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

"°II.TING INTELLIGENCE. T h e DERBY RACES.-1.4 EDNEsoAv. b e e . h i! t ""rth S ,, lre s of 10 sovs. each, with 50dd h e i d . 41," D.lte of Devonshire, the second to save whom plid e 3 . Ono mile and a hail. (20 Subs., 10 of ~.., R son. each,) kitties sowClthworker, 4 yrr, 7s , 4'h 7uttrd' ld Rose, 4 yrs, 7st 71b ••• 111 vt, Won b 1015 ngth. • - misterfi bi 1 b and 50 added lot t, e a Stakes of 9 ‘ ,s. CAC t 11114 , °,YearB old, the second to save his stake. T.Y.O , ~u os,) ilc,}Jl.,,S,t?.hng' The Cutler ... ... • raillips's La Juive •• — ilea. - . Won by a head. k r. p Ihe Innkeepers' Plate of 601. Two m Er, kErt% Clothworker, 4 yrs, 9st 41b il rlii t°l ' , , Gent ral Sale, 4 yrs, 9st 41b ••• tataia's Jesse, 4 yrs, Bst 6lb Th e Selliag Stakes Won easily. •• of 5 sovs. each, and 30 added k r b ; Rests, one mile. (5 Subs.) 1 ... Ike:i."4% pansey, 3 yrs, 5 , t13 h ••• ••' . 2 itetil ers Lytn e , 6 yrs, B.t. 13:b ... - The IistEGRA,III RACES.— YESTERD tt ' 4 d' (4 the first two days to whicabYt.he.ißonunnthye -14,041,1I'ersiors are limited, was, without exception, bidne2‘ ever issued, and sufficiently vf th 4 of ;he general attendance, and for the f b accounted fur the absence been t oil ) , :olttierity of the ring. had the bill of ir , and 100 good, the fineness of the ttlty'4l43 by the special train from the Waterloo-bridge ae corn . S i Wttiiii have ensured at least a 9 ave ll r r g esp,ets, tier 4,4 Progrananio for this day is, " a h er , in clpdhi"''s events to come off being five in nu is 04 th e Surrey and Middlesex Stakes. Queen'sunners 1 ° hot. ra ce in brats, with the probability of six r m Plate, I , k of th "ae altries are given underneath. __ suffice. . 4 GulatitniThing yesterday a brief retut . 'n.will e tsh ' e sp of 50 sovs , by subscririon of I sovs. si x '.'er three years o'd, 7st; four, Sat 51b; five' , wed, als;;Til a ged, 9st 31b; mares an geldings all the itipe;,"anittees for maidens and winners extra;s,, and , to, h -t te,b `sold for 500 sue.., if demanded, , 4 444 (leterme th C in 185 lir G ,leter's Lit le Ja u c P k,3 yrs, 7st (J. matil2 ) 1851. Two miles. (5 Subs.) ' l hgth;„"eatheote's cby Sir Hercules, out of Dark) 2 ilp, e - " , 3 Yrs. 6st 9lb (Robert Sherwood) 3 kr. 8:”'s cE iipus, 4 yrs, Bst 7th (Reeves)(s,,ir) 4 b iletti n t 4 8841 Rood, 5 yrs, sst 1 flb t Dark 411 iti,1 1 -2 to 1 on Little Jack, and 3 to 1 ;Nth h e ' L , h e race for the last mile was red c a u g c ce s o l t , ie th a e ,Ittrierv`ween Little Jack and Dark Susa 3 min. 'l 4 -Innia length. Rue in 1 , 11, e, g cleverly by a thrtlatetir Stakes of 16 soya. each, SC PITS Old 9st 101 b; four, with 25 added ; li 2t " li illtis a , 4 l a ged, llst 12Ib ; i th °6 r t ee l° t i o v b e s ` t e upper-''' fie added ; the sr cond to se 3tafirtv,eOritihset his stake ; I, 4, ati. to be sold fur 250 sovs., if demanded, &c. •Klker,;l4(l,ri&rs. T Two miles. "ti 4; " '.: .r.scape, 5 yrs (Hr. Berkeley)—walked 50 added, 10f 4"411 Stake f2s soya each, with over. S t 3lb ; wi s4 "or two „ 5 95 , t 71 b ; "it) " -' - r , e ll ett _ Y rs old cubs, CP 4 I lo an rit ; 3 1b and 51b allowed, and the winner m `t 011475. towards expeoses. T.Y.C. kkll's,".'entnnd' bf by Ugly Buck, out 'lt 0 1 il'' Qst 7lb 8 .......... (Flatman) 1 of ( lV 9- ti S r u - ba.l itttlt.ribeetlicoys. . e .. by .. . L ... a . n . ... i 7 co - st, • out of Bellezzs, 2 (Dockeray) ,t . 8 00000 0000000000000000000000000000000000 ( J. Sharp) 3 hetti retna's Jagell Bit7l b . I , l4 tile 1; 1 '1 to - en' 11 - a filly. 's CI n e , I on Marge in Won in a %et ' ° Lengths Jagellon a bad third. Sip, 4 Plate o f 50 . lit, l ; 114e11 ; thr y s o y s o . l , added d 6 a fiat 1 2 t l o b , a four Sweepstakes sit 71 b , fi five "IblBllll-.141(1 aedee9st yrs old mares and geldings allowe kit k e sinner to be sold for 200 soya. Ply 1 ° Ntnee s if to be sold tor less; 1 1 ? 