The Sun. — London, England, 1850-08-29 00:00:00

SPn ------- -------------- -RING INTELLIGENCE. 4;1 , y b „,-„,. hc hat , .... ~,A.k.,,r,:%- s EDNES DAY. e , w "rth Sisk ~ . • I h 50 added , th e D 1., re 0, to sOSB. such, wit h . 'ek e. „ 'lee of Devonshire, the second to save In A k p l i d 3 "'le utile and a ha;f. (20 Subs., 10 of wle,m D ', "` 4 . elch.) I; .'" I' ' Nil .4144_,,, _l7,iirker 4 yr;, 7‘r 413 - ••• , k ra IS ild Rose, 4 yrs, 7:,t 71b - • ••• t0ye5,...,, Won by a length. tor u so " r celd Stakes of 10 sous. each, and 50 atliligi , It(,l4stiti3Trs old, the second to save his stake. T.Y.O k r H. Stobbi, sal. .J, h it ,. , The Cutler ... ••• - Ps a Juive ... - miles... it, b T he tink. W . on by a head . k e ' , 4te 6 0 1 _, ,''Pers - Plate of 601. Two ,..Zt5,,,_ _utawntker, 4 yrs, gat 41b - Itr,zi4sencral Sale, 4 yrs, 9st 41b The 8 J esse, 4 yrs, 83t Gib .. - .8,4 4 Won easily. Ile & Stakes of 5 sovs. each, and 30 added D Avie a 1 , Heats, one mile. (5 Subs.) .44Critehi: 48 7, 3 yrs, 5,t 131 b ... - "• 1 Ra r L L Yille L 6 yrs, 8• t 131 b ... - 2 itHtlist-07t,tk_1. RACES.- YESTERDAY. trp t i avvergio, the two days to which the .11unny -1 ilt „_ ! are liMited, was, without exception, the t ok f i t i tieil oiviehre issued, and sufficiently accounted for the o b i 'tnej ori , g'sneral attendance, and for the absence 1, 1 tsad, r 'Y et the ring. Ilad the bill of fare been ,"lar as kfttelY good, the fineness of the weather, and '"ttoi lis 1 the PI 'Y s et *etild have S P train from the Waterloo-bridge let,: The „ eve ensured at least an average com er FrOPr,...._ thi i 1 the evenn Lew° for this day is, in ull respects, 1 4 , 1 e t th, 8 ts to come off being five in number, in itihklte rie s l lll ;_eY and Middlesex Stakes, Queen's Plate, ti e° . TO B eate, with the probability of six runners 4 t h e II e sntries are given underneath. :gold C up yett,,rday a brief return will suffice. ;1 (4 , fo r : et . 50 sous., by subscription of 10 sous. 4.stel a g ed Years old, 7st; four, Bst 51b; five, 9st; 1 ,. , allo w - ,,,, 5e ", 9 st 31b; mares and geldings allowed t,:leee to c es for maidens and winners extra; the d I,‘„eibseribee sold for 500 sm., if demanded, &c, an ii ; rlEle t ' t° the Cup in 1851. Two miles. (5 Subs.) 2.. (1, fielert,s Little Jack 3 y 111e 14 0 14 ,3 "t ;, °16 's cby Sir He r r s c ' u i les, out of Dark itr,i tr ee'o 4 !t 91b ............ (Robert Sherwood) 2 IJ'ea Sa ris 'Pus, 4 yrs, Bst 71h (Reeves) 3 14171.1g....2 t„-",°°d, 5 yrs, Bst 1 Ilb (Snit) 4 Ptteb l 'the -- 1 .„„ 1 ' e ll Little Jack, and 3 to 1 egst Dark 10 - s u etee s - t e i f er the last mile was reduced to a lirkttili tttli n- " "18 ack and Dark Susan colt, the ThZe: g cleverly by a length. Run in 3 min. tti kk Otter 8,,,,_ fib; hiN ~ . kzes .; Id of 16 BOW. each, with 25 added ; 2s ,:,•;24. gat 101 b; four, lost 10Ib ; tb e r " : 11 11ot Lged, llst 121 b ; five, li st h three to start, or_t e 0, w ilies t , f ,, - added ; the second to save his stake ; 1 14; 10 (14,7 be sold for 250 toys., if demanded, &c. Zlek e Nt's i' de te• Two miles. 1 0e'eJob' e t , I PE', 5 yrs (Hr. Berkeley)-walked over. tsi 't• to r tvirti Stake s ',f 25 soya, each, with 50 added, t o ll , s B erl et : Years old colts, Sat 71b ; fillies, Bst3lb! bi l k 4 l4 l? soya' ' 31b and 51b allowed, s winner ubs.) ei;;lf,tBlobtsolitci,B expenses.trt f ls T.Y.C.T Buck, out of Mar- A°• 4 4 t 71b by Ugly t ', elith, .............................. k ir edb ' ()te' c by Lanercost, out of Bellezza, i'. r;',_••••,....... . ...„(Dockeray) 2 - ti t) "ee's.r ................... (J. Sharp) 3 tel l , ,t.. 2 eageilon Bst 71b . ktt;4 b r Y, tw o t i : .. l en kargellina filly.. ..Won in a 1 10 k ili tt ueths. Jagellon a bad third. lit,tB!• tech; th ef 50 sovs., added to a Sweepstakes of lib. i atel " t ee yrs old 6st 121 b, four Bst 71b, five . 4 1 4e i v i,, a ged 9st 31b; mares and geldings allowed li kki i os, si "ner to be sold for 200 sore. if demanded, ` t- 411 ' te ll ces if tu be sold for less; the winner to 4114.14bettth6 fund. Zeats, one mile and a half. It, b - ras' s °llll2's Beebee Blinnoo, 4) rs (G. Browne) 1 1 el tles 1,,,, 1 ° M 11 , 3 yrs (Harding) 2 2 "Y Francis, 5 yrs' (J. Mann) 3 3 lit I,p.i.„Won in a canter. 1171:411„-4•,..ut-iBES FOR THIS DAY. )i,llheilui,%;,*B-r."Ittio4I2P.DLESEX STAKES.-- 'Repletion,__ 4 yrs, 11 1:1 Pi, ah °4 na, 4 yrs, BNt 51b- E e 5 yrs, Bst 'csi) ' 121b nit eel% I ' 4 Yrs, Bst-Cheerful, 4 yrs, 7st .' l l. pat o ' Yrs, 7st 61b-*Little Jack, 3 yrs, 7st 21b 11 1, 4110 4 -1 „, 4 3', ra, Est 91b-and *Ballet Girl, 3 yrs, rt "41arked with an asterisk are expected to qt., IkCktiel4 1 , u °6e81::1U8.--lieroine, 4 yrs-Carban i cle, 4 1 , eetr au 2 jaof -- _-Montp h ensier i: e 6 d yrs-1 'stic ff, 's,°!lt 41 1 ,0.- st u ß " . Y .:L a Tyr g .-c by Veloci ot% l'tl 1'i1.....Y Geraldine, 3 yrs-Little e Jack, 3 yrs- Ne 0115 e,,,, The Swede, 3 yrs-c by Sir Hercules, 11111 4b -au tt (1 4 - C l3 ' 3 . yrs-Escape, 5 yrs-CElipus, 4 yrs k eoo r Ick t , , 0 'Visite) y rs Ikeft„"Yrt....:WEEPsT - Christiana, 4 yrs-The r1Lt(111.4141!1),,b5:4 y' S ir 4 11 t e E r s CuTes, out of Dark Susan, 3 ~,, L'ett k ' 44.-- Hood, 3 yrs. 1140.4,edikr-EB.--Beetree Bunnoo, 4 yrs-Bring( on, 3 34 of ( Y 3 ' 5 Y r s-Normanton, 4 yrs-Hood, 3 yrs ! 11 4 , 1,W 1 ,ghaeo, aged. t ei h a , e ttee r .1 " 4 0' ON THE COURSE. 4 tit Li ttle AND MIDDLESEX STAKES. t a tol p, TR o Jack I sto 2 agst St. los lia . 4 ° 14 lit t i ,„ -I ttA•T YORKSHIRE STAKES. 4 : ' ) c t.. 4 04v t-u tbOIV I7to 1 agst Champion `‘, I ' ° ICI ST. LEGER. tut ~tqur . , 2O to 1 agst Bolingbroke (takeu) 14 ofte i o t a " so ( i t . ttken ° ra e 4 10 t , ) es Co ta bs 10 to 1 about Beehunter. h Oet,. C r e ,.,ece to-day (Thursday), at 2 o'clock. „set) .1 411 o 4448 RACEQ, -TtresDAY. *‘' ' tel' Ropy . *-* an d 15 aided (6 A, tir e e es et 2 soya. each, - Kw . r p lti:,a y rs ra three heats by Mr. Pick' ring's . t ile ' 1'01t5i4,4,4- ,k,Qrraiib), heating Mr. Hargraves's Irish tl ll 4 Be g • 7 Mr. tiottby's Shareholder, 4yrs . - r. ki p,, y ~,gar. a „ 4 ' 7 ,1 1- Neighbour-Mr. a Bond's A II 4 ,0 4f ro ss- rd -- F Mr. Bond's Miss Ann„ 4 I:ll4,te r , iie ark Stakes of 3 soya. each, and 02n5 12 1 (C o 4 et a h and thtee. quarters (3 Subs), were w on T'll °4l l, b" Y „Mr. L l oloforth's Wilcnont, 3 yrs, ibt I hk `q k r. /ViLiniz Mr. Pattison's Gracy, 5 yrs, Tat 111 . 1 . ii,4tirollt,k's Alma, 3 yrs, 7st. h t' leo, ? t akes of 3 soya, each, one mile (3 f stioe m l y_ tr ' h ul two heats by Mr. Birch's Queen o 'LO .434 t ing Colonel Arthur's Birdlime, 5 .........._cidale's The Drummer, aged, k , 'to C RICKET. Tor t Pp uRICKET. 0 ENGLAND v. TWENTY-TWO OF 1 / 4 / 1 41 4,Ahd ,_•rE FERBOROUGEL Itr kt4 ie w boti7 li tell was resumed at Peterborough on tiro 4 aas 4 1 on the preceding day, there was an 4 4t h „ Of ' i s ktil k „ 14:.t p , , 40 1 , -- e-ta of spectators. It will be s!tin by h a . cille;l°F th:te that the Twenty-two obtained t e A le oft 'etli,„'•t;leven by 23 on the first innings, and N o he sreeeded when time was called in lowering , re4 tlo, n k England wickets for 15 runs only. & it i t . - e 'cse of Tuesday's play was as follows :- ie N Iranibeellt TIIE ELEVEN. • 41) litres4ngs I ,t ' , l l l b ileh tz i ,,,ettr es : .............. 2 y,ii 4, 4 Z8 , 8 .. : .• ••• ..... .. 9 . • I N kilt riule "" ........ 32 kt t %1 r est 3 ' .. ..... . 2 o N tte A v. ••• ............ 29 G,l,t•li' k ". ..... ' re ere, b But -1.81., 1::: ................ 0 b Tinley ..............0 th it A l4, , e, t sn u ttress ..., 0 k,tt,,,s . 1. , C Coleman, tekl,4lol i; ................ 20 c Mayers, b Tinley... l ci . i l i , t s „ 44 Yers • . .. . 2 not out ,N,tttte, ' l ' , c Slily. il;ies . . lille',„to,',;• ................. : 0 c Jackson, b Buttress 14 44,1 b 1 • .. ............... 0 ) W 1 ' ..... .. ... 14 :.t4l ........................ i'Vvittertrias_t PETERBOROUGH. 11,','!selt son er !c Wisden, b Hillyer li "lag b ''" t 4 - 41., b Wisden 0 4r tt 4 4 , e ll e illy er . 6 li, tact, t , ~._ hatterton b Clark ... 4 Vi T iele, °l-I .!! l Yer .. : ..... At'loebs.‘qr'de, :",.. 1 1x . , b Mynn 19 ti e :"ore , rellx, b Hillyer 4 iJtir ii'„e‘Aatterton, b Martingell .......19 :,`...,11. s i Me . , b Martingell 7 %: Le ,. t e44 - I ;c si les, Lsq , b Hiliyer A,,,Kimis,vallyer Vir`.giiii th - sq , b Hillyer It: Nay er 'tin Out ... .. .... ... o trxWeit i !,' Hillyer otle r : b Liilly„ I,'-ehost, Martingell 4' wood: , c Felix, b Martingell t'aeemoard, b Martingell 1 4 . , 4 ,l)te th j, b Hillye e Q. k'Aot, , e3 r , b Hillyer g ita bit ,, e, j ot e o l u x t , b Martingell 4 4' leg byes 2 , wide 3 ... 1 ... 2 ... 