30 added. T.Y.C. Mr n_ fir.,,,ugley' s Mystery . (Sly) 1 V. 'V alter' s My Ma r y ••• R• D. G oup ' s T he Brit i s h G rena di er e 13orough Stakes of 5 sovs. each, with 20 added. Heats lir. o n , once round. lit g'ers Queen of the Gipsies, 4 yrs ...(Sly) 1 1 •kr._ Ackers n ame d bf b y Tenbury, 3 yrs :ilf• Bout's The Rhi ne , 4 yrs uh Shropshire Handicap of 10 sovs. each, with 20 -m le:d; the se con d save d hi s stake. Heats o nc e roundand lir a ' r - Ir . ( 9 Subs.) Ar; t• Herbert's Tariff, 5 yrs ...(Whitehouse) 5 1 1 If,: ~.,.c lintuff's The Exciseman, 4 yrs 1 0 2 • ,irva 7 VI 2 3 3 k r. , siey 8 Varna,. 6 yrs .. •• •• Ai r. k i-- ° o ll g , h ' a Aimwell, aged • Fr ee T yPe B ehg by Mazeppa, 5 yrs 4-landicap of 50 soya. each, with 30 added. Once Mr. 0 , round. kr. ii n gt,eY'S Queen of the Gipsies, 4 yrs (Sly) 1 air. o,, w klins's Nix my Dolly, 5 yrs kr. D u gui ' s Fausta, 6 yrs ..: un tot 4 r A '8 Countess of Lichfield, 4 -1.8 o no .,;`" , 2 TEST BETTING AT MANCHESTER. VI 1 --/vu ob STAKEB.-11 to 1 agst Red-deer (taken), 13 tr„., a g st The Era, 18 to 1 agst Franchise, 20 to 1 agst Can -4 4 1 ) to 1 agst Gunter. er,,j•TooDIVOOD Cur.-5 to 2 agst Alice Ha w th o r n , Bt o 1 agst 'Le Squire. 1 31. • LEGErt.--4 to 1 agst The Cure, 6 to 1 agst Princess, b . " 0 . 1 apt Ithuriel, 7 t o 1 ags t Th e Ugly Buck, 12 to 1 agst 44 e01-deer (taken). Very little done. AQUATICS AT ETON COLLEGE. • very interesting trial of skill, which excited considerable Place amongst the amateurs of Windsor and Eton, took " i ce t _ upon the Thames on Thursday evening, between the 4 a o wer Sixes" of Eton College ; the distance, about three chiles, being from Windsor-bridge to the Rushes and back. Theert" boats which started (the Dreadnought and the The ) were thus manned : Al e ureednought—Miles, stroke oar ; Fitzgerald, Nash zhander, Balguy, Mosely, Lawford, mi. coxswain.T e Thetis —Burton, stroke oar; Winter, Boileau, Suther i;`,,_ F redericks, Shipton, Mr. De Ros; coxswain. allowedis ' was a considerable deal of bumping (a system which L ow in matches of this description at Eton), from the 1 1 ,,, i ' e r Rope up to the Rushes ; in rounding which the Dread tw-eght took the lead and kept it, winning the match by about of Ivboats' lengths. A great number of the principal families the incisor and Eton were present in the Borras to witness start and the finish. MAGAZINE DAY. BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE. In a closely reasoned essay on the " Causes of the Increase of Crime," which leads off the present Num ber, the author states that the habit of strikes, which of late years has been so frequent among operatives, has been one of the principal causes of the alarming spread of vice, observing that the effects of these strikes invariably appear for a course of years after wards in the increased roll of criminal commitments, and the number of young persons of both sexes, who, loosened by these protracted periods of idleness, never afterwards regain habits of regularity and industry." Another cause, he tells us, may be found in the cus tom, so prevalent in the manufacturing districts, of parents sending out their children at the earliest pos sible period into the factories, who " thus come to be looked on not as objects of affection but as instruments of gain ; in fact, the children are, practically speak ing, sold for slaves, and the sellers are their own parents Unbounded is the demoralization produced by this monstrus perversion of the first principles of nature." This is a sad state of things, but it will baffle, we fear, the ingenuity and wisdom of our most enlightened statesmen to find a remedy for it. We must take the evil with the good; if we will insist on being the first manufacturing country in the world, we must put up with the vices that the manufactur ing system engenders. The " Heart of the Bruce" is a spirited ballad, penned in imitation of one of the Percy Relics. " Memorandums of a Month's Tour in Sicily," skims the surface of things in a very light, readable manner. Tne tourist is an inveterate John Bull in his predilections, for . he actually prefers our English fruits to those mellow and delicious does which ripen beneath Sicilian skies, and along the shores of the Mediterannean ! His passing description of a visit which he paid to the ruins of the Temple of Segeste, breathes a glowing spirit of classical enthusiasm such as would have warmed the heart of Eustace. Of the general character of the Sicilians he speaks with marked contempt, and is by .no means enamoured of the great, healthy, hungry fleas and bugs—which, it appears, are in season all the'year round—that bivouac in the beds of thee? establishments. " Poems and Ballads of Goethe" contain translations, executed with evident pains taking of some of the minor lyrics of this great Ger man poet. In the present chapters of " Marston, or the Memoirs of a Statesman" we find the hero once again landed in England, after his perilous adventures among the French Republicans, and seated as a visitor in the House of Commons in the hope of hearing Pitt rise and defend the warlike, anti-Gallic policy of the Cabinet. The description of the mannerand appearance of this minister's great rival Fox, as he walked up the house and took his usual seat on the front bench of the Opposition,is very adroitly introduced, and reads just like an extract from Wraxall's Memoirs. The " Week of an Emperor" is a record of the daily pro ceedings of the Czar during his recent visit to the me tropolis, and is happily adapted to the lounging tastes of magazine readers. There is some ingeni ous speculation, bordering in places on the fantastic, in the article headed "Traditions of Fairy Tales of Upper Lusatia ;" but, as a whole, it is heavy, and even were it not so, still the subject is one at variance with the tastes of this incredulous matter-of-fact age —the age that seems to have faith in nothing but the steam-engine, the spinning-jenny, and the infallibility of that most fallible of statesman, Sir Robert Peel. It is nearly two centuries since Bishop Corbett, in one of the most delightful little poems of the day, lamented the decline of the popular oelief in fairies ; and if his lamentation was well-founded then, what must it be now ? From the article on " Portugal," which com prises a short biographt Id sketch of the celebrated blarquis of Pombal, we quote a description of the great earthquake at Lisbon, which took place, it may be_remembered, during the administration of that en lightened statesman " On the morning of All-Saints' day, the Ist of No vember, 1755, Lisbon was almost torn up from the faun • lations by the most terrible earthquake on European re cord. As it was a high Romish festival, the population were crowding to the churches, which were lighted up in honour of the day. About a quarter before ten the first shock was felt, which lasted the extraordinary length of ,ix or seven minutes • then followed an interval of about Five minutes, after which the shock was renewed. la.ting about three minutes. The concussions were so violent in both instances that nearly all the solid buildings were lashed to the ground, and the principal part of the city almost wholly ruined. The terror of the population, rushing through the falling streets, gathered in the churches, or madly attempting to escape into the fields, may be imagined ; but the whole scene of horror, death, and ruin, exceeds all description. The ground split into chasms, into which the people were plunged in their ,right. Crowds fled to the water ; but the Tagus, agi tated like the land, suddenly rose to an extraordinary height, burst upon the land, and swept away all within its reach. It was said to have. risen to the height of five and-twenty or thirty feet above its usual level, and to have'sunk again as much below it. And this phenome non occurred four times. "The dispatch from the British Consul stated, that the especial force of the earthquake seemed to be directly under the city ; for while Lisbon WAS lifted from the ground, as if by the explosion of a gunpowder mine, the damage either above or below was not so considerable, One of the principal quays, to which it was said that many people had crowded for safety, was plunged under the Tagus, and totally disappeared. Ship s w ere carr i e d down by the shock on the river, dashed to pieces against each other, or flung upon the shore. To complete the catastrophe, fires broke out in the ruins, which spread over the face of the city, burned for five or six days, and reduced all the goods and property of the people to ashes. For forty days the shocks continued with more or less violence, but they had now nothing left to destroy. The 'people were thus kept in a constant state of alarm, and forced to encamp in the open fields, though it was now winter. The Royal Family were encamped in the gar dens of the palace ; and, as if all the elements of society had been shaken together, Lisbon and its vicinity became the place of g4thering for banditti from all quarters in the kingdom. A number of Spanish deserters made their way to the city, and robberies and murders of the most desperate kind were constantly perpetrated. " During this awful period, the whole weight of go vernment fell upon the shoulders of the Minister ; and he bore it well. He adopted the most active measures for provisioning the city. for repressing plunder and vio lence, and for enabling the population to support them selves during this period of suff Ttng. It was calculated that seven millions sterling could scarcely