The Sun. — London, England, 1821-07-05 00:00:00

THE LONDON JOURNALS. DAILY- EXTRACTS , ERO)1 THE MORN f:NC -PAPERS. July 5. BUONAPARTE. ; • [THE, The despatches brought by Captain COCKETT, announcing the death of BtroNAeAkTE, are dated St. ilelena,•May )7. That • event took place on the sth of May, at ten minutes before kix in the afternoon. The illness of the ex-Emperor lasted, in- 'the' whole,. six weeks ; and its effects on his frame, as described by an officer who had• fre quent opportunities• of seeing him during that period, were so powerful as nearly to reduce him to a skeleton, and to obliterate all traces of his former features. During' the latter part of his illness he frequently conversed with- his medical attendants on its nature, of which he seemed to be perfectly aware. He declared that it was heredilary, and that his father had died of the same disease. Ofi examination after death, the stomach was found in a state of extreme ulcera tion, so that it appeared in some places perforated in large openings. His medical attendants gave it as their decided opinion, in which the physi cian who was called hi coincided, that the disease was incurable, and that the climate had had no effect in producing it. One trait of character displayed itself in his last moments, which marks the " ruling passion strong in death." As he found . his end approach, he was hahited, at his own request, in his uniform of Field Marshal, with the boots and spurs, and placed on a camp bed, on which he was accustomed to sleep when in health, and, preferred to every other. In this dress he is said to have expired. It has been asserted that the Heron, 'which brought the despatches, also brought the body of Buona parte to England, but this we understand, is not the case. His attendants wished his body to be conveyed to Europe ; but on opening his will it was found that he had left a request that his body should be interred in the island, and pointed out the spot where he wished his remains to rest, hi a beautiful valley near to his residence. Though Buonaparte is supposed to have suffered much, his dissolution was .so calm and se rene, that not a sigh escaped him, or any intimation to the by-standers that it was so near. At the departure of the Heron no day had been fixed for the funeral, but it was under stood that it would be solemnized with the mili tary honours due to his rank. A likeness of Buonaparte, after his decease, was sketched by a n English oticer, and is brought to, England. Count Montholon, we hear, arrived by the ship which brought the intelligence of this event, and immediately forwarded it by an extraordinary courier to the French ambassador. Numerous expresses left town yesterday morning to an nounce the death of Buonaparte to the different European courts. The news will be conveyed from Calais to the French capital by telegraph, where it will probably be known in- less than 24 hours after its arrival in London. [MORNING POST.] The most important intelligence which has re-ached this country since the battle of Waterloo broke the thraldom of the world and restored the independence of Europe, arrived yesterday. Na poleon, the Conqueror, at whose feet Monarchs knelt, and the Powers of the earth, with the ex ception of England, bent for a time with hum ble submission and adoration, no longer breathes in that universe which he filled with terror and ,desolation. Of a man who has filled so large a space in the history of mankind, it is difficult, at so early a period as the pre sent, to form a just estimate. His enmity against our country was so deadly and unre lenting ; he was so much bent on the degradation, if not on the annihilation of the British name, that it is not without some difficulty we bring our selves to speak of his conduct, adopting as we most cordially do the maxim, " De mortuis nil nisi bonum." It may, therefore, be sufficient to say, that he was without doubt the leading spirit of the age in which lie lived. Endowed by na ture with genius only equalled by his ambition, and favoured by circumstances so far as to meet for many years with no difficulty which he could not surmount, no force which he could not over power, and no glory which he could not eclipse, it is not astonishing that he should have forgotten that he belonged to a race whose powers are limited, and should have deemed himself resist less and omnipotent. To this belief, or rather in fatuation, he owed the reverses which clouded his latter years, and made him terminate a career of triumph and glory in exile and imprison ment. Placed by fortunate circumstances in a situation where he might be the minister of un bounded good to mankind, instead of proving himself a benefactor, he chose to become a scourge and a curse. Earth was too little for his ambition. Worthless as it is, lie coveted a larger field