3 Second Innings. Total l5 Itt kh , "Olg P 1,4 t. lIRA.MSIIILL, WITH SHERM AN 1 t Nt AND GYsTON. the t il t% % IN n,,,,1, 11 clubs w as 01 - 4,,,i ; mta ild --eve., between the above . ' 1 ilZ b lt ,:"4Y l ast, on the Reading Ground, _ when tll.theisli"°4l!4.ain' victoriou.s baying ;1 s• and at the close 11'14 kris, qti m in e t li b e ei first e i a n i t l i: d g ;even headed h i wickets to o 4i tli e b t Of :till'. This m ng atch brought together a large Ittititiet'qing friends from all parts of the 4 ) cuta ties. ,N 'AN ,;-------___________ PARISH Ot 41„-tz , IN THE P— mtttliosttitidi k'iteli OF WAKEFIELD. ti th 'kei t Y evening this town was the scene . of the t kti e N rlt e "lent in consequence of the carrying out kill 6 „ ) i'lt, 4. 11 „ 4 of the Rihttiond Ecclesiastical Court ktrlti "sePh Rorner, sen., corn-merchant and mo st 4 004tiqtan pfhs 191,,,at_ apw.ards.of seventy years of age, 1 th t i! I llt e I.,"erned inhabitant of the town. Some I,l'ta4 'vtiketss Vernandez, whose brother is lesse , e .. Vtl4:io! re2_ll solie mills, was receiving the ad - q N,4 "Dectable merchant of the town, but . S'll,Mez • 4 14thEr abruptly broken off, and Miss e.4ate,s4elati,tediately l eft her home, and . proceeded ' 4 Ti s la tki ,tear she took up her residence for a 444141itikt141.h-.4elletoflll reports speedily followed upo . n the 'tie4i. (l 4 k °th era , the match being broken w a s M 4 ,Ilopt„„19"0 repeated these rumours was M . krit t ' 4 cei t nSt *" Fernsho appears to have said to a e, ti iss ndez had gone away from home Nit l'. e o 4 °ll being called on for his authority Mr. st‘Yas i ns ,. not or would not *lye it. Consequently a lil l , ‘ I N ~, gtia ted a him in 411()Iiiourt,arld would him 6 the Richmond Eccle slto q thi s _, the judgment of the Court was that_ Stit st : 4 4l p s . 111)' perform penance in the vestry of bit I%'deviate obtireb, and there and then read a re to al ttlijlli 4 Nvhi ' and apology of and for the slander, ett prot* Were to be dictated by Miss Fer klae:l4 to t r * i Alr. Uorner is an Independent in voil telt to k r.. strs ,v,.accus opposer of churchra ! 1 hi ma vs" aubmission to the Episcopal 11444Ar1y piling, Doing bighlY re' Total 133 spected in this district a very large concourse of per sons assembled round Mr. Horner's residence at an early hour this mr)rning, and at the appointed hour form,d a long and imposing procession to the church. with Mr. Horner at their head. At the door of the church one of Mr. Horner's sons entreated the sym pathisers—w'nose, cheering, cllpping of hands, and waging of hats and t!andkerchiers had been unbouLded —to retire, for the sake of his father,: as well as out of respect to the day. Notwithstanding this ap peal, and the fact that a he.ivy rain was falling, the thousands who had assembled remained quietly in front of the church until the completion of the F.- nance, which was performed in the presence of the churchwardens, and selected friends of both parties, and then the whole reformed and returned with Mr. Horner to his home. Here, from an adjoining win cow, a long paper was read, detailing the facts of the charge and trial. Many cheers were given during and after the perusal of this document; and then, at the earnest entreaty of Mr. Horner's family, the vast assemblage dispersed. There was a large body of police present during the whole proceedings to keep order, but no attempt at disturbance took place, though the utmost excitement still prevails through out the towr. THE TWEED RAILWA Y VIADUCT .. _ This msgnific, nt structure spans the broad valley of the Tweed at Berwick, and completes an important link in the chain of railway communication between London and Edinburgh by the East coast. It forms the northern extremity of the York, Newcastle, and Berwick Railway ; and in magnitude of construction and grandeur of design is not only the greatest work on that line, but is, perhaps, one of the most remark-. able architectural achievements of modern times. The Tweed viaduct connects the York, Newcastle, and Berwick Railway with the North British line, thus forming, with the other railways having a con nection with them, an uninterrupted communication from London to Aberdeen. The foundation stone of this noble structure was laid on the 15th of May, 1847, without any public ceremony. Th 9 viaduct consists of 28 circular arches, each of 61 feet 6 inches span, springing from lofty piers 8 feet 6 inches broad at the narrowest point. One-half of the arches span the river—here a broad and beautiful stream—and the remainder are built on the neighbouring land, south of the Tweed. The total length of the bridge is 2,160 feet, and its greatest height, from the bed of the river, 126 feet 6 inches, including the para pets. Its breadth between the parapets is 24 feet, allowing a double line of railway to be laid. The viaduct is built entirely of stone, with the exception of the inner part of the arches, which is brick, laid in cement. There are about one million and a quarter cubic feet of masonry in the structure; and two mil lion and a half of bricks have been placed in the arches. The greatest depth of the water, at high tide, is twenty-three feet. The design of the bridge is elegant; and the para pets are adorned on the outside by miniature corbelled arches. One-half of the viaduct—that which spans the river—is in a straight line ; and the other half curves to the east, on a radius of half a mile towards the south side. The roadway has an incline of lin 200, rising towards Berwick. The piers of the bridge, which are protected by handsome cutwaters, are carved up perpendicularly, and are narrowed near the spring of the arch, by means of Offsets. The parapets and springs of the arches are of polished stone, but the rest of the masonry is only rough hewn. The ap pearance of the arches is extremely graceful. The Tweed viaduct, formally to be opened by her Majesty to-day, is perhaps the largest stone viaduct in the kingdom. Some similar structures may be longer, but less in height, and others may be higher, but not of such length. The last arch of this mag nificent bridge was keyed on the 26th of March, 1850, by the wife of the resident engineer. A single line of rails was opened for public traffic on the 20th of July last, and the other line, on the east side, is to be opened to-day, for the first time, by her Majesty. The bridge is secured at each end by substantial abutments ; and in the centre there is another abut ment, less in size than the other, dividing the arches into two sides. When one-half of the arches had been erected, it was considered desirable, for the ac commodation of the traffic, to erect a temporary bridge across the river, without waiting the com pletion of the stone viaduct, so as to avoid the un certainty of the river operations. This temporary timber viaduct was about 1,200 feet in length, and of the same height as the permanent bridge, which it joined at the fourteenth arch. Workmen are now engaged in the removal of this singular structure. The quantity of timber used in the' construction of the stone and timber bridges was not less than 300,000 cubic feet. The foundations of the permanent viaduct now completed were of a very expensive and difficult cha racter. In the execution of the coffer-dams, Na smyth's patent steam-piling engine was used with great success. Two of these were at work night and day, as well as an engine of 50-horse power, for pumping the water out of the dams. Piles have been extensively used for securing a stable foundation, the ground principally being loose sand and gravel. No less than two years were spent in driving the piles and laying the under masonry. The large embankment at the south end of the bridge, five-eighths of a mile in length, and in some places sixty feet high, completes the junction of the Tweedmouth with the Berwick station, making a total distance of one mile. It contains upwards of 700,000 yards of earthwork. The contractor at one time employed 2,000 men in the various departments of his contract. The entire cost of the viaduct, amounting to about 200,0001., has been borne by the York, Newcastle, and Berwick Railway Company. Her Majesty is expected to christen the structure, " The Royal Bor• der Bridge." MESMERIC MEDICINE IN PARIS. In Paris, for the last few years, another system, heterodox both in faith and practice, has prevailed, and arrived at such a pinnacle of imposture, that the authorities have been forced to interfere, and put it down by the strong arm of the law. Need I say that I allude to the practice of medicine by the somnam bulists. It was, in truth, an agreeable profession, and withal easy, being practised for the most part by a number of young ladies, who, having been rejected at the Conserve tory of Music, took up the art of " nervous and lucid clairvoyantes." 