0 1. t o the winner lf. and a a • Itt'ltsko.,_ tho fund. Heats, one mileGe if deman ded, inner to Browne) 1 1 lit: PaynoTtnhta's Reebee Bannoo, 4) rs ( 2 2 Death,' l'irington, 3 yrs (Harding)v. M a nn) 3 3 4 Lady Francis, 5 yrs T Won in a canter. 84 I%)CTURES FOR THIS DAY. , lit 11,41 On Mth •,..* R , ~ -+IDDLESEX STA.KES.--- 5 yrs, Bst V`,/tik,","..ttesalia, 4 yrs, Bst 51b—*Escape, *Repletion, 4 yrs, 7 st 121b 1i ' .I B h, 4 rs Bst—Cheerful, 4 yrs, nit ; 4141 ; 4 Yri,Y7si 61n —*Little Jack, 3 Girl, 73st yrs,2lb Il l g r t ' t, Th e : s t e er ': Yrs, 6st 91b—and *Ballet 4 ailed with an asterisk are expected to 1 41 4 +4 s IN tkpltfiellAlcs.--Heroine, 4 . r yrs 6 — y C ra ti_rb l 9n ia c t l i e e , ug 4 , ken`liti t t h, 2 yrs—Montpensie , ttN' i I;st quis of Conyn g ham, aged. rs—c by Veloei /Pie %t o r I t4TE.--.St. Rosalie, 3 yrs— otettitie 3"14t1Y Geraldine, by Sir Hercules, 4 It).ar'h Susan Swede, , 3 3 yrs- 4 I!ittle Jack, 4 `lood (late an yrs—scap Y e, ra s — y lkitititeo 'Visite), 3 yrs. . yrs -- CE lipus, 4 yrs a, 4 yrs—The ),Lrss y r or zWE EPsTatry.s —C k tb ( tiip h s : e A by Sir Hercules, h o r u is t til o n f Dark Susan, 3 by..34115,r,, Yrs— Hood, 3 )rs. on, 3 it laetsd•Aitts -- Beebee Bunnoo, 4 yrs—Bring' It - lAt. r bi t of ~Y, 5 yrs—Normanton, 4 yrs—Hood, 3 yrs vonyn ham aged. at e 4 81113/ittITING ON THE COURSE. at't Little Rosalie AND DIIEDLESE 2 X_ _ st S TALES. SL . 4 to , 111 Jack 1 sto eg ____. Ise n ortEA YORKSHIRE STAKES. . . _ th, 'lt Stroogbo: Ao "%It to 01. 1 7to 1 apt ebtIMPIGH ST. LEGER. - I ' 4 4' g e ur 20 )I,rus (taken to lags t Bolingbroke (taken) ~t,. 04% to 500/.) as s , i,. 'Re a ,: '0 take 10 to 1 about Beettu atrt 'l'l, tlietnence to-day (Thursday), pty. % a ESC ,'CLES R A CES.—TuEs - e2r.o'clock. A 'wer e *Stakes of 2 sovs. Lae', M a',d rick- ring's Kid. . 15 added (6 4% 40 , a nin three heats by —r. . ves , , Irish 4,, L'kl„ 3. "' (Si h), beating 4 ) re— ilir,t cote, b 4 yrs--Mr. Hot t by% Shareholder, Mr. r. Hargra B-nd's Ar -413, a - eggar• I t ••N • hbuur—Mr. G Ito Ys-, 3. eig Miss Ann., 4 Yr'. , 1 114,,,• l',,, fi ,atd Mr. Bend's . and 25 44 fed' oat „, ° .1 4 Park Stakes of 3 (3 Subs), each, 3wer,7 11 4 dray h -Ale b an d thiee•quarters 12'liecktritN't Yl ar•Holnforth's Wikennt, i,, , , NI ctrii, batinz, ' Mr. Pattison's Gracy, 5 yrs.3rs, 7st 141 1: 1 \ c ' k Buck's Alma , 3 )rs ' 7" one mile ( 3 th , ''''oll s It' i tter e , Stakes of 3 BON.each, Birch's g ieen of ita tie, 4 " 11 iu two beats by Mr. ' 4 4 4 1 Yrs, beati ng e e Colonel Arthur's aged, 5 ''''').........._nsdale's The Drummer, age ‘EV t , . q ... 1 ... 2 ••• ~ ••• 3 CRICKET. T it 0 p ENGLAND v. TWENTY-TWO OF ttatd CERBOROUGH. h.. 141 41 4 / I " , he,, ltla tell was resumed at Peterborough on assemble" On the preceding day, there was an i Tt ikt 7 of n age of spectators. It will be s b a obtained en the I N l kt h lt to ",,acore thit the Twenty-two and Ke t , L o ?l' O a f da ` ti flo Eleven by 23 . on the first inningu, Ne k th e teeeded when time was called in lowering thtrtlng England wickets for 15 runs only. e lose of Tuesda ' Play was as follows : THE ELEVEN. _ - tl tg _ I t . Pb trat / 4 . leit,, I,luttresi:llngs. 4 , i o ) ,_ t ii., ............... 2 q l l it ,, B4 ttr e ' s ' s re3 3 ... ..... 9 1, ) 9 ,1„4'11d 1, ~,. ... ••• ...... 3 ' 4 rti ' , tut Aluley , t p llg el res i .. ...—. 2 I t ea t. I, c A , • .... . ....... 29 ot . ... `thiore b But_ , t , k, 9...„ .. , 0 h';_t ot ,gq, b,, .......... 0 b Tinley .. Ch.,al 4v 2°, t„ . uuttress .... 0 4 l'A — l., C Col 4 . , ,(! tt _- .. email, 454 0 ,_b if:::e.; ........... 20 c Mayers, b Tinley 1 0 Ilietttt; ts q. :) 3 ........ 2 not out t h r, tl cti s c Stnythies, Ye e 1; b0ut.... • •••• ......... 0 c Jackson, b Buttress 14 b, ............. 0 ,i, ') W 1 ...... .. ... 14 "41 .................... .110 Ait t I v eri nastn PE rERBOROUGII. Be ( . l ack so vr, C Wisden, b llillyer 11 ' I N, b n ' E sq., b Wisden .. 14 Hill , e ti ar es t ., C ch 3 r .... ..... .. ...... -...- 6 I', ptt, b ~atterton, b Clark ... 4 I b . i ra t e ,. -4111y er .. 4 l i i t ° e t elw a '; d e , e l '.,ix,., b Alynn .. l9 1 / 4 4 11° 4 c c h 'eux, b llillyer .. 