for the exercise of his talents and the grati fication of his rapacity. But when his preten sions exceeded the bounds of human.daring— when he attempted to contend not only with men and their strength, but with the untried strength of elements—when amidst the smoking ruins of Moscow, he challenged the slumbering energies of a polar winter, he was smitten in his pride, and the vigour of the giant was turned into infant weakness. How he fell, and rose again only to fall with deadlier violence, it is un necessary for us to relate. Suffice it to say, that the prisoner of St. Helena was still the terror of an emancipated world. As long as he breathed, no Continental Monarch could feel his diadem fixed and steady on his brow. The Magician who tram pled upon Crowns and States had lost his wand; but one moment, one accident, might still have restored it. The danger is now passed—the spirit of towering ambition is for ever quelled. He has now rendered up an account of his mortal deeds to that God, before whom human glory is but pollution and 64 abomination." Hostile as we were to our enemy during life, may he be forgiven after death. This is a prayer in which every Briton, or at least every Christian, will unite. The conquered is turned into dust.—Shall the Conqueror be proud and exult, because he may survive one hour or one day ?—A life of am !Tbition, and the prostitution of the noblest faculties Ito the worst purposes, thus ends in a lingering death in the dreary hour of affliction, almost without the cheering presence of a friend, or the tender consolations 'of a relation—ve will not withhold the inspiring hope which is imparted by religion ; for though Napoleon - whether among Mahometans or Christians, uniformly ren dered religion subservient to his political views, still it cannot be denied that he possessed a great mind, the resources of which, we are fond to be lieve, were properly used in the solitude to which his ambitidus projects had devoted him. , --Peace, therefore, to his probably repentant Manes ! [BRITISH PRESS.] The character of Napoleon Buonaparte, and the influence which his fame and fortune have so long exercised upon the political condition of Europe, or rather, we should sat, of the civilized portion of the globe, have been too frequently and too recently discussed, both in writings and conversation, to become now suitable topics for further remarks. The memory of kis achieve ments is still too fresh not to be associated strongly in the public mind with an energetic sense either of admiration or of hatred, and until this personal bias be wholly obliterated, it will not be possible to sketch his character with candour and impartiality. But whatever may be the judgment of posterity respecting the mo tives and the means that regulated and marked the exercise of his talents, whether he shall be considered as the scourge or the benefactor of any portion of Europe, there can be no second lopinion with regard to the magnificence of his de signs and the imposing greatness of his talents.— His actions must ever stand as prominent epochs in the history of mankind, and his name must in times.far distant distinguish the age in which he lived. The death of Buonaparte will be a great saving in the public expenditure of England. The Saint Helena establishment has been esti mated at about 300,0001. a-year,butwith incidental and accidental expences, it may be perhaps rated as little short of 400,0001. When Buonaparte escaped from Elba the French charged England with having let him loose, thus insinuating that his liberty would promote her interests. In the opinions of the French, therefore, England has paid two millions of money in her own wrong on account of Buonaparte, and this immense • sum she has F .id for the honour of being the keeper of the prison of her, best friend. rNEW TIMES.] " Information was received yesterday of an event, which a few years ago would have produced a most extraordinary sensation throughout Europe. Dispatches arrived from St. Helena, announcing that Buonaparte expired on the sth of May. It is a remarkable instance of the mutability of human affairs, that this intelligence scarcely moved the English Funds an eighth per cent.! The mighty Emperor, the wonderous Conqueror, had long before ceased to exist ; and what be came of the shadow, which wandered about on a desart rock of the Ocean, was felt to be a matter totally indifferent. After all the declamations against the unhealthiness of Buonaparte's place of confinement, it turns out that he died of the same disease as his father, who never moved from his native town of Ajaccio. The old Notary perished of an uncommon disease, a cancer in the stomach ; and Buonaparte, it is said, aware of this circumstance, formed a right conjecture of the nature of his own malady. He, however, very properly directed