01 nervousness there was little, for a more brazen set of nymphs could not be found ; but their lucidity was immeasur able ; for, not content with seeing round a corner or through an iron pot, they looked into the other world, and held delightful conversation with your deceased parents. All of a sudden, in fact, and as by miracle, was the art of somnambulism applied in the happiest manner to all the wants of society in general, and to medicine in particular. For the former the lady herself suf ficed ; for the latter she was aided, " horresco rife rens," by some young physician, who played the double part of accomplice and lover. For a long time affairs flourished. The fee was ten francs, and the number of curious " legion." Every one wanted to be informed about everything. For the trifling sum of t( n francs were you cured of a mortal disease, or informed of the precise spot in which millions lay buried. " Dig deep enough," was the only condition annexed. A demoiselle, named Virginie, is among the most celebrated of our somnambulists—chiefly consulted by our ladies in an interesting situation. It was she who announced the other day the delivery of Queen Isabella of a dead Prince. Tbe error, you see, was only one of time ; but she made a more grievous one shortly since. One of our most celebrated dandies, who is at the same time a hunchback, consulted her the other day. The fluty voice of the dwarf led her astray, and laying her finger on the " bosse," she in formed the astonished dandy that he was enciente. But the " forte " of these ladies is the dis covery of thieves. For ten francs Madame Jose phine (extra-lucid) will describe the man who picked your pocket. With such a rare quality, thiet-tekers, lawyers, and judges became use less. It was an economy of several millions to the state. The Attorney-General got jealous, let loose his myrmidons, and caged all the aforesaid ladies, lucid, extra-lucid, and triple X-lucid, together with the medical men who had lent their names to the imposture. The latter are to be prosecuted as accomplices in swindling; the ladies for the illegal practice of medicine. One of the most remarkable and not-to-be-explained circumstances of this case, is that not one of the lucid ladies recognised the police magistrate, who was charged with the duty of drawing up the proces-verbal, and then arresting the culprit. They were all seized in full consultation. One extra lucid, indeed, mistook the commissary of police for a patient, and demanded ten francs, with a lock of his hair. Unluckily the representative of the law wore a wig. Many medical men, of whom we had judged better things, are implicated in this unfortunate tran saction, and, unless chance favour them, will be se verely punished, for the scandal has been great. No one will regret their fate.—Medical Times. FUNERAL OF THE EX-KING OF FRANcE.—Yes•. terday morning. at nine o'clock, the body of this illustrious personage was deposited in the leaden coffin to contain the remains. The whole of the family, with the Abbe Guille, &c., were present, and the coffin was hermetically sealed. This coffin will be placed in one covered with crimson satin. CHESTEII AND HOLYHEAD RAILWAY.--Traffic for the Week ended Aug. 25, 1850 : - C. and H. Main Line, 3,466/. 6s. 2d. ; Mold, 119/. 2s. sd. ; Steam-boats, 3461. Bs. 4d. ; Total, 3,9511. 16s. lid. We have several large vessels in the Bight cliseharg irg timber, from America, for Messrs. Ward and Follett, the crews of which are liberally discharging their cash amongst the inkeepers and others. They are getting on as fast as time will admit, most of them having to make a second voyage across the Atlantic.—rlymoutkGazette. TUE HAGUE, AUGUST 27.—L01a Aiontea has just arrived lute.—iitatdesblad, THE ROYAL VISIT TO CASTLE HOW A RD. CASTLE HOWARD, AUG. 28.—The weather, which throughout yesterday was wet, stormy, and disagree able, has cleared up this morning, and though there has been a smart breeze blowing, her Majesty hai been enabled to see the beauties of Castle Howard in all the advantageous lights which sunshine And a clear sky impart. She had hardly arrived yesterday evening when darkness closed in, and though the rain had almost ceased, every object looked dismal, except the lights gleaming from the windows of the royal banquet room, and from the lofty cupola of the dome surmounting the centre of the building. At the din ner covers were laid for 35, and among the company present, besides her Majesty and Prince Albert, were the Countess of Carlisle, and Lady Mary Howard, the Duchess of Sutherland and Lady Constance Leveson !Gower, Mr. C. IV. Howard, M.P., Captain E. G. Howard, M.P., and Mrs. How ard, Master Howard (heir presumptive to the title arid estates of the Carlisle family, the Hon. W. F. Lascelles and Lady Caroline Lascelles, the Hon. F. and Lady E. Grey, Mr. Prescott and Mr. Prescott, jun., Viscount Clifden, the lion. J. A. Ellis, Lady Dover, the Hon. Miss Ellis, the Hon. Miss Diana Ellis, Lord Dufferin (Lord in Waiting), the Marchioness of Douro (Lady in Wait ing), the Hon. Miss Lennox (Maid in Waiting), Colonel the Hon. C. B. Phipps, Colonel the Hon. Alexander Gordon, Sir George Grey, Sir James Clark, Major Trench, and General Sir W. Warre. Froth an early hour this morning groups of visi tors, most of them country folk, began to assemble in the park, their movements along the avenues and over the greensward giving to the whole scene a very ani mated appearance. The stables where the royal equipages were collected formed an especial object of attraction, and all the ornamental edifices with which the grounds abound came in for their due share of inspection. The principal group of spectators formed in line along the roadway opposite the north front of the castle, and here they waited till the royal visitors should make their appearance out of doors. Their patience was somewhat , taxed. Her Majesty and the Prince breakfasted at ten o'clock, and about eleven walked for some time in the private grounds and woods on the south side of the castle. Here several trees were planted by the Queen to commemorate her visit to Castle Howard. Her Majesty in the course of the morning visited the principal apartments of the mansion, and expressed her admiration of the many interesting and valuable works of art which they con tain. Among other objects, one, which I omitted to notice in my letter yesterday, is the pillar from which the Pythoness delivered her responses-in the Temple of Delphi. It. is about three feet in height, and a plain round block of sandstone without ornament of any kind. An additional interest attaches to this curious relic of Greek mythology from the fact that it was presented to the Carlisle family by Lord Nelson, whose glorious victories are commemorated by a small but not inelegant pillar raised on the grass-plot which occupies the hollow space left by the semicircular form of the castle on its dorth front. At 12 o'clock the royal party visited the cricket ground, and witnessed for some time the play of the Castle Howard Club while engaged in that truly national sport. The Earl of Carlisle is particularly fond of this game, and the spot devoted to it in the park being surrounded by an amphitheatre of noble trees and ornamented by flags and tents, has a very pretty appearance. About 2 o'clock luncheon was provided in the castle for a party of 70, and after it the royal visitors proceeded to inspect the fine herd of short-horned cattle with which the park is stocked, and upon the merits of which Mr. Henderson, the Earl's land-steward, feels a very natural and laudable pride. The stock of cows deserve especial praise for their symmetrical proportions and evident purity of breed. A catalogue of them which I have seen records their names and descent with a care and particularity worthy of the College of Heralds, and not inconsistent with that regard for "blood" which, if justifiable in any family, ought to be so among that of the Howards. At 3 o'clock her Majesty and the Prince drove round the park, and admired the splendid prospects and the stately avenues with which it abounds. There are many noblemen's seats, the grounds round which display yvidences of a more active superintendence and a more expensive outlay, but there are few with a richer variety of scenic effects dependent upon the natural beauty of the woods, and the fine undulating sweep of the land. The whole proceedings of the day were of the most quite, unostentatious character, and in complete keeping with the privacy which her Majesty wishes to preserve in visiting Castle Howard. So little formality was there that the crowds of visitors flocking there to catch a glimpse of the Queen, and who during the morning kept respetfully at a distance, in the after part of the day occupied, in the form of a well-conducted mob, the en- tire approach to the castle, up to the very steps of the main entrance. Her Msjesty was received wherever she went with every sign of loyal at tachment. The number of people assembled was very considerable, but not so barge as to produce the tumultuous character of a town demonstration of loyalty.