4 or if, atterton, b Martingell ..... .. 19 u gge b Martingell7 toi . smytii,.. G lan es 9 Eeci. b Hiliver 9AI ' b Hilly ' ' 0 A . , ail ; E .er W` - .Sr A i th, N , h Hillyer 1; Mayers t r 3 un out... .. ...... .......... .. (1 4 : ( wt1l, b'p.Flillyer ... F; leer b "liver p' J(.114 Martingell 4; Vieedbwil' C Felix. b Martingell tonso.ard, b Martingell 1 kS et . Deetbin(., b Hillyer 4 1 ,,,a1at ,Y 0 b Hillyer I ,l' hit; ' 'elix, b Martingell '"8 2 ,1 11°t Out eg byes 2, wide 3 Second Innings. Total ls tlt 1 IN v, sHER 11 AN ~,'tlt u• BRAMSHILL. WITH elsy, t l totttr„ AND ROYsTOthNe. tb, oa A,,,,!_iniatch betweei Bending Ground, when * their oilitilitis'wuueraey l a st ', 01! the tor (4 tlB,above clubs was hen i having heade the close 4 , 4 i tli % „ ° t% 16 raa `!"'aln vie innings; and at to go , 44, 4 Atth% s . 10 the first d l iiikb_rae 15.011 time being . cane , hallgehr a 1 kit k 't of ruby. This match broug ht arts of the Lbo etiok t' f• ds from p seven wickets ae 4.4, r ing nen 8 counties. .14111SZAN et IN THE PARISH 4 Ntieltill ke n OF WAKEFIELD. o f the ot t ht .43' evening. this town out 1.4 xcitetnent i c onseq uence of the car rying Court 4004 ,teatet__ _ n con.,eq was killi t alr. Jos eph or the Richmond Ecclesiast i ca l 4 114 P i tt R,,„,Ph Horner, sen., corn -merchantseventy town. Some and ",f t he `since e.,,s,t,cern.?ti inhabitan t of f h brother is lessee .- t 4 t W44,4`4•15S 1 ernandtz, whose ling the a(I . ti lt 4 1 of . iteld solie mills, was rec" , own, but „,. ):4 tit o h ' especttb:e merchant o f th e gown, L i `‘ctiod was rattle broken .p 4 ,. Ez I._ . r abruptly and proceede tioit,'!l4tsnee7.4lediately left her home, 0 , her residence for a ‘411411 4444_4 nere she took up ._and Miss d and tiNb 4,111e1.17•01‘!s reports speed . ilyfollowe d upon t h e 4(.1t.-11 f3thet.:_bi, nthe match d these e g Mr. a frietil:t vl/0414: itlee. rev,phe,a,te have said h t o o tne appears to rubmrookuerns off; iiticoei,itel'.4t kiss pe;nandez had gone away fron . l Mr. tcirt'et hlj),l3°ll being II do n for his authority . a 1-19 4 e.°- '" aOt - "lA' g i ve it. Consequently 1114 ti h Instit,st ,Or W. 011., not.gi h Richmond Eccle he h'4l eNi,t4'eci against him int e that Court was Iv o. (No thi. 'and the judgment of the n the vestry of !EttitZt.ielci 14017 perform penance and a re then read 1 4 te"Qh, delli'..r; scorch'ch and there an for the slander, 11144..01s whieZl, apology of an d . Miss FeF- Lsiiiii,Ss pro,turw're to be dictated n.Y Independent by in psatio„'47-'.aki o a ''' ~ kr. Homer is an . b rch• rates. A - to L. - 34kt:1110113 opposer of c u E iscopal etc lr4 this- b •-• ti t o the .1 3 1 c . rib ~,. .. Au inkio _ ,____ b ig h y I l'etilliqiy olltug, wlng Total 133 spected in this district a very largo concourse of per sons assembled round Mr. Horner's residence at an early hour this nvaming, arid at the appointed hour form-d a long and imposing procession to the church. with Mr. Horn( r at their head. At the door of the church one of Mr. Horner's sons entreated the sym pathisers—whose cheering, clapping of hands, and waving of hats and handkerchies had been unbounded —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 heavy rain was falling, the thousands mho had assembled remained quietly in front of the church until the completion of the p nance, which was performed in the presence of the churchwardens, and selected friends of both parties, end then the whole re- formed and returned with Mr. Horner to his home. Here, front 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 town. THE TWEED RAILWA Y VIADUCT Thi,4mognific , 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 x•rernity of the York, Newcastle, and Berwick Railway ; and in magnitude of construction and grand , ur 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. The 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 bzidges was not less than 300,000 cubic feet. Tne roundations 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 louse 