his body to be opened, that his son might be informed of the na ture of his complaint. Sic transit Gloria Mundi ! It was but a few years ago that this man saw himself at the head of the most formidable army the world ever furnished, with nations for his treasury, and Kings and Em perors for his attendants. It seems that nothing could withstand his power, and that his pros perity was as boundless as his wishes. " Pride compassed him about as a chain, and violence covered him as a garment." But his greatness is now " a dream when one awaketh :" he is re moved from the face of the earth ; and we scarce ly mark the hour of his departure. These are striking and awful lessons to mankind, and espe cially to those who have received talents, and wealth, and power above their cotemporaries, and who turn these gifts to their own selfish aggran disement, instead of directing them to the bene fit of their fellow men, to the maintenance of order and true liberty, and to the promotion of religion and virtue, the sure and only guides to temporal and eternal Lappiness. It is difficult to say how far Buonaparte may have deceived him self into the belief that he had done good to others in the course of his career ; but he too palpably betrayed an utter disregard of every principle which stood in the way of his own ag grandisement. When we look back on the vain and preposterous claims which he openly ad vanced to universal admiration ; we blush that this " 'enlightened" age, as it is called, could be the dupe of such empty ostentation. Even now, weak and the discontented think of him only as a great man, unfortunately for getting that his misfortunes were the genuine, natural, and necessary results of his vices.— He is, however, gone to his account, and we do not now wish to dwell with asperity on the re collections which his name recalls to mind. Yet on such persons the grave does not immediately close. History necessarily reads a lesson over their ashes; and it is impossible to apply to their public characters the rule " de mortuis nil nisi benum," whatever we may wish to do in regard to their private failings. It appears that he was, for a long time previous to his dissolution, per fectly sensible of its approach. Under such circum stances, an entire self-delusion was not easily practicable ; and we trust that he made serious efforts towards " redeeming the time." [MORNING HER A LD.] It is chiefly as a great master of the art of war and conquest that the name of Buonaparte will go down. When the extent and splendour of his victories are compared with those of the greatest Captains, modern or ancient, it is diffi cult to fix upon a name to which a superiority over him could be adjudged. Hannibal is re ' carded as one of the greatest warriors of antiquity. His invasion and occupation of Italy—the hor rible carnage which he committed upon armies composed of the flower of the Roman pAple, the most warlike and patriotic people of the world—with an army composed of the re fuse of Spain and Africa, united by. no tie but that of plunder, yet made to act and to endure with the utmost force of courage and discipline, is certainly a brilliant phenomenon in the history, of military genius. It is, perhaps, as a military ex ploit, more amazing than the first conquest of Italy, by Buonaparte, to which it bears an analogy. But how much has Buonaparte the advantage, as a statesman and negotiator, during that memorable campaign ? Hannibal's abandon ment of himself to the sensuality of Capua, where he was already lost, before the invasion of Africa, by Scipio, is in the spirit of a marauding adven turer, rather than a soldier—anti of political ta lent he gave not a glimpse. Of all the great Ge nerals,of antiquity, Buonaparte, perhaps, most re sembled Philip of Macedon, who was unscrupulous in his means, and conquered the bravest and most civilized enemies by his Cabinet intrigues and his inventive genius in military science. In the ex tent, combination, and sagacity of what, in the military art, is called " the coup &tell," Napo leon is said to have surpassed all competition, as well as in the manoeuvring of large masses of men.—lt is said that .he could wield 100,000 men as easily as a Colonel could his regiment.— Another quality which he possessed was inspir ing the soldier with confidence even to enthu siasm.—This art was not confined to his army.— The ascendency of his genius fascinated the gaze not only of the French, but even of a great portion of the indifferent of other nations, who did not hate him. He was a brilliant usurper— a character calculated the most of all others to fascinate minds that have any ardour, and affect boldness in speculative princi ples, and an emancipation from prejudice.