— Times. THE SUBMARINE TELEGRAPH BETWEEN DOVER AND CALMS. STRAITS OF DOVER, WEDNESDAY EVENING. The interesting experiment of :inking submarinely with success the electric telegraph between this pert and Calais, and which is destised to form the future key for instant communicaion with the European continent, was practically commenced this morning, at half past ten o'closk, at which hour the Goliah steam-ship, provisioned for the day. and with a crew of some thirty men, was brought under weigh within the harbour. There were on board, Dr. Reid, Mr. J. C. Wollaston, C.E., Mr. Crampton, C.E , Mr. J. Edwards, Captain Beer, and several scientific gentlemen, with many persons on the pier to see the convoy start. The Goliub rode out to the Government-pier, with her telegraphic tackle and apparatus on board, under a calm sea and sky and a favouring wind. The connexion between the 30 miles of telegraphic wire, 1-10th of an inch in diameter, and encased in a covering of gutta percha, the thickness of a little finger, and which was coiled round a large cylinder or drum amidship 15 feet by 7, was then made good to 300 yards of the same wire enclosed in a leaden tube on shore, to prevent its being bruised by the shingle on the beach, and to enable the experimenters, as they proceeded out to sea, to send communications on shore. The vessel being fully under weigh steamed out at the rate of three or four miles an hour into the open sea in a direct tract for Cape Grincz, twenty-one miles across the channel, the nearest landmark to the English coast, and lying midway be tween Culais and Boulogne. The wire weighed five tons, and the cylinder two. The vessel was preceded by Cap tain Bullock, R.N., of her Majesty's steam-ship Wid geon, who accompanied the experimenters as a pilot, and who had caused the track of the navigation to be taken to be marked out by a succession of bouys, surmounted with flags, on the whole route between the English and French coasts. The operation of paying out the thirty miles of wire commenced on a signal to the sailors to " Go a head with the wheel, and pay out the wire," which was continuously streamed out over a roller at the stern of the vessel, the men at every sixteeenth of a mile being busily engaged in rivetting on to the wire square leaden clamps or weights of from 141 b. to 241 b. and which had the effect of sinking the wire in the bottom of the sea, which ou the English coast commences at a depth of thirty feet, and goes on varying from that to 100 and 180 feet, which latter, or thirty tathoms, is anywhere the greatest depth. The whole of the casting out and sinking was accom plished with'great precision and success, owing to the favourable state of the day. Various interesting salutations were kept up hourly during the progress of submerging the wire between the gentlemen on board and Messrs. G. and W. Brett, the original promoters of the enterprise. The only conjec tured difficulty on the route was at a point in midchan nel called the Ridge, between which and another ine quality, called the Varne, both well known and dreaded by navigators, there is a deep sub-marine valley, surrounded by shifting sands, the one being seventeen miles in length and the other twelve, and in their vortex, not unlike the voracious one of the Goodwin Sands, ships encounter danger, lose their an chors, and drift, and trolling nets of fishermen are fre quently lost. Over this, however, the wire was success fully submerged below the reach, it is believed, of either ships' anchors, sea animals, or fishing nets. The re mainder of the route, though rougher on approaching the coast of France, was accomplished cleverly but slowly; but, as the expedition had not reached its desti nation to enable our correspondent to announce the gratifying fact under the bottom of the sea by tele graph, and thence by th e last ex p ress from Dover at . eight o'clock, he will be compelled to postpone it until such time thereafter as the Goliah shall have reached Cape Grinez. (BY SUBMARINE TELEGRAPH.) CAPE GRINEZ, COAST 4 , F FRANCE, HALF-PAST EIGHT, P M. The Goliah has just arrived in safety, and the com plete connexion of the underwater wire with that left at Dover this morning is being run up the face of the cliff ; cu mplimentary interchanges are passing between France and England under the strait and through it, for the first time. The French mail, ut mos est, may not arrive at Dover at the time of going to press ; but, in a short time, on the necessary arrangements being com plete, Paris news and closing prices at the Bourse will be communicated by a mail that sets time and detention at defiance. --- PRINCE A LBERT'S BIRTII-DAT.—Monday being the anniversary of the birth-day of his Royal Highness Prince Albert, a royal salute was was fired from the Castle guns, in celebration of the occasion. His Royal Highness has completed his thirty-first year.— Scotsman. DEATH FROM LOCK JAW.—Last night Mr. Lang ham, deputy coroner, held an inquest at the Plough Tavern, Carey-street, Lincoln's Inn-fields, on the body of Richard Wilmot, aged 37, a stableman, living at 19, Shire-lane, who died from lock-jaw. About a week since the deceased, who was in a good state of health, received a puncture in one of his toes, through a rusty nail penetrating his shoe. The wound festered, and a few days afterwards he went to King's College Hospital, where he had it lanced ; the wound healed, but on Monday . he was seized with symptoms of lock jaw, and on the following day he was remove d to the hospi tal, where be expired. Verdict, " Died from tetanus, pro duced by a puncture tram a rusty nail." LITERATURE. IN 3IEMORIAIII. By Ayrcd Tennyson. Although its authorship is not in any way acknow ledged upon the title-p age o f "I n M ernor i atu " it has already become so well known throughout the reading community, that we here mention it without the slightest hesitation. To affect any doubt upon the subject would be to assume in the shallowest manner an air of critical discernment. Not but that the present effusion contains in every stanza abundant evidences of those poetic beauties which could alone have emanated from the genius of Mr. Tennyson. Indeed we cannot remain for an instant dubious as to whether under any circumstances we should not our selves have detected that delicate sensibility, that melodious diction, and that all-abounding daintiness of metaphor which have acquired for our author the recompense of his perennial popularity. All oppor tunity, however, of revealing in this way our appre ciation of his peculiar gifts was denied to us by the rumours which traced the present volume to his in tellect, even prior to the day of its publication. It has consequently so happened that almost from the first moment of its appearance the public have been more or less aware of the occasion in which have originated these exquisite poems, modestly and touchingly en titled "In Memoriam." From the circumstance of their being preceded by a date and certain initials, it has been surmised that they are commemorative of the death, in 1833, of Arthur Henry Hallam, a son of the distinguished annalist. As a bosom friend of the de ceased, and, what is yet more, as his intended brother in-law, mourning over that untimely dissipation of so many beautiful visions of the hereafter, Mr. Tennyson has raised this elegiac song of plaintive and most tender recollections. Since the hour when Milton, under the pressure of a like calamity, la mented over the ashes of "L yc id as ," or ra ther since the time when Shelley chaunted his sorrowful , eulogiums above the Roman grave of " Adonais," no such lovely and harmonious strains of anguish have been audible among the various music of our litera ture. In this masterpiece of poetic composition Mr. Tennyson has caught his inspiration directly from the spirit of Erato, from that lyric muse whose influence is diffused so unstintingly among her nobler and truer votaries, giving eloquence indiscriminately to the ploughman and the priest, to the ascetic and the voluptuary, to Burns weeping for his Mary, to Petrarch at the tomb of Laura, to Abelard in the cloister, and Rousseau in the orchard. Unlike many of his precursors, however, in this school of rythmical oratory, Mr. Tennyson has only articu lated thoughts of the ,most unaffected grace and purity while raising his voice in the accents of posthumous adulation. Throughout so many hundred verses it is, in . truth, surprising to detect not the smallest vestige of wilful eccentricity, not the most momentary indul gence of the merely meretricious. The ideas rise spontaneously to the imagination of the poet, as spontaneously as the tears well up from the depth of an agonizing memory. Everything, more over, is in unison with the sadness of the commemo rated bereavement. Even the stanza selected by the cultivated and discriminating taste of Tennyson, al though at the first somewhat unpalatable from its monotony, becomes, from the very fact of that mono tony, so congenial in its resonance with the one theme—the one ever-recurring and inexorable regret, that it ends by assuming to itself a tone of irresistible fascination. A stanza of four lines rhyming, not al ternately, but the second with the third and the first with the fourth—it is strange to find what varying melodies may be drawn