repair the da mage of the city ; and that no less than eighty thousand lives had been lost, either crushed by the earth or swal lowed up by the waters. Some conception of the native mortality may be formed from that of the English : of the comparatively small number of whom, resident at that time in LiNb rn, no less that twenty-eight men and fifty women were among the sufferers. The Royal Fa mily were at the palace of Beim when this tremendous .Itlamity occurred. Pomba!' instantly hastened there. He found every ole in constern ition. What is to be done,' exclaimed the King; as he:entered, to meet this infliction of Divine justice ?"Fhe calm and re olute answer of Pombal was—' Bury the deal, and feed the living.' This sentence is still recorded with honour in the memory of Portugal.' WRESTLING. Corn e annual gathering of the wrestlers of Devon and ~,,,e(nmenced on Monday last at Chalk Farm, and term fien"°,l late on Thursday night, after three days' play, the ine ea t Perhaps ever witnessed. • The liberality of the noble of :I l a n , ' gentlemen of Cornwall and Devon, and other pa• cons eel b e an" had enabled the Committee to procure the most ties, rated wrestlers from distant parts of the respective coun resi„aell.aist to give prizes suburbto attract the " crack" men 41 ' in the metropolis and an districts to enter the sea g e , ec innetition. The Committee bad anticipated the pre e or the famous Devonshire champion, Abraham Cann, as ‘rYer " Ine et • ' and which certainly would have given eclat to the Ing, but the l t event veteran, by the pressure of business, was Were v ,„ ed ,. from attending. The arrangements, however, complete, and everything passed off in the most unp . r —a l"' manner, the only damper to the sports being the da?pitious state of the weather on Tuesday, but this was Y n„ d mnensated for by the fineness of Monday, Wednes• Thursday, which doubtless was the means of at tach deg a great portion of the spectators, among whom on aia c ti on Y we noticed several noblemen and gentlemen of dis weli'Lannected with Devon and Cornwall, and a number Alinsporting characters. The ring was formed in eosure attached to Chalk Farm. T.) prevent any ill the m g, at nong the competitors, it was distinctly stated that play t o ‘ e h a of the Club would be strictly adhered to, and the n , -a in the Cornish style without shoes. oth e i7 e ng the new men from le, whose travelling and 4„ ri el Penses were to be discharged by the Committee, were rate 01 - s e ',g e, J. Hodge, Bray, Bennett, and Lanyon, all &A- R "• 07.4 bey the n ,, • — unapires and a referee having been chosen, and With —,, ""marY preliminaries arranged, the play commenced fro in ",,Inatch between Truscott, a Devonshire man, and Bray, hoo r ,,'??nwall, the first of two back falls, which, after two of th-e°l'2evere and scientific play, terminated in the defeat T he 4 0er. beih o f S i Tg l e Play was opened by Richard Dyer and Bath, thrown' C orn wall, and after some very pretty play Bath was Som e Luca, Cocking, struggles then ensued between Gill, Williams, ethera:' °ek ing, and Chapman, all of Cornwall, and several Tup f erred consequence of the rain the play was de till pet play this day was first-rate, the corn- G. sniineluding W. Snell, Devon ; W. Hodge, Cornwall ; Yen, D ev"n ; Bennett, Cornwall ; Webber, Devon ; Lan three o c r ent eries erilwall, whose family have been wrestlers for the lastGayn; Toogood, Devon ; J. Hodge, Cornwall ; 1 1 e als, d'eland; Hutchins, Devon • Bray, Cornwall; Wil wing, e r nwall ; Dyer, Cornwall; Truscott, Devon ; and At t h o 4111 , beriaild. . L nirtee n - , em 'se of the day there were nineteen „ standards," th e Ikkii k-kiruish men to six Devonshire men, conrquently freely greatly in favour of' Cornwall, which were '".Y th e L'y the natives of that county, and as freely taken ,„,,Tit ult t e n of Devon. 'w • Eln;i7 -tv • — The - double play commenced to-day between ver ge - ,"ge and Gaynor, and the latter yielded to his 3 / 4 ad r r 3 4 a • v o threw ; r u then, after one of the finest bouts of the three. days, Sneii,TPod in first ' ra t e style. - Ilut e hi Le wise, after a good tussle, threw Bennett. llr e b be ns Yielded to J. Dyer. Tru_seo r, after a capital bout, floored,lLDyer. . tt, -efeateGeorge (Cornwall); Chaptnati floored eairldbeßiruay us kocid man). V G : . ll 7 l a S nl n s , g absent when called forfeited to J. Hodge. Sto THIRD ROUND. - Land,DI)IG ME N. —Heavy Weights—M. Hodge, W. Snell, i en, J. Dyer , Webber, and J. Hodge. L icht W • ' J. I/ ei ghts—Williams, T ru s c ott, Chapman, and Bray. W . •,.. edge then threw J. Dyer, Lanyon yielded to Snell. and Chapman threw Webber (by consent). 1,;:-'41)1.1•n threw Williams, and Truscott gave way to Bray, ' 11 1; InJured his foot on the previous Monday. . STA ND , ~. FOURTH ROTJHD. ' bliraY thr;wat v Ej h J . a —Bray, J. Hodge, W . Snell, and W. Hodge . . ...Imo ( odd a inan).pman, and Snell threw W. Hodge. FIFTH ROUND. MEN. --AV. Snell, Bray, and J. Hodge. gave way to J. Hodge. af.ut• Snell and J. Hodge then played for the final fall, which, th a beautiful struggle, was won by Snell, amidst the cheers e as'sembled spectators. w.liasenepuri were then awarded as follows :—First prize, third wDevon), 10/. ; second, J. Hodge (Cornwall), 6/. ; 1. BraY (Cornwall), 3/. ; fourth, W. Hodge (Cornwall), • T r , .•,.....................1. 11 ki 'CITED SERVICE MAGAZINE for July contains an Q ui kt uernsey, a ,-. treble pafer, by Col. Wilkie, on " Jersey, these isl--' nd their ' Norman Laws," which, now that lts are attracting so much of the public atten_ c - , lion, cannot but be peculiarly acceptable. The public or ay here obta.in a knowledge of the extraordinary state I„„ta.hings which•has so long been suffered to exist in a I ) 7 t 'of our own territory. The account. of the Swedish iTnite:Yrey,isstinalgso a most valuable paper, - and there is muc ,, information in the "Notices from Kafirland. . tr t ,-,,aPe,r. on " The Sepoy of the Indian Arm y,7 " The V-111,--- oerriCes,", " The Duke of Wellington's pis ""es" B arracks in the 'West Indies," and on "Th e ng incident .auban Model," are ably wr i tten. There is an entertain t - entitled, " My Fi rst Smell of Gunpowder,"_ 1 1 the Old Man-o' -wars Man, and the " Military Scraps" . If e CaPt• Ford, are equally amusing. The " Further itby Major on the Waterloo . Campaign and_ its Hi.:torians," ilitiLailyervilasil Jackson, and the "Historical Sketch of un ishments," b_y Dr. Marshall, are replete with °T•mstUni. and will well repay perusal. THE SUN, LONDON, MONDAY MORNING, JULY 1, 1844. gress through the western counties of England is the most ridiculous that can possibly be conceived. He travelled in first-rate style in a carriage and four, and was received by the thick-headed squires at whose houses he lodged on his road, with honours scarcely inferior to those which would have been paid to a sovereign prince. As he was not very particular in money matters, he made a point of borrowing as much loose cash as his entertainers could con veniently spare him ; but, when the promised day of re-payment came round,behold, the Doctor was notto be found. Abiit—excessit—evasit—erupit ;in plain English, he had bolted! His story- is a difficult one for a novelist to handle with any hope of effect, and, ac cordingly, Mr. Ainsworth judiciously a eitents himself with just slightly glancing at it. The " Wrong Om nibus" is a strange story, supposed to be told by a lunatic, respecting a murder which he imagined he had committed, and for which he requested as a particular favour that he might be hanged. His commendable wish, however, was not complied with, and he was shut up instead within the four walls of Bedlam. In the critical notice of "Jesse's Life of Beau Brummell," the reviewer states that "the qualities which made this pri.ice of fops what he was, were impudence without limit, and selfishness without scruple." Brummell must have had other and rarer qualities than these, or he never would have ruled so long as a dictator at the 'West-end. 'Wit, 'or if not wit, great readiness of repartee we know he had; but he must have had also imperturbable self-possession, quick insight into character, and a power of turning to his own advantage the weaknesses of those with whom he associated. These are requisites far supe rior to those usually found in the mere fop, and will eo far to account for the grinding despotism which Brummell exercised fir nearly twenty years over the world of fashion. Poor George! With alll his min cir.g dandyism he was a gentleman at heart. He refused to make money, when he had scarcely a sou in his pocket, by publishing his memoirs, for which large sums had been offered him ; and in his quarrel with the Prince Regent —a man every way his infe• rior—evinced a manly spirit of independence and self respect, as rare then am it is_now among the courtier tribe. " A Jar of Honey from Mount Hybla" is one of Leigh Hunt's discriminating critical essays, who is never so much at home as when descanting on the genius of Spenser, as he here does—a po e t wom, to our shame be it said, we have three several times endeavoured to read, and as often failed in our attempt. We can devour Dryden, with his sounding versifica tion, vigorous sense, and felicitous paraphrases, and Specially relish the courtly compliments an d con densed cutting sarcasm of Pope ; but the genius of Spenser is too abstract for our sympathies ; he dwells in an enchante I world of his own, and few, we sus pect, but men of vivid fancy, can properly appreciate him. " A Lapse of Forty Years" is a journal of a man of fashion at two different periods of his life. Here is his diary, penned when he had become a superannuated Roue, 65 years of age : " MAY, IB4o.