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 mite in length, and in some places sixty feet high, completes the junction of the Tweedrnouth 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 Ro.) al 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 pinnace of imposture, that the atuhurities have been forced to interfere, and but 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." Of 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 sbe was aided, " horresco refe 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. Fur the trifling sum of ten 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 de ad Prince. The 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 ber 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 evciente. 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-takers, 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 bad 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 Abte &c., were present, and the c( ffin was hermetically sealed. This coffin will be placed in one covered with crimson satin. CHESTER AND HOLYHEAD RAlLWAY. — Traffic for the Week ended Aug. 25, 1850: C. and H. Main Line, 3,486!. 6s. 2d ; Mold, 119/. 2s. sd. ; Steam-boats, 346/. Bs. 4d. ; Total, 3,951/. 16s. 11(1. We have several large vessels in the Bight discharg 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.—Plymouth. Gazette. THE HAGUE AUGUST 27.—L01a MOHteS bus just etrriTod hero.-- andelsblad. THE ROYAL VISIT TO CASTLE HOWARD. CASTLE HOWARD,AuG :24.—The weather, which throughout yesterday Wai wtt, stormy, and disagree able, has cleared up this morning, and though there has been a smart breeze blowing, her Majesty ha , 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 (.f 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 Llveson Gower, Mr. C. W. Howard, M.P., Captain E. G. Howard, M.P., and Mrs. How ard, Master Howard (heir presumptive to the title ar;d 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. E Hs, Lady Dover, the Hon. Miss Ellis, the lion. Miss Diana Ellis, Lord Dufferin (Lord in tVaiting), 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. From 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 north front. At 12 o'clock the royal party visited The cricket ground, and witnessed for some time the play of the Castle Howard Club vti hile 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 cf 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 HeraldQ, and not inconsistent with that regard fur " 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 evidences 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 Majesty was received wherever she went with every sign of loyal at tachment. The number of people assembled was very considerable, but not so large as to produce the tumultuous character of a town demonstration of loyalty—Times. THE SUBMARINE TELEGRAPH BET %VEEN DOVER AND CALAIS. STRAITS OF DOVER, WEDNESDAY EVENING. The interesting rxcerirnent of sinking submarinely with success the electric telegraph tetween this port and and which is &stirred to form the future key for instant cemmunica ion with the European continent, was practically commenced this morning, at half past ten o'clock, at which hour the Goliah steamship, 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 persona on the pier t 3 see the cons oy start. The Goliah 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 gutter 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 tune 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 ender weigh steamed out at the rate of three or four miles an hour into the open sea in a direct tract for Cape Grim z, twenty-one miles across the channel, the nearest landmark to the English coast, and lying midway be tween Culsis 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, en 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 frcm 141 b. to 241 b. and which had the c ffe.ct of sinking the wire in the bottom of t he sea, which on 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 fathoms, 