— Yet, there are in his life some sublime and daz zling traits. His courage in the field has been called in que3tion, but without reason. There are numberless instances in which he signalized it—but never without an adequate motive— without an emergency, which shed personal lustre upon himself, and held out chances of a great stake. In civil or political emergencies his courage, his self-possession failed-L--he became confused or intemperate. He has done much in his time, and France and Europe will long retain the impress of hisgenius and character. The great object. of his life was power—direct, positive power. He spoke his will as if he wished that" his words were blows." Even glory, separate from the acquisition . of power, had no attraction for him. And shall it be said that he was wrong ? Docs not the history of his own life and death justify the bent and object of his ambition ? His fall from power excited a sensation like a great shock—His descent from life into the grave, an event much more awful, has hardly caused the slightest emotion. A leading feature in his mind was his contempt of men, and his disdaining to con ceal it.. The latter was an imprudence. lie was naturally,austere, and he had disciplined his heart to an utter impenetrability. Yet the softness of nature in him was not wholly done away. He had the sentiment of friendship, and more personal friends than most Monarchs. His attachment and kindness to his family were remarkable. HIS mother preserved great sway over him in private, and he possessed the affections of both his wives. His religion was a kind of fatalism, which con stantly appeared in his speeches and bulletins. Speaking of the death of General Muireur, in Egypt, he says, in" a despatch to the Directory, " General Aluireur, in spite of all remonstrance, and by a fatility which I have often remarked in men arrived at their last hour, went out alone, and was assassinated by two Bedouins." On the eve of a battle, he says to the army of Italy, " Death overtakes the coward, but never strikes the brave till his hour is come." [MORNING CHRONICLE.] The man whom nature and fortune made so peculiarly the object of their favour, and on whom the eyes of the world were incessantly fixed, from his first appearance on the scene, to his final removal from it, is now no more.— The intelligence of the death of Napoleon Buonaparte was, SOOII after its arrival, known in every part of this metropolis, and pro duced every where a -strong sensation. The eventful period during which he wielded at will the destinies of th e Continent, when the most powerful Sovereigns of Europe vied with each other in the abjectness of their submission to him, and when even we, protected as we are by our navy, and our situation, saw so much cause for appre hension from his power, is yet too fresh in our recollection, to allow us to receive the account of his death as we would that of one of the mob of Monarchs. Fallenfrom his power, the miserable victim of a cheerless and rigorous captivity, the people remembered that he was a Sovereign by nature ; and while a, Francis, an Alexander, a Frederick, or a LQUiS would, under the same destiny, have attracted as little of the re gard of the present generation as they will of that of posterity, they willingly paid to him the homage to which his extraordinary genius and energy entitled him. The reproof which one individual received from the Meeting of East India Proprietors for alluding to Napo leon in a harsh and unbecoming manner, may be considered a fair test of the general feeling. The history of the close of his life is every thing but ionourahle to those who are at the helm of affairs n this country, and even to the nation itself.— f his detention was necessary to the repose of Europe—if it was impossible that the Sovereign of England could receive him as another Themis tocles—it was not surely necessary that his cap tivity should have been embittered by such an incessant display of petty tyranny as made his life a burden to him, and could not fail to bring it to a rapid close. But we will not dwell on this painful subject. He belongs now to, History ; and while envy itself will be forced to allow him the possession of the highest talents, his indifference to every thing but his own personal exaltation must also he admitted. Wielding, as he did, the power of the new order of things, he might have conferred the greatest and most lasting benefits on mankind. _lf he had bad the good of the human race at heart, he would never have sought to ally himself with thoSe Dynasties Which the Revolution and him self had made 30 ridiculous and contemptible in the eyes Of the world ; nor have attempted with : so 'much eagerness to foster and revive the aristocratical prefudices to which the Revolution had given such a shock, in order to surround him self with a pageantry which he of all rulers least required. He might easily have extended to other countries