—Took an airing in my nephew's phae ton. Jack drives too fast • he says it i s ow i ng t o th e march of intellect. I should have preferred walking, if it had not been for the gout. Those last boots were con foundedly tight. Jack drove me home through Regent street, where he said he saw a great many pretty girls, but I think they used somehow to be prettier. Bond street is narrower, and was more convenient for seeing one's acquaintance on the other side of the way. Jack ea;d he could not decide whether to marry for love or for money. I told him love was bad and money worse. 'the rogue then owned he was in love with a portion less girl, and begged me t ) persuade his father to ap prove of the match. I promised my assistance. Jack helped me out of his phaeton very carefully. My cousin Maria called to see me, with her two pretty grand daughters. It is very considerate of her to conic and see an old man as often as she does. Maria is always cheerful and has worn vastly well. She does not look her age ' I I might have been very happy if Ihad marled her ; she Makes her home so comfortable. I often wish Emily had refused me. I wonder why she eloped so very soon, since she liked me well enough to marry me? My phy sician looked in to know how I was. He says I must go on with the abstemious system. Read the newspapers, Saw a benefit announced for an old actress, Miss B—. 'who left the stage twenty years ago, and is now in dis tress. She will play, for that night only, the character 'she came out in. To make the evening more attractive, e. 4 celebrated danseuse will sing a song, and a famous bigger will dance the cachuca. The whole will conclude With a scene from Norma, in which a young lady will sing the part of the high priest. Now-a-days, the whole aim of the scenic tribe is to do something that they are 'moat unfitted for. Nevertheless, I shall take a box, and twenty pit tickets ; for having been at her first, I am pound to be at her last representation. I fancy few of the young men that will go to see her will believe how pretty s h e once was, poor thing ! Dined on a boiled chicken and a rice-pudding. Drank toast-and-water as the physician prescribed. If Capt. had never drank anything else, I should pro bably never have married Emily. He saw double, too, When he spoke of her fortune, for it turned out to b, twenty, instead of forty thousand. My son called in, when I had half done, to lunch at my dinner. He came to borrow five hundred pounds. I lent it, but with a lec ture. I wish 'he would leave off his bad habits and take a wife. I should like to see him marry Maria's grand daughter when she comes out. Went to take tea and play at chess with General Blake. He related to me, for the hundredth time, how he had run away with Lady A--'s youngest daughter when he was' only a lieute nant. It turned out a very good match after all. Colonel who used to laugh at him, and say he would never get her, was killed in India years ago. I checkmated the General at the first game. His grand-daughter came in to make tea for us. She is a fine girl, and reminded me of her great-aunt, Fanny, whom she is christened after. She was so attentive to all my little wants, that I could not resist taking out of my pocket a ring, which I 'had intended for my god-daughter, and offering it to her. She smiled, and said she was afraid she might not receive a present except from older men than myself. Her father told her she was a fool, as I was old enough for anything of that sort. The little gipsy is full of good some and sprightliness. I left the General at ten ; and, a s my foot was better I' walked home, for we live within a street's length of each other. A poor woman, at a crossing, asked me for money : I gave her sixpence, and, as she seemed distressed, I inquired her name and abode. She answered Caroline ----. I had nearly made an 'exclamation, bnt checked myself, and promised to assist her further. All the way home I could not get rid of :the recollection of Caroline on the black pony, and how graceful she used to look. Her merry laugh used to ring in my ears. Who could have thought that her high spirits and her blooming cheeks would pass away, and , leave not a wreck behind? I wonder how many fortunes she has got through since Major S— took her off my hands. I must get the poor old soul into an almshouse, ; and provide for her comfortably. Her support for th , rest of her life will not cost as much as furnishing the cottage I once fitted up for her at Brompton. Dreamt that I was a young man again, and galloping to Bromp ton on the bay mare. Was just going to leap a high gate, when I woke with the cramp." HOOD'S MAGAZINE. We are happy to hear from Mr. Hood's own state meat, affixed -to the present number of his Magazine, that he his slowly recovering from the serious indispo sition with which he has been lately attacked, and hopes that he may live many longyears to come, to amuse and instruct the world by his cordial humour and healthy, unaffected wisdom. Evident proofs of his amendment may be found in his " Domestic Novel," which gives a highly diverting account, full of animal spirits, of a dialogue between a husband and a wife respecting the number of godfathers which it is necessary to have for twins. In an impartial sketch of the "Premier," we find the followinr, just remarks :—" The prejudice which is rising against Sir Robert Peel, is a move ment against the spirit of the times, and is a strong symptom of the character of the approaching age. It is beginning to be felt that our age is over mechanical, and that the physical principle is allowed to predo minate over the moral." The " Deception "is a story of a deeply affecting nature, and relates deserti o n o f a young Spanish lady by her betrothed husband, Sir Caversham Harley, who had given out that he wa , dead, in order to escape from her importunities ;- and is in consequence, shot soon afterwards in a duel, by her indignant relative, a high spirited Spanish officer. " Garden Fancies " are by the author of " Paracel sus." We. subjoin the first a the series, entitled "Th e Flower's ame Here's, the garden she walked across, Arm in my arm, such a short while since : - Hark, now I push its wicket, the moss Hinders the hinges and makes them wince I She must ha've reached this 'shrub ere she turned, As back with that murmur the wicket swung For she laid the poor snail, my chance foot spurned, To feed and forget it the leaves among. Down this side of the gravel-walk She went while her robe's edge brushed the box : And here she paused in her gracious talk To point me a moth on the milk-white flox. Roses ranged in valiant row, Think will I never she passed you by ! She loves noble roses, I know ; But this—so surely this met her eye ! This flower she stopped at, finger on lip ; Stooped over, in doubt, settling . its Till she gave me, with pride to make no slip, Its soft meandering Spanish name : - What a name ! Was it love or praise ? Speech half-asleep, or song half-awake ? I must learn Spanish one of those days, Only for that slow sweet name's sake. Roses, if I live ancl.do well, I may bring her, one of these days, To fix you_tast with as fine a spell, Fit you each with his Spanish Arai!) ! 'But do not detain me now ; for she lin.ers There, like sunshine over the ground': And ever I see her soft white fingers Searching after the bud she found. Flow er,3 s 'o you Sp a niard, look you grow not, Stay ou are and be loved for ever ! aa Bud, if I kiss you, 'tis that you blow not, Mind the pink shut mouth opens never ! For while it pouts thus, her fingers wrestle, Twinkling the audacious leaves between, Till round they turn and down they nestle— .ls not-the dear. mark still to be seen Where I find her not, beauties vanish ; Whither I follow her, beauties flee ; BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY. Mrs. Gore—the indefatigable, versatile Mrs. Gore, who appears to throw off a drama and a novel with equal facility—contributes to the present Miscellany a play in three acts, under the title of the " King of the Cobblers." There are-many spirited passages in this play, but the plot is not very skilfully conducted; and there is too much talking and too little action. The authoress knows how to pourtray character with effect, and is eminently happy in dialogue, but she pos sesses a very slender portion .of the construction of the constructive faculty, whether as a dramatist or a no velist. Albert Smith's " Fortunes of the Scattergood Family" , contains, this month, a diverting scene — namely, the pic-nic party at Gravesend ; where Joe Jollit, a desperate amateur of practical-jokes, plays off a hoax worthy of tlae inventive powers of Theodore Hook himself. • rhe. " Murder of the Duke d'Eng hien" is an attempt to elucidate .:the mystery, that hangs over this transaction ; the attempt, however, is fznitiess, and the matter 'still remains - As obscure as ever. The' advocates of the :Bourbons .have raised a terrible outcry about this act, which certainly reflects no credit on the memory of Napoleon,_ though it is b no means of so atrocious , a_ dye as the secret murder of poor Toussaint; but we do not find that their ex- . -quisite sense of justice,-honotir, and humanity, has ever induced them to reprobate the attack which some. of-their agents made on the First Censul's life, by means of the infernal -machine.:_.; "..Eton Scenes and Eton Me.n" is a series Of --.personal. -recol lections of his school-boy . - days7--those days which Gibbon so - much disliked- to look back . upon—by the author el the Puseyite novel, " Doctor Hookwell." Among other sketches, we have one of the late Mr. Praed, an accomplished wit and scholar, and the rival of Macaulay at the Cam bridge Union, with whom, he divided the suffrages of this once celebrated Debating Society. 