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 cf 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 milers in length and the other twelve, and in their vortex, not unlike the voracious one of the Goodwin Sands, ships encounter danger, lose tbeir an chors, and drift, and trolling nets of fishermen ar e 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 corresponaent to announce the gratifying fact under the bottom of the sea by tele graph, and thence by the last express from Dover at eight o'clock, he will be compelled to postpone it until such time thereafter as the Goliah shall have reached Cape Griner. (BY SUBMARINE TELEGRAPH.) CAPE GRINEZ, COAST c F FRANCE, HALF-PAST EIGHT, P H. 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 ; 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 BJurse will be communicated by a mail that sets time end detention at defiance. PRINCE ALBERT'S BIRTH-DAY. —Monday being the ri n e m e a anniversary royalof salute v birt h-day eras was of s fired guns. in celebration of the occasion. His Royal Hi g hness has completed his thirty-first year.— Scotsman. his Royalf!o Highness r Castle DEATH FROM LOCK JAW.—Last night Mr. Lang ham, deputy coroner, held an inquest at the Plough Tavern, Carey. street, Lincoln's Inn-fitldx, on the body of Richard Wilinot, 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, anti 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 removed to the hospi tal, where he expired. Verdict, 4 , Died from tetanus, pro duced by a puncture from a rusty nail." LITERATURE. IN MEMORIAM. By Alfred Tennyson. Although its authorship is not iii any w3Y t" know ledgEd u'on the title- page of "In Memoriam," 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, cf 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 o f t h e h erea f ter , M r . Tennyson has raised this elegi ac song o f plaintive and most tender recollections. Si nce t h e h our w hen Milton, under the pres s ur e o f a lik e ca l a mity, la mented over the a s h es o f "L vc 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 liters-- 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 l i 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, lu 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: Thcu =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 humble 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 :affliction may be found embodied in this ejaculation to the Godhead— Forgive my grief for one removed, Thy creature, whom I food so fair. I trust he lives in thee, and there I find him worthier to be lured. 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 tru:t he lives in thee, and acre Ifind him amnthier 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, evtr 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 an.' 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 he should say it. Seldom, if ever, have we observed the individuality of any writer so entirely merged into the theme of his pro duction, hisself - consciousnes s being altogetherabsorbed 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 an allusion to the predomi nant characteristics of the performance, whether ob jectionable or meritorious. At once, therefore, we would transcribe the subjoined stanzas is a specimen of the severe grandeur, almost amounting at times to sublimity in the expression of sadness, for which the book, on occasions, is remarkable. We know no more striking picture of deep and breathless serenity than the following : Calm is the morn without a sound, Calm as to suit a calmer grief, And only thru' the faded leaf The chesnut pattering to the ground: Calm and deep peace on this h;gh wold, And on these dews that drench the fume, 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 bow era, And cronded farms and lessening towers, To mingle with the beuncfing main: ,t i n irfe t cd h ad i l s e i t i o d e the air, fall; at all, C al m TA a hn n ed d s ei n d l e me e a p yy e p hs e e a tah e r e at o o f pp h r is es o s w iv n e