the benefits which France had by her struggle succeeded in obtaining,and destroyed the reign of feudalism and privilege in Europe. But the benefits which foreign nations received from France, as a compensation for the loss of their independence, were received by them before his accession to power. At a very early period of his career, he distinguished himself by his hatred of free Institutions, and he carefully preserved the vicious Governments, and most of the vicious Institutions of the countries which he subjugated. The free Institutions of France which he inherited from the Republic, he either destroyed or greatly corrupted, and the most important of all, namely, .Jury Trials, was con verted into a complete State engine. The noble plan of instruction which the great men of the Revolution formed, but were unable to carry into complete execution, and which would soon have freed France from the reproach which still attaches to her, of a great want of knowledge in the mass of the population, soon dwindled down to a petty object in his hands. One can understand why the Ultras should openly avow their hostility to the instruction of the people in reading, writ ing and accounts, as a national evil; but that self ishness should so warp and blind a mind of such singular power as that of Napoleon, is, indeed. a singular phenomenon. But hiS se lfish ne ss p rove d' the cause of his downfal. The people of the Continent feared him, but hated him as their op pressor, and they seized the very first favourable moment to join those whom they hated only less than himself, in order to put an end to his power. Gratitude for benefits would have rendered time population either friendly to him or neutral, and the snows of Russia, which annihilated his army, would still have left his power almost intact. ,The confidence of the world, when once lost, cannot easily be re gained. Hence the incredulity with which the pledges of Buonaparte on his return from Elba were generally received. This we can under stand. But we fear the friends of liberty con tinued to invest him with all his former power, when circumstances had rendered it almost im possible for him ever to regain it; and the po pulation of Germany, once more, roused by the strains of liberty, poured itself out on France, and aided our 'gallant countrymen at Waterloo to destroy the independence. of the fairest part of Europe, and to rivet the chains of the nations. PROVINCIAL JOURNALS. ROMAN CATHOLICS. We have taken the following article from The Hibernian Journal of the 30th ult. with the areater satisfaction, because it shows that The Dublin Evening Post, which was heretofore one of the most strenuous advocates for the Roman Catholic claims, seems to view the subject in a new light, and is reasonably struck with the im propriety of any intrusion upon his MAJESTY that may tend to interrupt the enjoyment which he may expect to derive from his approaching visit to his loyal subjects of the sister island : " DR. MILLNER.-ROMAN CATHOLIC AIEETING.—We are pleased to find, and we esteem it creditable on the part of " The Hibernian Journal," that it was the first Newspaper in Dublin to caution the Roman Catholic Body, as wcll.as to ap prize the Protestants, of attempts to call an Aggregate Meet ing, which could not possibly benefit the Roman Catholics, and may probably do them much injury. Some of the Newspapers generally in their own interest, seem to have taken up our view of the case, in corroboration of which we quote the following observations from The Dubliii Evening Post of Thursday : . PROPOSED CATHOLIC MEETING.—The Reader will see thae•there is a Requisition for an Aggregate Meeting. The ostensible object of the'Meeting is to prepare an Address to the King. The real object, we have been informed, is to counter balance the Meeting held at D'Arcy's last Spring:. We put it • to the Catholics of Ireland, whether this be a period to stir up angry feelings, or to launch, unnecessarily, into controversy. We put it to the Requisitionists to consider. whether this be the mode which they should take in welcoming his Majesty to this part of his dominions.