1 " A Ramble through Styria," is by Mr. • Fynes Clinton... The purely descriptive portions of this tour are the best. An Odd Dog" is a highly dramatic story of an earnest, tragic complexion, whose scene is laid in Spain. The present portion of Mr. Murray's " Phy siology of London Lite," is devoted to a sketch of the House - of COMMODS, and .of the manner in which busineSs is. conducted in that spotless .Heuse. The description of -Hon. Members passing -through the lobby and being way laid hy.one or more of their constituents anxious for a snug berth for themselves or their sons, is: true to the letter„; and not less so, his, account of the way in which the Premier replies to an inconvenient question put by gime Member of the Opposition. " Though : replying,' says• our author; " he talces care , not to 'answer unless. he. has nothing to s iy. -- In that case he appears communi cative enough, and although .his _responses are occa sionally full . of mystification, lig style is clear and whatever the matter of his reply 'maybe,. the manner -never fails." We add Mr. Murray's portrait of Sir. R. Peel:— . _ _ " By the-tone the presentation . of petitions is concluded it may be ITalt-puit five o'clock, the hour at whieh.. the Prime Minister usuallyenters the House. You observe that tall man, one arm on his breast, the other concealed under the skirts of his blue frock-coat, walking briskly up the floor of the House, without stop or stay. Now he bows gracefully to the Speaker, and takes his seat in the centre of the Treasury Bench, next to the Home Secretary. He looks round, and seems care-worn and exhausted, as if the official duties of the day were suffi cient for him, without being in addition harnessed to those of the senatorial night. He is what most women and some men would call a handsome ma❑ ; his features regular, his complexion doer, his hair fair ; dressed neither ab'we nor under the go, el taste of a gentleman. If you did not know him, you might imagine him a wealthy merchant, a prosperous manufacturer, or banker ; his- expression and manner approach more nearly that of one of the highest commercial class than any other ; that man is the Prime Minister of England. "Yes, there he sits, the Premier, and we cannot help having a good stare at him. Not that be is more or less remarkable in point of physical stature than the gene rality of men :—he is evidently neither an Irish giant nor Tom Thumb the Great ; nor is there anything particularly statesmanlike in his air, manner, or expres sion. He is a prepossessing-looking man, with a letter of-recommendation-face, and there's an end on't. He looks one of those men you would select in a stage coach, or on the deck of a steamer, for advances to wards a travelling acquaintanceship, satisfied beforehand that you would meet with a favourable reception. But when one contemplates the man's position,—when you come to consider how much is in his power for good or evil,—how much depends upon him—what a large small human family look up to him, as to some pre siding genius, upon whose will depend the alternations of public prosperity or distress—when you think of the weighty interests intrusted to his vigilance and care, — when you recollect that, placed as he is, war may be proclaimed from those lips, and that arm, no longer than another man's, can reach the Antipodes in mercy, vengeance, or justim—when you remember that to him, simple as he sits there, is delegated the patronage of the Crown of Great Britain and Ireland, and that the fates and fortunes of the aspiring intel'ect of England, in every way in which it can be exhibited as connected with public life, are more or less in his bands—that a smile from that man is fortune, and his frown exclusion from expected honours and coveted rewards—l say, whether you regard the weight of his responsibility, the depth of his care, or the height of his power, you cannot behold the Chief Minister of England without some emotion, with which you are unaffected in contemplating any private man, of a station soever exalted. "The Prime Minister swells beyond the circumference of ordinary mortals. He is not a man ; he is a body politic. We do not behold a Right Honourable Baronet; he is before our eyes a great gubernating abstraction. In royalty we regard the pride and pomp ; but in him we see the circumstance of executive authority. Yet, great as he is, high as is, above us as he is placed, he is, after all, the creature of the Crown, the bumble servant of the law ; the power that gave him power is yet more powerful than he ; he is but as one of the genii, who in his turn is obliged to obey the spirits that obey him ; he is tenant of power only at will ; he holds all that his magnificent position bestows upon him, and enables him to bestow upon others, of the people of this conntry. Recollecting that the power of a Premier is but the power of the public will, devolved upon one man, ex ercised by one man for the time being, we have a greater interest in him ; he is nearer us, and all that concerns him is our concern." NE IV MOATHLY MAGAZINE. Mr. Cyrus Redding's " Recollections of the Author of Vathek" are here brought to a conclusion, and will leave a favourable impression on the reader's mind of the frankness and bonhornmie of the eccentric octo genarian. Mr. Beckford appears to have exhibited little reason in conversation, but gave his opinion of the numerous great men with whom be had come in contact in the course of his protracted career, with the utmost candour. Of the first Lord Chatham he said— " He was much too high-minded for George the Third, who was a man of coarse feelings. High minded noblemen are not royal favourites." The Chatham Correspondence, published within the last five or six years, proves that his Lordship was not quite so high-minded as Mr. Beckford represents him to have been. Witen it suited his purpose to do so, he could fawn on royalty as readily as even a Newcastle ; and some of his letters to George the Third are penned in the most abject styli of flattery. Yet, compared with his contemporaries, and keeping in mind the despicable character of the age in which he lived, Chatham was certainly a high-minded states man. He had a more generous, unhesitating confi dence in his countrymen than any Minister has ever shown before or since his time; and had he not, like Palteney, committed the grievous blunder of ackept ing a peerage, which, for many a long year, weighed heavily on his popularity, he might have kept the King in a state of all but vassalage up to the period when he retired from public life. With all his faults, remembering also his egregious, his almost purile va nity, and love of dramatic effect, we must confess to a hearty admiration of Lord Chatham. For five years of his meteoric career, he showed himself the loftiest, most energetic, and most triumphant statesman that England ever produced, and centuries may elapse ere she will be able to pro duce his equal. The " Perfidious Engineer" is a slight sketchy story, told not without a certain degree of easy humour, and turning upon the causeless jealousy of a lean old woman, as dry as a chip, who has married the engineer of a railway, and mistakes the steam-boat Adelaide, which he is constantly praising, for a female rival of that name. The late Haynes Bailey would have worked up a lively farce out of such materials. " Lights and Shades " are from the pen of Mr. Maxwell, and furnish us with some entertaining anecdotes, bordering on the extra vagant, respecting Irish duels, in the glorious old times when these affairs were of daily occurence in Ireland, and a nephew, from some real or fancied cause of offence, would not hesitate an instant in calling out his uncle and winging him. There can he no mis taking the author of the " Robertses on their Travels" which displays all that coarse, worldly manner for which Mrs. Trollope is so remarkable. We miss, however, much of that broad humour which amused us in her tale of the Barnabys. " Faults on both Sides" is an ingenious essay, in which a common place axiom is treated with no more deference than it deserves. In the " Talleyrand Papers "we find here and there an interesting incident, but the present chapter is much too long and wire-drawn. 