from that restricted chord, the sustained vibration of which thrills to the innermost recesses of our suscepti bility. Throughout its every sound we may hear the voice of the poet rising and falling in ac cordance with the rise and fall of his emotions, now sinking into dejection, now soaring on the wings of fancy to the height of his consolatory conjectures : all the while the rhythm throbbing like the pulsa tions of his heart, measured, warm, and uninterrupted. Of the exqusite simplicity of the whole effusion we cannot speak in terms of too earnest admiration. Our meaning in this particular may be recognised at a glance, through the following eloquent syllables ad dressed to the Divinity in the impassioned tones of supplication : Thou wilt not leave us in the dust: Thou =cleat man, he knows not why, He thinks he was not made to die; And thou bast made_him: thou art just. What though the whole of these brief elegiac poems, written under the bumble inscription "In Memo riam," are designated by their gifted author - Wild and wandering cries, Confusions of a wasted youth; not such will they be esteemed by those among their readers who have had their own hearts tormented by the pangs of unavailing lamentation. To all such there Will be at once perceptible a meaning in pas sages to others beyond the reach of comprehension. In their appreciative judgment the chaos of misery will resolve itself into orbits of comfort and cycles of consolation. The gist of whatever solace is here offered by the poet to his brothers in ilfiliction may be found embodied in this ejaculation to the Godhead— Forgive my grief for one removed, Thy creature, whom I found to fair. I trust he lives in thee, and there I find him worthier to be loved. What a world of tenderness and admiration is com pressed into that second line which we have italicised ! What noble sentiments those to actuate the poet in the expression of his grief— . I trust he lives in thee, and there I find hint worthier to be loved. Chequered as the sensations of alternating woe and serenity consequent upon the ex perience of some grievous calamity, the poems, in which our distinguished author here ex presses his suffering over the loss of his beloved friend and companion, fluctuate from the wildest sorrow to the calmest resignation. Hence, from their extra ordinary variety of mood, they constitute no un worthy study for the psychologist. Their philosophy, ever pure and lofty, elevates the soul of the reader to the humanizing atmosphere of religious meditation. Their style, ever natural and symmetric, bewitches the ear with its terse anti variable modulations. From first to last the poet speaks with a sense rather of his subject than of himself, with an eye rather to what he would say than to how be should say it. Seldom, if ever, have we observed the individuality of any writer so entirely merged into the theme of his pro duction, his self-consciousness being altogether absorbed by his consciousness of a supreme misfortune. It were frivolous to attempt anything like a systematic analysis of a work of such infinite delicacy both of design and execution. All that can be attempted in the way of criticism is en allusion to the predomi nant characteristics of th e per f ormance , w h e th er ob jectionable or meritorious. At once, therefore, we would transcribe the subjoined stanzas as a specimen of the severe grandeur, almost amounting at times to sublimity in the expression of sadness, for which the eorins remarkable. We know no of without a sound, deep and breathless serenity more. book, Cona s tr i king m occasions, isptihcetuma; than the following : Calm as to suit a calmer grief, • And only thro' the faded leaf The chesnut pattering to the ground: Calm and deep peace on this high weld, And on these dews that dreneh the furze, And all the silvery gossamers That twinkle into green and gold: Calm and still light on yon great plain That sweeps with all its autumn bowers, And crowded farms and lessening towers, To mingle with the bounding main: Calm and deep pease in this wide air, These. leaves that redden to the fall; And in my heart, if calm at all, If any calm, a calm despair. Thereupon the poet harmonizes the sense of his own individual bereavement with the almost oppressive stagnation of the hour and the season : Calm on the seas, and silver sleep, And waves that sway them elves in rest, And dead calm in that noble breast Which heaves but with the heaving deep. All his matchless powers of description are lavished upon [the pages of " In Alemoriatn," thou g h ever unobtrusively and incident all y . Who but Mr. Ten nyson among our young peels could paint at o nce with such verbal brevity a nd su gg estive amplitude ? Makes daggers at th e As where speaking of the winter solstice, w hen ice sharpen'd eaves : Where be mentions a twosomes evening, w h en brushing ankle-deep in flowers, We heard behind the woodbine veil The milk that bubbled in the pail, And buzzings of the honied hours: or, again, where he exclaims— () sound to rout the brood of cares, The Th e gust th at roundht card flew, l And tumbled half the m ellowing e n dew, ng cojres P u ears up at will With onef e 1i s w eep jtio of scythe in morning u s phrase he n a whole u p in vistas of inter minable beauty. It is in th is felicitous manner that he talks p anora ma, ef . ,inimitable correctness, as descrip tivean expression of through the atmosphere of a of scenery viewed winhing thro' the heat, The landscape summer noonday. One . kindred epithet would have t with it • in our remembered having already me , . Princess. ' It is where he author's medley of the " , . startled us into an exclamation o f delight, but that we speaks of the " dewy-tassell d wood." Occasionally, .can e n si o t t io r n id ; h e i e mself of a fa vouritemental to the purity and it is tru e m , Such blemishes ne where he completeness of his ' Fompimilies as the introduces:such fantastic( - 'IR vertheless are so minute in alSinnrerTiseinnn,YdseDitiri . . their character, and so seldom detected, that they only serve when neon eaves of wearied eyes.. tered to mirk the egroUnding bertuties of the effusion ; such beauties as the name given to the period immediately preceding death— the low dark verge of life, The twilight of eter❑al day." Similar in brilliancy, and kindred in character to the last-mentioned, is that metaphor of— That deep dawn beyond the tomb When, clear from marge to msrge shall bloom, Tl,e eternal landscape of the past. How happy, again, is that mention of two lovers— Their meetings made December June, Their every parting was to die ! And that record of— - songs, and deeds, and liver that lie Foreshortened in the tract of time ! Sometimes, but unfrequently, the rhythm is halting, the word spirit" being always, instead of remaining a dissylable, so compacted into a monosyllable as to suggest the unpoetic sound of " spiet"—vide pp. 115, 119, 134, 136, and 171. Again, this blunder ing of the metre it disagreeably perceptible in two instances, at page 116, in the line— To the uther shore, involved in thee, &c., and in the line soon afterwards— The old bitternesi again and break, &c., the stumbling sound of which may be readily distin guished when read with their context in the original. From such microscopic flaws, however, let us turn to the splendid and pervading merits of " In Memoriam," as a poetic composition. Not ail the humility of the author in his allusion to his performance can diminish our estimate of its many and lofty excellences. 'We can scarcely hearken with patience, therefore, when he observes— These mortal lullabies of pain .May bind a book, may line a box, May serve to curl a maiden's locks; Or when a thousand moons shall wane A man upon a stall may find, And, passing, turn the page that tells A grief—then changed to something else, Sung by a long forgotten mind. Of the sincerity, nevertheless, of these depreciatory remarks upon the volume we are fully satisfied, seeing that the aim of Mr. Tennyson is rather to sing of the virtues of his friend than to widen his own reputa tion. In proof of this we find him saying— I care not in these fading days To raise a cry that lasts not long, And round thee with the breeze of song To stir a little dust of praise. That the merits of the departed companion of Mr. Tennyson were worthy to the full of his affectionate friendship we cannot doubt for an instant after read ing that fine stanza — I leave thy praises unexpresed In verse that brings myself relief, And by the measure of my grief I leave thy greatness to be guess'd. That all such grief, however terrible, is in its influ ence beneficent, even in the care-ravaged judgment of the poet, we can see in a twinkling, when we find him almost in tones of exultation crying out that life is not an idle ore— But iron dug from central gloom, And heated hot with burning fears; And dipp'd in baths of hissing tears, And batter'd with the shocks of doom: Nor are these