-ewhether it be necessary to get up a Public Meeting to discuss the Veto, just at this time—wheth er , if there be, and we feel satisfied that there are, serious objec tions to such an arrangement, the time calls fur their discussion j ust at present. Dr Miliner, we understand, •is in Dublin. ile is a learned and pious Prelate, and will, no doubt, be treated with respect and. hospitality ; but really we would wish to leave the Ecclesiastical part of the Catholic Question to the legitimate depositories of the Catholic Church in Ireland-- namely, the Irish Bishops. Of the prudence or consistency of Dr. Millner, we have not, we do confess, the highest opinion. He is not wanted. •He should not . have a voice potential, or even optative in Irish politics. We say again, let the Requi sitionists pause. We perceive there are many good and re spectable men amongst them ; but we miss, at the same time, the names of many respectable and good men. To the for mer we would appeal. Is this a tune when any disunion should appear among the Catholics of . Ireland ? As to the Address--is there any occasion, we would ask, to prepare it now ? • For the love of God, let us have no tine or gaudy compositions—we are sick of them, and of their au thors.. At all events, the Address will conic with a better grace —will smell less of the lamp—on the arrival of his Majesty. Let there be a meeting then by all means; but let the object be defined, and confined to an expression of duty—of aflixtionate attachment and ardent loyalty—to the first 'British .I;!onarch that ever visited Ireland in peace—to the first King whose ar rival all sects, all parties and denominations hail with unani mity and delight. Let there be at least unanimity for once, among the Catholics—let not those who are looking for liberty, exhibit an odious and contemptible exception to any other class of their Countrymen. The daemon of mischief alone would recommend another course. it will be delightful to the foes of Catholic freedom. Indeed, if we had rot reason to know what was passing behind the curtain—if we did not believe in our hearts that the getters up of this meeting are really anxious for Emancipation, though there are some uncharitable enough to suppose the contrary—vie should have no hesitation in say ing, that the enemies of the country alone would suggest the introduction of polemical tapirs just at this time." CHILD DROPPING.-About half past ten o'clock on Friday night, a very fine male child, apparently about six weeks old, was brought to the workhouse of the parish of St. Anne, Black friars, which was found exposed in the street, de serted by its unnatural parent ; it was dressed in a white bed gown, frilled at the bosom, a worked muslin cap, lined with red silk, and laced foot ►ng let in behind, with two narrow lace borders, white ribband, chintz stay, and cockade of the same. There was a bundle, containing other necessary articles ; found with the child. COMMON UALL. • YestPrdav / a Common nail was held at Gnild , hall'to'receive, pro forma, the result of the late ELietion for Sheriffs, as also for the dispatch of other : ptiblic,hu, , Aness„ At one o'clock the Court was opened by . the Lora) MAYon and SHERIFFS, with the customary forms; after wh.tzh,- dheriff WArTllivrA3r came forward, and declared the tState or the Poll, when Alderman GArtnATT and Ald , i:rmanl 7 E,.4 . . , ,lttEs- were declared to be duly elected, whiCh announcement was received With great applause. 11r. Mdarnan 43 - APRATT, the senior Caildd?,te, - then came w forard to return his thauks to the LivEry for placing him in the proud situation which he occupied on the poll. Tne worthy. Alderman concluded with declaring his determination to fulfil the du ies of his office, whether a Magistrate or Sheriff, without the slightest bias or view to party favour.—Wreat applause:) Mr. VENABLES . followed on the same train, and was also much applauded. Mr.,ellook also returned thanks to those friends ;who had supported him. OLnliAm moved the thanks of the Hall to the present Sheriffs for th,:ir impartial conduct on this occasion. Alderman SPai•rILMA and Mr.; AiroILLIAMS returned thanks. • On the motion of Mr. WatoTE, the Court then proceeded to investigate various items in the Civic Expenditure. Mr. PARK INs made some observations . on the Mode of elect ing Sheriffs ; and thus terminated the business of the day. FRACAS AT THE BAR.—A scene of the most extraordinary nature was yesterday exhibited in the Court of Exchequer, and almost in the very • presence of the Learned Barons on the Bench. Two Gentlemen, dignified by silk - gowns, had a dispute in question under 'discussion, as to an al-. leged fact; A contradiction in rathell positive terms was given, and no retraction made. The subject before the Court being decided, the Gen tlemen; in high wrath, left the table, but'had not got beyond the screen which interposes between the great area of the Court and that part in which bu'iness is transacted, when . words of the most offensive nature were exchang,ed. An apology was demanded, and refused. This was followed by the use of epithets and threats' not to be en dured in the ordinary walks of respectable so ciety, and hints thrown out of ultimate satisfac tion. A crowd collected to witness •so .unusual an exhibition, and at length the Court, being in- • terrupted by the high sounding tones of the.par ties, broke up. The two Gentlemen were do n summoned before one of the Learned Barons, who tendered his good offices to allay the dispute ; - and his Lordship was, we understand, tinaiiy obliged to take the precaution to prevent a More hostile conclusion of the affair. Dere the 'tnatt, r rests for the 'present ; but it has excited no small. astonishment among the general body of the members of the long robe. • CORONATION SEATS.