6' Old Cries" are gracefully versified by Miss Eliza Cook, who possesses much of that sweetness and faci lity of versification which are so conspicuous in the poems of the late Mrs. Maclean. The " Libelled Benefactor" is a poetical allegory in Horace Smith's best manner. We subjoin it for our readers' amuse ment :-- They warn'd me, by all that affection could urge, To repel his advances and fly from his sight ; They call'd him a fiend, a destroyer, a scourge, And whisper'd his name with a shudder of fright. They said that disease went as herald before, While sorrow and severance follow'd his track, They besought me if ever I came to his door, Not a moment to pause, but turn instantly back. " His breath," they exclaimed—" is a pestilence foul, His aspect more hate ful than language can tell, His touch is pollution—no Gorgon or Ghoul, In appearance and deeds is more loathsome, and fell." Such stern prohibitions, descriptions so dire, By which the most dauntless might well be dismay'd, In me only awaken'd a deeper desire, To gaze on the monster so darkly portray'd. I sought him—l saw him—he stood by a marsh, Where henbane and hemlock with poppies entwined ; He was pale, he was grave, but no feature was harsh, His eye was serene, his expression was kind. " This stigmatised being," I cried in surprise, " Wears a face most benignant ; but looks are not facts ; Physiognomy often abuses our eyes, I'll follow his footsteps, and judge•by his acts." There came from a cottage a cry of alarm, . . An infant was writhing in agimies sore, His hand rock'd the cradle, its touch was a charm, The babe felt asleep—all its anguish was o'er. He reach'd a proud mansion where ' worn by the woe Of-consumption, a beauty lay -wither'd in bed, _ Her pulse he cmppress'd with his fingers, and lo I The complaint, of long years in a moment had fled I He paused where he heard the disconsolate moan Of a widow, with manifold miseries crush'd ; Where a pauper was left in his sickness to groan,— Both were healed at his sight, and their sorrows were . hush'd. He sped where a king, sorely smitten with age, ,In vain sought relief from-the pangs he endured. "I come,' said the strangely" your woes to assua g e :" He spoke, and the monarch was instantly cured. Astounded by deeds . which appeared to bespeak In the fiend a benevolent friend to mankind, From liimielf I resolvedi solution to seek Of the strange contradiction that puzzi'd my mind. " Chase, mystical being !" I cried, " this suspense ; How cornea- it thou'rt blacken'd by every tongue, When in truth, thou'rt the champion, the hope, the de fence, - Of the king and the beggar, the old and the young ?" " Thou hest witness'd," he answered (his voice and his . face Were all that is musical, bland, and benign) " Not a tithe of the blessings I shed on the race, Who my form and my attributes daily malign. " All distinctions of fortune, of birth, of degree, Dis4pear, where my levelling.banner I wave ; From his desolate dungeon the captive . I free ; His fetters I strike from the suffering slave. And when, from their stormy probation on earth, The just and the righteous in peace I dismiss,- I give them a new and a more glorious birth, In regions of pure and perennial bliss." " Let me bless thee," I cried, " for thy missions of love ; Oh say to what name shall I fashion my breath ?" " The Angel of Life is my title above ; But short-sighted mortals have christened me Death !" AINSWORTH'S MAGAZINE. ! In the present chapters of the editor's nov e l. o f " St. James's' we have a passing glimpse of the notorious Doctor Sacheverell, a shallow blustering bigot, who would never have been heard of beyond the street in which he lived, had not the suicidal policy_of the, Whigs elevated him for a time into a martyr. The history of this High Church quack's triumphal pro- Is - there no method to tell her in Spanish June's twice June since she breathed it with me ? Come, bud, show me the least of her traces, Tread in my lady's lightest foot-fall— Ah, you may flout and turn up your faces ! lose;, are you so fair after all ? FRASER'S MAGAZINE. Notwithstanding his strong Ministerial, or rather Conservative predilections, Fraser, like the rest of the world, is not less astonished than indig nant at the bite capricious —or, to call it by a fitter term, sycop'iantic —eondact of the Conservative supporters of the Government, and in an article on the " State of Parties'," he observes—" The recent proceedings in the - Commons, in regard to the sugar duties, have given a shock to the moral sense of the country from which it will not soon recover. Coming, too, as this unfortunate blu n d e r h as d one , u p on th e back of a similar blunder in the management of -the Factory Bill, it seems to have completely amazed the lookersson. For our own parts, we do not know what to make of it." Fraser may well be astonished, for sueli vacillation and pusillanimity, as the Conser vatives have - lately evinced in Parliament, have not been witnessed for the last century and upwards. These men have shown a disregard of all moral con siderations—a barefaced recklessness of character which, had it assumed any other than a political form, could scarcely have failed to ensure them a distin guished position in the dock of the Old Bailey. Toryism was had enough, but it was at least an in telligible principle; it possessed the undoubted recom mendations—no slight ones—of boldness and consist ency ; there w:is no m mina cant about it ; it did not profess to br other than it was ; it hoisted no false co lours ; itabated not one jot ofits loftypretensions in com pliment to the temper of the times, but stood up for its prerogative, unflinchingly, to the last ; but Conservatism has no standing, intelligible principle ; it is a thing of pore caprice, changeable as an April sky, ready to receive any impression that the Premier may choose to stamp upon it, devoid of moral courage, and afraid even to stand up for its own party interests, except in a circuitous, indirect, and underhand manner. There is something about this new-fangled, cowardly illegiti mate species of Toryism—this degenerate scion of an old stock—that treachery it se lf canno t t rus t ; and he must indeed be a sangnine visionary who can antici pate for it any long possession of power. But Fraser is not only vexed and annoyed with the Conservatives, but condemns, the Government also for trimming be tween the Church and the Dissenting interests—a well-grounded charge, which even their staunchest supporters scarcely attempt to repudiate. The "Em peror Nicholas" is a rich specimen of old-woman twaddle. The writer is in ecstacies with the eyes, the forehead, the demeanor, and superb dimensions of the Czar, and observes of his conduct while in England, that he " was dignified but not austeret cordial but not flattering, gracious but not servile, and looked; spoke, Ind acted like a monarch who possessed vast power, estimated aright his capacity for usefulness, and sought to use that capacity so as to benefit and bless." From the sentence immediately preceding this, we learn that the mode in which the Emperor exhibited his capacity for benefiting and blessing, was by giving gold snuff boxes to half the courtiers and servants in Windsor Castle—a very pleasant method of benediction, and greatly, no doubt, to the taste of the recipients ! It is soothing to learn, on the authority of this writer, that his Imperial Majesty embraced Prince Albert "with affection and intere.st," and that on visiting Apsley House, he said to his illustrious host, " may you live long, my Lord Duke, to enjoy the gratitude of the na tion !" These are momentous details, though we think we remember reading something like them in the daily papers about a fortnight since. The writer's cursory allusion to the late revolution in Poland betrays the most desperate ignorance ; and his description of the Emperor's appearance at religious ceremonies is so much in the style of Botnbastes Furioso that we can not refrain from quoting it--" Jove frozen by eternal cold, or riven by one of his own thunderbolts, could not possibly he more statue-like than Nicholas on such occasions !" The Czar must cut a queer figure at church if he resembles a God split into halves by a thunderbolt ! Of one of his Majesty's daughters we are told that her title is " Grand Duchess of Olga," which is about as correct as if the writer were to style the husband of Queen Victoria, " his Royal High ness the Prince of Albert!" But enough of this ar ticle on the " Emperor Nicholas," which is worthy only of the pen of some manufacturer of " dreadful accidents" for a weekly journal. " Coningsby" is a smart and somewhat satirical notice of Mr. D'lsraeli's clever novel. The Reviewer makes a piteous outcry about its personalities, whence we infer that he is not unconnected with the Rigby and the Tadpole school of politicians, whom the novelist has so wofully mauled. The " Rustic Seat" is a poem, in which occur one or two pleasing thoughts and images forci bly and unaffectedly expressed. From a lively essay entitled " Classics of the Table," we quote a sketch of the Marquis de Cussy, a celebrated French epicure, and whose works on gastronomy are in high repute with his countrymen " We now turn to the productions of the Marquis de Cussy, who, although prefect to the palace of the Em peror Napoleon, was in every sense a gentleman of the old school, and a mild and amite)le man. Who is there that was a diner-out of any magnitude in Paris from J une 1827 to 1830, who does not remember his portly, well set-up figure ? He was a clean-looking, comely, well' .tressed old man, and, so far as mere appearance went, always put us in mind of the late James Smith, of face tious memory, one of the most gentlemanly-looking, and one of the best dressed and best preserved men of his day. We think we have old Cussy before us now, with his high, open forehead, benevolent countenance, silvery hair, smart blue frock, with the inevitable riband in the button, clean white waistcoot, and black stock. Though associating for years with the roughest and most under bred Marshals and Generals, and the most priggish and pretentious of civil functionaries, he maintained to the last the imperturbable dignity and politeness of the old court. At the moment of the abdication, he flew to Marie Louise, and he abandoned the Austrian's daugh ter, when he found she was about to ally herself with a one-eyed chamberlain. In society, in