consolatory thoughts restricted to mere generalities; their truth is applied by the poet to his own affliction, where, alluding to the deceased, he says — 'Whatever way my days decline, I felt and feel, though left alone, His being working in mine own, The footsteps of his life in mine. Meditating at another moment upon our ignorance of all celestial knowledge, he concludes his reverie thus touchingly and beautifully— So runs my dream: but what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry. Perhaps the most exquisitely plaintive couplet in the whole of this lovely composition is where the author speaks of moments When fill'd with tears that cannot jail, I brim with sorrow drowning song. The incredulity felt by all those who have suffered from a similar bereavement is thus tenderly de picted : If one should bring mo this report, That thou hadst touch'd the land to-day, And I went down unto the quay, And found thee lying in the port, And standing, muffled round with woe, Should bee thy passengers in rank Come stepping lightly down the plank, And beckoning unto those they know, And if along with these should come The man I held as half•divine; Should strike a sudden hand in mine, And ask a thousand things of home; And I should tall him all my pain, And how my life had droop'd of late, And he should sorrow o'er my state And marvel what possess'd my brain; And I perceived no touch of change, No hint of death in all his frame, But found him all in all the same, I should not feel it to be strange. It is with a poet's sensibility that Mr. Tennyson re jokes at the burial of his dead friend in English earth, so that - from his ashes may be made The violet of his native land. For, as he himself acknowledges elsewhere, it always seems sweeter to us poor mortals To rest beneath the clover sod, That takes the sunshine and the rains, Or where the kneeling hamlet drains The chalice of the grape 3 of God. Thoughts apart from the immediate subject under celebration are scattered up and down the volume, from amongst which we take almost at random the two subjoined : The baby new to earth and sky, What time his tender palm is prest Against the circle of the breast, Has never thought that " this is I." I cannot see the features right, When on the gloom I strive to paint The face I know; the hues are faint And mix with hollow masks of night. Such are among the treasures of sentiment and ima gination stored up in this casket "In Memoriam," a casket of poetic gems laid by the hand of a distin guished writer on the tomb of a buried friendship. Those who have wept over the death of their best be loved (and alas! which amongst us is without reason of lamentation) will turn again and again to these delicious strains of sorrow ringing round the me mory of Arthur Hallam, and emanating from the golden lyre of Alfred Tennyson. To the sorrow stricken they will prove a vade mecum of condolence, insinuating in the gentlest strains of elegiac regret the precious spoils of solace drawn by genius from the abysses of suffering. Altogether, we are not guilty of any extravagance in terming this volume "In Memoriam" one of those masterpieces of poetic literature which disclose new and unexpected stores of beauty and wisdom at every separate re-examina tion. THE PIMLICo 'BussEs.—When we were at school we used in our themes to select Fabius as our great standing example of delay ; but if we now required a standing ex ample of delay we should select a Pimlico 'bus as our staple commodity. The manner in which these vehicles " drag their slow length along" is something quite unique in its way, and we frequently make the mental observation, that as'speech is often used to conceal thought, so a Pimlico 'bus is resorted to in order to retard a journey. We have heard arithmeticians talk of a fixed quantity, but we never saw the idea so thoroughly carried out as we did the other day, when we noticed a quantity of passengers fixed at Hyde park-corner in a Pimlico omnibus. Shakspere talks about somebody having been " fixed as great Atlas' self," but we must say for the Atlas omnibuses, that we never saw one of them "fixed" for any considerable time; and if the Bard of Avon had said "fixed as great Royal Blue's self," he would have approached much nearer to our modern notions of a fixture. It is true that the public has its remedy—as well as its threepence—in its own hand,:and,it would do well to discourage the stagnant omnibuses by declining to ride in them. We can only say, that• If we saw an omnibus what wouldn't go, Do you think we'd enter it ? No, no, no, We'd take out a summons, and cry, " So, 50, Your pulled up, Jarvey 1" It seems that the officers of the Blues—that is to say, the conductors—are not remarkable for knowing how to conduct themselves, however expert they may be in conducting their vehicles. It is a pity there is no academy for a cad in want of a stock of good manners. It is true we cannot expect much civility to be thrown into the bargain, when the fare is only threepence, but we had rather ride a shorter distance for our money than go further and fare worse at the hands, or rather at the tongue, of the conductor. —Punck. COLLISION 'ON THE RIVEB.—GRAVESEND, AUG. 28.— . -About four o'clock yesterday afternoon, the tide being at the time nearly full, and it blowing a gale from the south-west, a collision took place in Northfleet Reach be tween a brig, laden with corn from the Baltic, and proceed ing up the river, and an empty collier running down. The damage done to the collier was such as to cause her to be at once run on shore on the Essex side, where, in a few minutes, she filled with water, the tide being still flowing. The brig kept on her tack to this side, and was brought to anchor close to the shore Letwcen Rosherville-pier and Pit cher's dockyard, at Is.lorthfleet. The men were kept working at the pumps for several hours, when at low water her damage was partially repaired so as to enable her to be kept free. The collier on the opposite shore was got off at the next tide, when the damage done to her was also partially repaired, so as to enable her to be brought to this side to undergo the necessary repairs. The cargo of the brig must be seriously damaged. W; are inclined to believe that Major-General Sir John Grey, K.C.8., stands a very excellent chance of being selected for the important command of the troops in the Bombay Presidency, which appointment i s lik e ly t o b ecome vacant by the removal of Lieut.-General Sir William Gomm, K.C.B , to the situation of Commander-in-Chief of the Forces serving in the East Indies. Thirty-seven bottle-nose whales were captured in the Forth, a few wiles above Alloa, en Sunday lot.—Dum. ',fries Courier! THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE NA VY. TO THE EDITOR OF THE TIMES. Sir,—After the Tory Administration had made promotions in peace by wholesale before they quitted office, they left a legacy to their successors in the shape of the following minute:— " Their Lordships having taken into their coasidera tion the state of the half-pay list, and being desirous of operating its gradual reduction in time of peace, "Resolved —That from this date no promotion (except for special brilliant service) shall be made i❑ any rank of commissioned officers (save flag-officers), except in the proportion of one promotion 1 ,r every three vacancies which may be made by the removal b) atb, dismissal,or other causes, of officers from the effective lists of each rank kept at this office; death or court-martial vacancies liable to be filled up by Commanders•in-Chief abroad not being'reckoned.' What, Sir, is the true meaning of this minute ? Simply that the vacancies of one in three are the sole patronage of the First Lord, and that if an officer distinguishes himself he must he promoted by the board. Practically we all knew, before this minute was that the First Lord promoted whom he pleased, though occ3sioredly ell officer, for long and distinguished services, slipped in ; but this minute is an open avowal of the fact, and when I mentioned it in the House I was answered by the senior naval Lord, " and little enough too." Now, Sir, I hold that the promotions in the navy are meant for the public good, and not for the private and political friends of the First Lord. I run not simple enough to suppose that, in a Go vernment like ours, interest will not be attended to; hut that ought to be the exception, not the rule ; and I shall here quote a passage from Alison, which is well worth the attention of the present as well as all other Governments : " The aristocracy have, in every period, been deeply implicated in the causes which unhappily so often im pair the efficiency of our naval and military establish ments. Incessant are the effilts which all the holders of Parliamentary influence make during the tranquillity of peace to gut their connexions and dependents elevated to situations which they are frequently incompetent to