—An information has been aid against . a Gent lemanin George.e treet, West minster, for erecting certain seats at tl!e front of his house. The information is laid 'tinier Mr. M. A. TAYLOR'S Act, called the Street .Act, and it charges the,Defendant with " erecting or caus ing to be erected certain wood buildings, which project from the front of hiS house a greater dis tance than the Act of Parliament allows." The case was heard at Queen-square Office ; but• consequence of an informality in the information, the Magistrates came to no decision. The party complained of, is Mr. GLANviLLE, an architect ; and the complainant, Mr. SEWARD, who stated that he belonged to the Office of the District Surveyor, had laid the information in complitince with numerous applications from the neighbour hood. An awful instance of sudden death occureeiti on Saturday, at Ealing fair ; a decent looking countryman, about 40 years of age, ascending . 3 show booth, staggered and fell, and instantly e" pired. There were no papers found on his per son to lead to a discovery of who he was. The body was carried to the Feathers public-house, on the Uxbridge road, to be owned, and for the inspection of a Coroner's Jury. COAL MARKET, JULY 4. Ships at Market. Ships Sold. Price. 23 Newcastle -19 i - 365. Od. to 425. 6d• 19 Sunderland 13, 1 1 - 355. Od. to 435. Od. CouN-ExcTrANGE, Ju LT 4.—Although the supply of Wheat this week has been far froin large,' and the weather continues unfavourable fin the growing crops, yet the demand is very trifling, and only the finest samples find buyers , for which description Monday's prices were obtained this mor” - ing ; but the inferior qualities were unsaleable, and prices no minal. Barley is Is. per quarter cheaper, having a pretty goad supply from Suffhlk, a nd b u t littl e demand 'for it. Fine Oats fully support Mondays's prices. In Beans, Peas, and other to ticks, there is no alteration. PETFusrlEtn, duty 4.—The following were the prices at our Marhet this day:— Per Quarter. Wheat (las Od a 56s Od Barley 2os Oil a 23s 011 att s Pease —s 0(1 a --s od Beans Per Stone. Beef 3s 6,1 a 43 04 Mutton Veal as 6il a4s Oct, Lanth Punk Ot 0,1 aPs Od Hay The persons who have been so long in the habit of e recting booths, stalls, & c . i n th e M ar k et Pl ace, f or the purpos e ", vending, or exposing for sale, Linen, Woollen Goods, Boots/ Shoes, Ilaidware, and other Merchandise, to the great injury of the resident tradesmen inhabiting houses at considerabl e rents, and subject to heavy rates for lighting, paving, cleansing , and watching the town, received legal Notice, on Thursday last, to discontinue the practice, else Actions at Law will be commenced against them. Thi s ti me ly i nter f erence o f t h e Ear l of Lonsd a l e , t o a b o li s h an ill ega l custom. b y which the ma rke t was rendered very incommodious, has had the desired effect no booth, &c. having since been erected there. It seems tha t certain persons had ac t ua ll y grante d l eave f or t h e erect i o n v_ tents, in the Market Place, for which they received considerap . sums of money.— (Whitebaven Gazette.) • MARRIED. On Tuesday last, at Ealing Church, Spencer Perceval, eldest son of the late Right Hon. Spencer Perceval, to Anfi„ - f Eliza, youngest da ug ht er o f th e l ate G enera l Macleod " Macleod. On Monday the 2d inst., Colonel Hugh Baillie, of Mgirtinito' cO' • street, Cavendisli.square,. to Mary, youn ge st daughterantAA -ip heiress of the late Thomas Smith, Esq., of Castlethall, the County of Lancaster. On the 2d instant, at Radclive, near Buckingham, i . smi, Esq., to Mrs. Ann Tate, both of the former place. • DIED. f o f On the 30th ult., at Boulogne, Sir Thomas Hyile Pag e , the RoyarEngincers. Esq . On the Ist inst., at Bath, i n hi s 77th year, Hen r y Cem , - i irest; On the Ist inst., at his father's house, Duke-street, minster, - in the 22d y ear o f hi s age , Edmund; eldest ,on Edmund Smith, Esq. On the 2d'init., Lieut. H. B. Woodhouse, R. N. . en hanl, On the 29th ult., a t A nn Dale's, Bruce-grove, pots Robert Womersley, of Minster, aged 73. of Gower- On Tuesday morning . last, Wm.Nettleshipp,Esq' street, Bedford-square, in the (31st year of his age:- one o f the Mr. George Newman, the wknown driver e to i Brighton coaches, of which hews partprops of a_blood denry, on Sunday last, in consequence of the ruP. t vessel on the brain. died sud- );..r? LONDON : Printed by .T. B. CARSTAIRS) - - - of N°' 29, Grea t Ormond-street, Qu ee n- square ; an d rubli4leti by W. A. 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