which he mixed much, the old Marquis was an agreeable, lively man, full of anecdote, and ready-witted. His countenance beamed with kindliness and benevolence, and, if he had a fault, it was certainly in loving to excess the pleasures of the table. But, if he loved good cheer and friandise, he loved it like a gentleman, and a generous social mem ber of a civilised community. If you gave him a dinner, he was always surd to give you one in return. He did not, like a certain friend 'of ours, eat at every man's table, and never see mortal within his own doors. He did not go down to the early market to look for wood cocks for his own private, particular eating, and, thrust ing them into his ample double, carry them snugly homeward, there to gloat on them in solitary sensuality. He loved the pleasures of the table it is true, but he loved them reflected ; and he gave his mutton and his wine with as much goodwill, and as hearty zest, as the author of the most recent and most amusing tour in Ireland. There were many who feared, or pretended to fear, to ask Cussy to dinner, as there are some who pro tend to fear to ask our humble selves, but either these people were humbugs, wishing to be relieved of the expense (the likeliest supposition), or they did not know the simple tastes of the man. With an old friend or a good fellow, who gave the best fare his means allowed, and gave it willingly, he could dine off a whiting or an omelette, but he was severe towards those vulgar par venas who, presuming ou their wealth, heap their tables with a culinary chaos worthy of barbarous and benighted times." UNITED SERVICE JOURNAL. Colonel Cameron here resumes his narrative of " Personal Adventures and Excursions in Georgia, Circassia, and Russia;" and, after mentioning some particulars respecting the Russian navy, which, he tells us, is a very unpopular service in that country, adris that the present Emperor is the first who has ever directed his - attention seriously to it, with a view of rendering it as efficient as possible. The gallant au thor then proceeds to describe his introduction to Nicholas and the Imperial Family at the palace of the Hermitage, and gives a glowing sketch of the splen dour of the Court, and the courtly manners of the Czar, whom he represents as being one of the most stately and military-looking men in Europe, and ex ceedingly popular with all the ladies of the Court. " Notice 3 from Kafirland" is written by one who is evi denly familiar with the wild country and still wilder tribes of which he speaks. - Among other remarks which will, we suspect, be new to many of our read ers, he states that the Hottentots have a most per fect ear for music." The fact may be so, neverthe less we could not fancy a party of these melody-loving savages seated in a box at the opera, listening trans ported to the:syren strains of one of our Italian prima donnas. We could have dispensed with " Further Remarks on the Waterloo Campaigns," for the subject is one thoroughly exhausted, and on which every in dividual in the three kingdoms has formed a notion If his own, which is not likely to be disturbed. We subjoin Colonel Cameron's brief account of his pre sentation to the Russian Imperial Family at the palate of the Hermitage : I was still gazing upon a small but exqui'aitely-fi nished. Madonna, a master-piece from the hand of Guido, (and whose Madonnas are like his ?) when a stir with out announced the approach of the Imperial party, and almost the same moment the folding-doors at the extre inity of the apartments were thrown Open, and preceded respectively by a perfect squadron . of chamberlains and demoiselles d'honneur, the former blazing with gold and - embroidery, and the latter wearing the rich and singu larly-pleasing Russian national costume, the Emperor and Empress entered. Each passing round the . circle formed to receive them, entered into familiar converse- - tion with every new arrival as he was presented by his respective ambassador. I was the only military stranger, and on my name being announced by Lord Clanricarde, ,was minutely questioned by his Imperial Majesty on IL' , variety of points connected with the discipline and inte rior economy of the British and Indian Armies, in a manner which showed him well acquainted with b o th.- The Empress, mild, benignant; dignified, as the softened tones of her voice fell upon the stranger's ear, he could n 4 longer wonder at the veneration her character and presence everywhere inspired, and which volumes could .not tell so fully . as, the artless, simple description of a. beantiful - English - girl,-who, constantly in the society of the Imperial family during their stay at Ems, exclaimed, ' She was the most loveable being in the world.' On the breaking up of the Court I was overwhelmed with con gratulations, and the highest degree of cordiality, by several persons whom till then I had never previously beheld, but who now reminded me of my having brought letters to them from their various relatives in Moscow, and other parts of the Empire." INTERFERENCE WITH HOURS OF LABOUR. DISSENTIENT- 1. Because all reason and all experience have pro nounced clearly and absolutely against interfering by laws with the right which individuals have to employ their capital and their labour according to their own views of their own interest, and so long as no immora lity is committed, and no encroachment is made upon the rights of others, all persons are entitled to dispose of their property and direct their industry as they think most conducive to their own benefit, or their own comfort. 2. Because of the two, labour ought to be the most scrupulously protected from all interference, inasmuch as it constitutes the sole possession and only power of the great bulk of the people ; inasmuch as the labourer cannot flee, like the capitalist, from vexatious oppres sion, and inasmuch as any interference with his free exertion operates directly upon the great mainspring of the whole social machine, producing consequences which can neither be foreseen nor counteracted, and affecting interests the most serious, extensive, and remote. :3. Because the folly of all such interference with capital and labour is as glaring as its injust'ce, there being no one truth in any branch of science more incon testable than this—that individuals can judge far better of their own interests, whether as regards their gains, or their health, or their comforts, from their nearer percep tion and perfect knowledge of all the circumstances upon which their interests depend, than the rulers, who ,can only see the same things from a distance and in the general, and it being a truth equally beyond dispute that individuals will always pursue their own interests more unremittingly than the State, which has neither the - means of providing for each man's benefit, nor the constant incentive of personal feelings to keep its care and attention ever awake. 4. Because the present means affords a proof how dangerous it is for the Legislature ever to take any step in a wrong direction and depart from sound principles, under the influence of a temporary pressure, and how in evitable the consequence is that the mischief will not stop short where it began; for no sooner did the law prohibit the employment of young persons above twelve hours a day, than attempts were made, and proved very success ful, to restrict their employment two hours more; and no sooner did the law prohibit adult females from being Suffered to work of their own free will in mines, than the present measure declared adult females of all ages incapable of judging fur themselves how long they should work in factories, absolutely forbidding them from la bouring above a certain number of hours, as if it were an offence in an able-bodied woman of thirty or forty to work as long as she pleased, and ordering her, under severe penalties, only to earn a certain sum by the day, in return for the labour of her own hands; to all which may be added the fact that many persons have supported the present Bill, and some have propounded a still further extension of the scheme, upon the declared ground that, after the Legislature had: once begun the system of in terference, it was too late to question its propriety, and there was no possibility of stopping short where the for mer measure had left the question. 5. Because it is the grossest absurdity for the Sove reign to pretend that he knows better than his subjects how long they can work with safety to th e i r h ea lth an d Comfort, to prescribe how much they shall gain by their labour, or generally to take upon himself the manage ment of other people's concerns, an absurdity as great as the labourer would commit who should take upon himself the work of government and dictate to the law giver in what manner his measures ought to be framed. 6. Because it is the grossest blindness to imagine that the happiness of children is better promoted by the ne cessarily general and careless superintendence of the State as the common parent of all, than by the special and near watchfulness of the individual parents over their progeny, whom Providenee has wisely entrusted to their care, creating feelings and instincts expressly adapted to the purpose, and of far greater force and far more constant operation than any mechanism which rulers can substitute, although the inevitable conse quence of providing such substitutes must be to weaken the parental instincts, upon which, after all that the law can do, the lawgiver must in the end be forced to depend. 