fill. During the danger and excitement of war Govern ments are compelled by necessity to select the most worthy to discharge momentous and perilous duties, and are enabled by the magnitude of their patronage to do so without alienating their Parliamentary supporters. But under the limited establishments and with the com paratively unimportant duties of peace, this is impos sible. Reductions on all sides then compel a rigid atten tion to influence in the disposal of situations, while the slumber of pacific life affords a prospect of the incapa. city of the persons promoted not being discovered, or not becoming productive of public disaster. During the latter years of a long peace influential imbecility is daily, in the army and navy, mounting men exclusively to the head of affairs; and when hostilities break ou t a large proportion of the officers in high command are generally found to be wholly unfit for the duties devolv ing on them. Thus while democratic clamour starves down the establishment to a ruinously low standard in point of amount, aristocratic cupidity paralyzes the di rection and nullifies the exertions of that part which is allowed to exist. The disaster at the commencement of the war of 1739, during the first thre3 years of the war of 1756, during the whole of the American contest, during the first four years of the Revolutionary contest, and in the dreadful campaign of Affghanistan in 1540, may all be traced to the combined operation of these causes." I shall now examine how the minute was attended to by the gentlemen to whom the legacy was left, and how far those who left that legacy complied with it when they returned to office. On the 27th of February, 1830, the date of the minute, there were on the list of the navy, according to a return furnished to the House of Commons— captains, 858 ; commanders, 918 ; lieutenants, 3,550. In the beginning of November, 1830, when they went out of office, there were— Removals. Promotions. Captains .... 64 Commanders .... 40 Lieutenants .. .... 240 A flag promotion caused the removal of so many captains and commanders, and 176 lieutenants re tired with the rank of commander, but no additional pay ; so, in pi:Ant of fact, there were only 64 lieute nants removed. To the end of 1834, when Sir Jas. Graham and Lord Auckland were at the head of the navy, there were— Removals. Promotions. Captains .... Commanders .... 132 Lieutenants 421 What number were promoted by admirals abroad, and for special services, I have no means of ascer taining, but if the Admiralty abided by the minute, it must have been considerable. In the latter end of 1834 Lord de Grey came into office. He had hardly time to look about him when he was succeeded by Lord Auckland, and he again by Lord Minto. Three First Lords within a year ! Napoleon said one bad general was better than two good ones. I may say with him, one bad First Lord is better than three good ; but, the great IVbig and Tory families who rule this country are of a different opinion. In 1835 there were Promotions. Captains 25 ... 12 Commanders ... 42 17 Lieutenants .. 74 32 From 1836 until September, 1841, when the Tories returned to office, there were— Removals. Captains .. Commanders Lieutenants Removals. ... 187 ... 262 .. 717 Promotions. 138 229 417 The promotions, it will be seen, very much exceed one in three. Syria and China were the excuse for this; bur, in war, no such promotions took place, even for general actions. According to a return furnished by the Admiralty, promotions in war time were as follows : For the battle of the Ist of J une, 33 lieutenants were made commanders. For the Battle of St. Vincent, 16 lieutenants were made commanders. For Camperdown, 14 lieutenants to commanders. Nile, 1 commander to captain, 13 lieutenants to commanders. Trafalgar, 5 commanders were made captains; 28 ieutenants, commanders; 27 midshipmen, lieu tenant!. St. Domingo, 1 commander, 7 lieutenants, 8 mid shipmen. And at the peace promotion 68 commanders, 133 lieutenants, and 861 midshipmen were promoted. When the Tories came into office, in 1841, they found on the Navy List —captains, 701; c3mmun ders, 772; lieutenants, 2,718. They finihhed the year 1841 with a sweeping promotion, making 40 admirals, 53 captains, 93 commanders, and 123 lieutenants. Syria and China again got the credit of this pro motion, though I do not believe a fourth part of those promoted were on either station ; and, if they had all been there, such a promotion was quite un called for. When they went out of office they left on the list, —captains, 728 ; commanders, 853 ; lieutenants, 2,530 ; being an increase of 27 captains and 81 com manders, and a decrease of 188 lieutenants ; so that the very men who made the minute in 1830, before they went out of office, paid no attention to it in the higher ranks when they came back. So much for ruling the navy by a political Admiralty. After agitating the question of a retired list until the session of 1846, the late Sir Robert Peel consented to grant a retired list to old captains. The first plan was fortunately given up, as there was no restriction to length of service, and a much better was proposed, viz., to allow captains of 60 years of age, and within 100 of the top of the list, to retire with the rank and pay of rear-admirals ; but the new board brought forward a plan of their own, not nearly so good, and allowed men of 50 to retire on 11. a day and 18s., and to take their rank as admirals when those of the same standing who remained on the active list became ad mirals ; and when the retired admirals are reduced to 25 they are to have an addition of pay as a reward for having given up 14s. 6d. to receive 1/. and 18s. No thing could have been so absurd ; there is now no encouragement for an old man near the top of the active list to retire. He must, I presume, come in at the bottom of the list of retired captains. The retired list was accompanied by a:promotion of 20 captains to admirals—quite unnecessary ; and the flag-list was limited to 150; 53 captains were made retired admirals, to be reduced to 25 ; and 127 captains retired on 11. and 18s. a day, agreeably to their standing, and they are to be reduced to 100. Had they even stopped here it would have been well, but they made 48 captains, 85 commanders, and 20 lieutenants ; a promotion certainly not contemplated by Parliament when 30,000/. a-year was granted for a retired list. From 1847 to the end of 1848 there were— Removals. Promotions. Captains .. ... 76 ••• 30 Commanders .. 110 ••• 73 Lieutenants .. 285 112 In 1849 there were— Promotions. Captains 20 ••• 12 Commanders .. 36 ••• 33 Lieutenants ... 107 .. 45 It will be seen that the Whigs have not attended to the minute, or rather, when they exceeded it, they called it a special promotion ; but we all know how easy it is to get up special promotions. If am not misinformed, a special promotion was once got up for a vecretary's son of no great service. I do not wish to be parsimonious of promotion, for for when well bestowed it is the main spring of action, but when ill bestowed it is the very reverse. To prevent abuse for the future, I should recommend one promotion for two removals ; that should cover every thing, and if the First Lord had any conscience at all, he would divide those promotions between men who really deserve them and his political friends—no one would complain of that ; but when promot ion . badly given, go it, generally is, it mum grgreat. Removals. in the !service, and brings forward men who are little deservirg of it. . . Sir Francis Barint has shown tolerable discretion in the first year of his administration, and only pro moted 12 captains against 20 removals, 32 common.: ders against 36 removals, and 45 lieutenants against 107. 