7. Because it is the grossest hypocrisy to pretend that the interests of morality can be promoted by interfering with the labour of the people, inasmuch as idleness is the root of all evil, inasmuch as grown-up women, if pre vented from working when and how they please, are far more likely to employ their time viciously, and in courses which no law can restrain; and inasmuch as no attempts are ever made, or even thought of, to promote morality among the upper classes by any compulsory provisions whatever. 8. Because it is the grossest inconsistency to single out one branch of industry for the subject of experi mens—how much tyranny over the capitalist and the la bourer may be safely exercised; and to affect an especial care for the health, and comfort, and morals of one class alone among all the numerous bodies of work men, for whom the wants of the community find em ployment., it being quite notorious that the sufferings are equally lamentable, which many other classes have una voidably to endure from toil and want, the caprice of employers, and the vicissitudes of the seasons ; the hard ships of their lot in life, and the effects of errors in le gislation; the order of nature, and the faults of rulers. 9. Because as instances of this glaring inconsistency may be cited, the facts stated in the Reports of the Poor law Commissioners to the Commons House of Parlia ment touching the condition in different districts of hus bandry. Labourers beginning to work at a very tender age, exposed to extreme hardships in their daily toil, and running no small risk of having their morals impaired as well as their education neglected. Women and chil dren do the work of which they are capable, and they begin their employment as early as five or six, and even, in some instances, four years of age. They have in some places to walk seven miles and more to their work, re turn home unpaid when the weather is unfavourable, and when paid, receive extremely small sums. They go to work at seven in the morning, and continue till dark; in summer till nine o'clock. Unless they can finish a cer tain task of work they get no wages at all. There is no classification of ages or of characters, and the most pro fligate persons associate with those of Vender years and comparatively innocent habits. Some of the re por:s disclose a frightful amount of immorality as the result of this admixture ; and the returns of illegiti ma t e pauper children for the wole kingdom show that there is a far greater proportion of them in agricultural than in manufacturing districts, in the proportion of to one upon an average. Now all these sufferings, though exceedingly to be lamented, have never been deemed fit subjects of legislative interference, nor have the severe sufferings, both in health and morals, of many manufac turing districts, ever been so regarded, all interference being confined to the single branch of cotton-spinning, for this reason, among others, that were the compulsory enactments of the law extended over all the branches of industry, this country would cease to be the habitation either of wealthy capitalists or thriving labourers, but would be left to the advocates of the new system of meddling, and the inmates of the workhouse under their protection. 10. Because the most glaring evils in the condition of the poor, both parents and children, are daily under the eyes,of the Legislature, and are so far from being checked, that they are encouraged by its members for their own convenience, because these evils could only be eradicated by imposing restraints upon the natural liberty of the people, and interfering with the voluntary contracts trelde for their employment. The practice of women suckling the children of others devotes hundreds of thousands of children to diseases arising from insuffi cient nutriment, procuring the death of many, and tend ing little to improve the national character. This prac tice has been blamed by all moralists, lamented by all persons of a sentimental cast, and objected to by politi cal reasoners, but no attempt has ever been made to re strain it ; lawgivers justly deem it to lie beyond their proper province ; and, refusing to interfere with the la bour of females capable of judging for themselves, al though the interests, and even the lives of helpless in fants, might seem to claim protection. 11. Because, however deplorable may be the devotion of young children to labour instead of instruction, and however desirable may be the liberation of females from all but domesticwork-.-one of the surest proofs of advanced civilisation, this can only be the slow and spontaneous growth of that progressive improvement in the condition, and, with the condition, in the habits of the people; and it is, manifest that when the lawgiver interposes with re straint upon capital and labour, he is certain to retard that progress, to worsen the condition of the people, to prevent their habits from mending, and thus to produce or exacerbate the very evils which he affects most to dread. 12. Because the grossest delusions have been, and, in many instances, too successfully, practiced upon the working classes, persdading them that measures like the present are for their benefit, and that the laws are more their friends than their employers, an absurd notion has thus been propagated, that by Act of Parliament men may receive wages without doing work ; and they have been taught to suppose that the question is not whether they shall be permitted to work as much as they please, and earn as much as they can (which is the real matter in dispute), but whether they shall for the same wages work a longer or a shorter time ; and an equal wild fancy has been made to prevail, that the gain of the master is made at the workmen's expense, whereas every reflecting person must perceive that, in exact pro portion to the increase of capital employed in any trade is the amount of remuneration which can be afforded to the labour whereby that trade is driven. 13. Because the wants of society present a fair and an ample field in which the provi dent humanity of the Legislature, as well as of emi nent individuals, may bo exerted for the improvement of the people's condition upon rational principles, and without violating any right of the subject, or any r ule of sound policy ; by amending the criminal law and the police system, so as to protect the young from the con tamination of old offenders; by rendering the punishment of all offences speedy and certain, instead of leaving it to mere hazard ; by unfettering industry from the shackles under which the relics of a barbarious age still leave it to pi n e ; and above all, by bestowing upon the poor the in. estimable blessings of a sound education, providing the means of infant and adult training, and leaving the peo ple to avail themselves voluntarily of the advantages thus wisely brought within their reach. (Signed) BROUGHAM. • THE MOORS.—We Understand that red grouse are p!entiful on the hills and moors of Cumberland, North LaneaShire, and Westmoreland.—Lancaster Guardian. GOOD Nr.ws.—The Scotch papers say that the grouse arei-ery plentiful this- ear ; so that we may reason • ably indulge- nr the pleasing anticipation that Parliament . willbe dissolved early in Aught.—Punch. THE SALADIN. MASSACRE OF THE COMMANDER AND OFFICERS, AND MURDER OF THE CHIEF 'MUTINEER. " TO WILLIAM DOBSON, ESQ., SE7.RETARY TO LLOYDS:— " Halifax, Nova Scotia, June 10, 1844. " Sir,—During the absence of the writer, a reply was • sent to yours of the 29th of February, and advantage taken of the opportunity to state his proceedings in con- Sequence of the loss off this coast of the Saladin, from • Valparaiso. We now continue the narrative. The writer returned from the wreck in her Majesty's schooner, Fair Rosamond, on the evening of the 3d, with 14 bars of silver and 7,755 dollars in silver. 'The remainder of what was saved, consisting of 7Q5 pigs of copper, and the ship's'materials, were put on board two ' • small vessels, and have since arrived. Another vessel has been sent to the wreck, with the view to save the . remainder of the copper. It is feared the guano will be a total loss. In consequence of the suspicion of • piracy and murder which attached to the crew, the Court of Admiralty took th e custody of the - property out of our hands. The men were arrested on suspicion, and placed in solitary confinement. After the lapse of two or three days, the writer received a letter, of which we enclose a copy. He immediately repaired to the gaol, where he heard the most appalling disclosures it has ever been our lot to listen to. When it was known that two had confessed their crimes a dis position was evinced by the others to relieve their con sciences of the weight which oppressed them, and from • them we received a full corroboration of their statement. We send a verbatim copy of Jones's confession, which details minutely the terrible atrocities which were enacted on board the Saladin. The captain (Fielding), who appears to have been the instigator of the mutiny, had been master of the ship Vitula, of Liverpool, which ship had been seized by the Chilian Government while engaged in some nefarious voyage. A statement of the ' transaction has been forwarded by us to the owners of the ship and consignees, whose names could be ascer tained. A great number of the letters and papers were wantonly burnt or otherwise destroyed.—We remain, &c. (Signed) " LLOYD'S AGENT." [COPY OF NOTE REFERRED TO IN TEE ABOVE LETTER.] Her Majesty's Gaol, Halifax, June 8, 1844. • Dear Sir,—William Carr and John Galloway want to make a confession to you concerning the Saladin, and what happened to the officers and part of the crew ; therefore we would be glad to know how soon you could get an opportunity to hear it, for we know not the moment we are launched into eternity, and we can never expect to find happiness in another world.—We are, Sir, your humble servants, (Signed) WILLIAM CARR JOHN GALLOWAY. CONFESSION OF GEORGE JONES. I, George Jones, first joiner of the Saladin, at 'Val paraiso, crew twelve in number, and tw o o th ers (C a pt a i n Fielding and and his son George), was working my passage as sail-maker, but acted as steward, by Captain al•Kenzie's request, until after passing Cape Horn, when J. Galloway took the situation, and I repaired some of the sails. While in the cabin, as steward, frequent dif ferences occurred between Captain M'Kenzie and Captain Fielding. The latter, in consequence, would often re. fuse to come to table at meals ; and I have heard Captain M'Kenzie say to the mate on these occasions, that it served him right for giving Fielding a passage free. When Captain M' Kenzie came on deck, Fieldihg several times cursed him, and used abusive language. Used then to come to me and tell me what he had said about , his quarrels with Captain M'Kenzie, and then talk of the amount of money on board, and what a fine prize a pirate would make of them. Asked me if I would fight against them if attacked. He would not. Cap tain M'Kenzie used to drink a good deal. Field ing on one occasion said to me—" Now, Jones, if you want to save your life, now is the time. I have spoken to the carpenter, and I intend to be master of this ship." At another time Fielding, in my presence, made a motion to show how he would cut Captain - Nl‘lcenzie's throat, saying, at the same time,:" Damn you." This was when Captain M'Kenzie was on the ladder going from the cabin to the deck, and had his back to him (Fielding). When I attempted to acquaint . Captain M'Kenzie of it he stopped me, saying, "You damned Irishman, I want to hear nothing." While I acted as steward I scarcely ever had a civil word from him. He was continually cursing and swearing at me. One afternoon Captain Fielding said to me, " You did not come on deck, as I requested, last night ; you had best do it. You will lose your own life if you don't. The other watch will do it, and you will . be killed." I understood that he meant by this that we were to take possession of the vessel. I soon after mentioned this to Hazelton, in the galley, by Fielding's directions. Hazelton laughed, and said, with an oath, there could not be a better chance ; there was a great deal of money on board. Hazelton went out. Wm. Johnston then came in, and I said to him, " There is curious work going on that Fielding is a queer man. He wants to make a haul—Hazelton will probably let you know about it." Before night it was known to Hazelton, Johnston, and myself. They both told me Fielding had spoken to them about it, and that all was right. A day or two passed over, and on Friday we were betiding sails. The Dutchman was getting them out, and I said to him, " There is going to be curious work on board." He asked what was that, and I said that Fielding, Jack, and them, were going to take the ship, and kill Sandy (meaning Captain M'Kenzie, thus named by the men). Andersen replied to this imme diately, " By God, I'll take a knife and cut his throat (meaning Captain M'Kenzie). He shall no more strike me away from the helm." I then mentioned to Hazelton what Anderson had said, and he replied that he would get him all right ; and he would talk to him. He did so when in the foretop, and Anderson willingly consented, , and expressed more satisfaction than any one on board. He talked and laughed about it. Captain Fielding then came to me and said the vessel must be taken that night (Friday). I did not go on deck that night (being sailmaker I had no regular watch to keep), but all the persons engaged in the plot expected me, and afterwards asked me why I did not come. These were Fielding, Johnston, Hazelton, and Anderson. I excused ; myself to Fielding by saying I did not think he expected me, to which he replied, " It is of no use making a fool of yourself ; if you go back your life is no more.' Next day (Saturday) Capt. M'Kenzie and Fielding had a seri- . ous quarrel on the poop, which was heard by all the men on deck, about the ship's gig. After this Fielding said, . " This night it must be done ; they were all ready, and, if I did not come up, my life would be no more." I went . to bed in the forecastle ; Johnston, Hazelton,• and An- , derson were in the same watch under the mate, and the deed was to be done in their watch that night. I went on deck between twelve and four, while they were on the watch. I was then told it was arranged that Field- ; ing . should keep up a conversation with the mate, . durin g which Johnston should strik e hi m w ith au axe. The mate was lying on the hencoop. Fielding came forward and said to us, Johnston, Anderson, and myself, " Now is the time ; the mate is asleep." He said it was best to send for Jack to see what he said about it, that_there might be no mistake. Johnston ac cordingly relieved Hazelton. The latter agreed to pro ceed, and returned to the helm. It was then proposed : I should take the helm and Johnston kill the mate, and that Fielding, Hazelton, and Anderson should go down to attack the captain in the cabin. I accordingly went to the helm. I saw Johnston then strke the mate with an axe. I think Anderson also struck him. Fielding.; Johnston, and Anderson threw the body overboard., Some time was tken spent consulting what to do, and I afterwards learned they were in doubt how next to pro ceed. Anderson and Hazelton went into the cabin to attack the captain, but returned, fearing as they said,: the dog would bite them. It was then agreed to make, an alarm, and strike the captain as he came up from, the cabin. Nothing more was done for a quarter of au_ hour, when the captain rang his bell three or four times,, but no answer was given to it. I was much agitated' whilst at the helm ; it was several times taken from me by Fielding and Hazelton, in consequence of getting the ship in the wind. Fielding and the others went to the main -deck, and I heard nothing for some time. until I heard the carpenter's voice in the water. This_ alarmed me, as I understood the captain was to be killed before the carpenter was to be disturbed, and I exclaim- . ed, " Oh, Lord, there is a man overboard !" With this Fielding ran immediately on the poop, and shouted, " A. man overboard !" as loud as he could, the Swede follow ing him. The captain (M'Kenzie) ran out the com panion, and as he came up Anderson struck him.; the' blow did not kill him ; he ran after Anderson round the . companion. Fielding then called me, " Damn you, why don't you run after him ; if you don't lay hold of him I will give you a clout that will kill you." I let go the helm and went round the companion, and the Swede and Captain M'Kenzie were struggling together. Fielding again said, " Damn you, why don't you lay hold of him ?" I then took hold of his hands, and Fielding struck hini two blows with the axe, which killed him. While in the act of striking M'Kenzie, exclaimed, " Oh, Cap tain Fielding oh, Captain Fielding, don't 1" Fielding said, " Oh, damn you, I will give it to you !" Field. ing hauled him forward in front of the com panion, and struck him again, and then threw him over board. When Fielding, Hazelton, Anderson, and John ston, went down to take some liquor, and said, " The ves sel is now our own." I was relieved from the helm, and went below to get a drink. I came on deck, and Field= ing addressed his son, saying, " I am captain." The soft said, " It was a pity that I had not a blow at Sandy." They all assembled on the quarter-deck, and consulted how they were to dispose of the rest of the crew, 'who were forward. Fielding proposed calling the atch s; they all agreed that Hazleton and Johnston were to' go forward and call the watch ; that Ishould liedown in the long-boat ; that Anderson was to stand by the mainmast. pretending to be asleep ; Fielding in the companion. When the man came to relieve the helm, they agreed to take his life. During this time Collins came on deck and went on the head. When the watch was called, Jem came up ; he went to relieve the helm ; Anderson struck him, as I understood, with a. hammer, and he was thrown overboard. I heard no noise in the boat. The other two men Moffatt and Rollins, who had gone done again, were then called up. They came up, and Moffat sat down on the spars, fore part of the galley. Hazelton struck him, as I understood, ;with an axe, and killed him. I heard the blow, and after I came out of the boat I saw his body. I assisted Anderson and Johnston in throwing the body overboard. Before Moffatt was thrown over heard Anderson went forward, struck Collins on the head, and he fell into the water. I did not see the blow,, but I heard Collin's exclamation on receiving it. Some time after this it was proposed by Fielding to do away with the cook, Carr, and the steward Galloway, but the rest would not consent. Fielding then said he would let them work, and he would find a way to get rid of th em . The cook came aft about six o'clock. Was alarmed when Captain Fielding told him the ship was. ours; that all the crew remaining were on the poop:. The cook asked what it meant; he was told, and a.vp peered quite satisfied. Galloway came aft laughing, and when he was informed of what had occurred