1 wish I could say he had been equally discreet in his appointments. When the minute was made there were, as I have before stated, 858 captains, 918 commanders, and 3,550 lieutenants ; at the end of 1849 there remain 515 captains, 848 commanders, and 2.221 lietitenants, being a reduction in 20 years of 343 captains, 70 commanders, and 1,329 lieutenants; but if we deduct 200 who were withdrawn at an expense of 30,0001. from the captains' list, there has only been a reduc tion of 143. It is now proposed to keep up the captains to 500, which is quite absurd; they ought to be reduced to half that number, and all the corn , menders and lieutenants unfit for service should be placed en a retired list, and the promotion of one to two be confined to the removals from the active list. Officers would then have a chance of being em ployed, and of k ee pi ng up t h e knowledge of their profession, whereas, according to the present sys tem, it does not come to an officer's turn iu much less than twenty years in the upper ranks ; and this is our state when other nations are doing all they can to give experience to their officers. In the French service officers of a certain age are obliged to retire, and those fit for service are almost constantly employed. If this system is persevered in at the beginning cf a war we shall find our officers without experience opposed to officers who have been in constant practice ; and it is not difficult to foresee the result. I❑ the navy estimates for 1850.51, the wages to seamen and marines were 1,322,959/.; the half-pay and pensions, civil and military, amount to 1,388,6371., being 65,6781. more than the wages of seamen and marines afloat, and this after a peace of thirty-five years ! I have had great difficulty in obtaining the lists of promotions and removals, and I trust they are correct ; if not, the Admiralty ca❑ very easily lay before the HOME a correct statement, and the country will see how far they have complied with their own regulation. I remain your obedient servant, Murchistoun, Aug 25. CHARLES NAPIER. SIR CHARLES NAPIER. When we remember the general enthusiasm with which the appointment of Sir Charles Napier to the chief command in India was so recently welcomed, we may presume that the early and unsatisfactory conclusion of his career in the East will have caused in many minds a feeling of disappointment. It is un derstood that the Indian Government had no alterna tive but to accept his resignation. The refusal or neglect of the Commander-in-Chief to carry out an order of the Government, respecting the regulations of the army, was necessarily followed by a reprimand, which led to his immediate determination to lay down his office. It is greatly to be regretted that an im practicable habit of mind should so often tend to ren der Sir Charles Napier's high and brilliant qualities unavailable to the public service. His intemperate attacks upo❑ some of the East India directors delayed for some months, his appointment to the command ; and they would certainly have prevented its being made at all, if the alarm of the country at the unskil ful conduct and balanced success of the Seikh war, had not induced the authorities of Leadenhall. street to overrule all personal considerations. It appears that a similar ebullition of temper has occasioned his premature withdrawal from office, and the interrup tion of the vigorous changes in the conduct of the Indian army which he is understood to have been bent on accomplishing. It is difficult to judge of the justice of the stric tures which Sir Charles Napier has so freely bestowed on various portions of the army under his command. The India papers are generally warm partisans i❑ matters relating to the civil and military services ; and the late Commander-in-Chief had, in his former period of service i❑ India, incurred more than an or dinary share of hostility among the conductors of the public journals. One of the ablest and most widely circulated newspapers in India no sooner received the announcement of the promotion of the General who had, for years, been denounced in its columns—when conqueror and Governor of Sinde—than it promul gated a report that that appointment had been pur chased by a bribe to one of our London contempora ries. With a minuteness which showed the accu racy of its information, the paper to which we refer specified the exact sum which Sir Charles had paid for the insertion of an article which was supposed to have inspired the Government, and to have overruled the hesitation of the India House. 7,0001. was the exact amount which changed hands in this nefarious transaction; and we only wonder at the moderation of the Indian journalist in abstaining from an account of the sums which must have been paid to the rest of the news paper press, or employed in buying up the general voice of society. When we find, on similar authority, that Sir Charles Napier's judgments were harsh, and his complaints unfounded, we deem it prudent to hesitate before we decide between the conflicting au thorities. It must be confessed that there are peculiarities in Sir Charles's character which, in some degree, weaken the authority of his opinions and statements. He has proved .himself on the Indus a most able general, and in many n field in Europe and Asia a skilful and fearless soldier. He is also—the 7,0001. bribe notwithstanding—unmistakably honest and straightforward. His love of discipline and his determination to do his duty ara tho roughly genuine and unselfish ; but, unfortunately, with a lull share of the vigour and geniva of his race, he has also the fatal facility of language which has so often led his eloquent relative, the historian, into exaggeration and bombast. Some of Sir Charles Napier's dispatches are models of point and vigorous compression ; but his genius is habitually averse to the colourless language of business which best suits an official style. His minutes on courts•martial and general orders are too uniformly pithy and severe. A. negligent colonel or a dissipated subaltern is reproved with an epigrammatic indignation which might have proceeded from Tacitus or Juvenal. It is conse quently difficult to judge of the standard by which he judges the state of the Indian army. If we look at the letter of his minutes, we might fear that it was little better than a rabble, till wo remember how dif ferent its character might appear if its chief, in addi tion to the qualities of a great commander, had not also possessed the genius of a vigorous and eloquent writer. Nevertheless, after making all reasonable deduc tions, we cannot but fear that the dissatisfaction which Sir Charles Napier has so frequently manifested at the condition of his army is, to aconsiderable extent, well founded. It is not unknown that officers of experi ence have confidentially communicated to the home au thorities their unfavourablejudgment of the discipline of the Indian troops. The laxity of former Commanders• in-Chief is said to have left too much ground for the irritation of the last holder of the office ; and there can be no doubt that, in the recent wars, the confi dence of the generals has, in too many cases, been re posed almost entirely in the European regiments. That the Sepoys, when well officered, are only se cond to English soldiers, is an opinion which is en tertained by those who know them best, and which Sir Charles Napier himself has often publicly ex pressed ; but it is certain that the competence of the officers is even more essential to the efficiency of such troops than in the case of an army like onr own. An English infantry regiment would he a formidable impediment to an enemy if all its officers were sud denly removed from their posts ; but in the Indian army the whole machinery is set in motion by the Europeans who direct it, and it stops if they are un equal to their duties. The necessity of mastering a foreign language, and of understanding Oriental habits and feelings, imposes a responsibility on those who command the Sepoys from which the officers of the Queen's army are exempt. It is by no means a matter of boasting that our army has less professional knowledge among its officers than any other in Eu rope. Abundant courage and the spirit of gentlemen torm the ordinary qualifications of our future generals, but, at least for the Indian army, more special fitness is required. Although Sir Charles Napier may have, in some instances, been unjust or excessive in censure, it can not be doubted that his vigorous resistance to laxity and indiscipline has had a useful effect in checking and preventing abuses. It is one of the most urgent duties of the Board of Control and of the India House to select a successor who will direct his attention to the subjects which employed his predecessor. The chief command of India is the most important mili tary appointment in the empire, and one of the most responsible which can be held by any soldier in the world. Such a rank is not a fitting retirement for a favoured veteran, or a subject for a family or official job. A war may prepare itself in India without our notice, as we found to our cost, in two instances, in the Punjaub ; and a weak or incompetent general, even if he does not incur losses as fearful as those of Affghanistan, may destroy the prestige of the Englis h arms by blundering and indecisive contests, At present, else, while there is a reasonable prospect inof peace, a victorious general will have enough to do Therearmy. competent to the task, and it is to be hope d that neither are o r e ffi f () e r e interest nor Army organization List h t the ar e m rs in iff thee e cognition of their claim s.— Chronrcle. carelessness will be allow ed to interfere . with the re- THE LATE ATTEMPT AT MURDER AT GATEHOUSE. —We learn that Dr. Mason, who was so severely wounded by his wife at Gatehouse, on the 17th inst., has been pro nounced convalescent. The unhappy woman is still of course confined in Kirkcudbright prison, and a remit has been made to medical men to inquire into the date of her mind. An equestrian statue of her Majesty is about to be erected in Glasgow, in commemoration of the Royal Tibit 1844• 4• r• THE , 50.