T individual h e r e ulpf a o n ny b t e h r the calm,a poet eß a e c h u a a t l r m m w d o i ent spsir. u i z e the s t h ealmost stagnation o A f n t d he wa h v o e u s r th a a n t d sw th sy the s t e h a e s m on ie ':--- yetshionurgeht ever Calm on the seas, and silver s'eep, And dead calm in that nobleho b b r u ea t st mx. s T , en- Which heaves but with t he heaving deep. g gve when ice amplitude ? All his matchless powers of desc ription are lavished upon Ltbe pages of " I n Memoria m , " u ny no so b u tru am siv o e ug ly our and y incidentally. Who could paint a t once . w A with s h u o c r h e sverbalpoa speaking übgreovfittuye wioteandsur solstice,esti Makes, daggers at the sharpen'd eaves Where he mentions a summer's evening, when brushing ankle-deep in flower s , We heard behind tbo woodbine veil The milk that bubbled in the pail, And buzzings of the honied hours: or, again, where he exclaims -0 sound to rout the brood of cares, The sweep of scythe in morning d ew , The gust that round the garden flew, And tumbled half the mellowing pears! With one felicitious phrase he conjures up at will a whole panorama, opening up in vistas of inter minable beauty. it is in this felicitous manner that he talks of The landscape iciOing thro' the hot, an expression of inimitable correctness, as descrip tive of scenery v i e wed through the atmosphere of a summer noonday. One kindred epithet would have startled us into an exclamation of delight, but that we remembered having a lready met with it i n our author's medley of the " Princess." It is where he speaks of the " dewy- tasseli'd wood." Occasionally, it is true, Mr. Tennyson cannot rid himself of a fa vourite mannerism, detrimental to the purity and completeness of his composition ; as where he introduces:such fantastici4smilies es the " closing eaves of wearied eyes. Suoh blemishes ne vertheless are so minute in their character, and so seldom detected, that they only serve when encoun tered to mark the surrounding • beauties of the effusion ; such beau'ies as the name given to the period immediately preceding death— the low dark verge of IFe, The twilight of eternal day. Similar in brilliancy, and kindred in character to the last-mentioned, is that metaphor of— That deep dawn beyond the tomb Whtn, clear from nsarge to msrge shall bloom, Tie eternal lanchcape of tie 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 lices that lie Foreshortened in the tract of time! Sometimes, but unfr(quently, the rhythm is halting, the word spirit" being always, instead of remaining a diesylable, so compacted into a monosyllable as to suggest the unpoetic sound of "epiet"—vide pp. 115, 119, 134, 136, and 171. Again, this blunder ing of the metre is disagreeably perceptible in two instances, at page 116, hi the line— To the other shore, involved in thee, &c., and in the line soon afterwards— The old bitterness 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 thwe, however, let us turn to the splendid and pervading merits of " In Memoriam," as a poetic composition. Not all 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 The: e mortal lullabies of rain May bind a bock, may line a box, blay serve to curl a maiden's locks; Or when a thousand moons shall wane A man upon a stall may find, And, i.assing, turn the page that tell• A grit f—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 thy praises unexpress'd In verse that brings myself relief, And by the measure of my grief I leave thy greatness to be guees'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 beautil ully— So runs my dream: but what am I? An intent 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 filed 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 shoull bring me this report, Th•it thou hadst touch'd the land to-day, And I west down unto the quay, And found thee lying in the porr, And standing, muffled round with woe, Should bfie thy passengers in rank Come stepping lightly dow❑ 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 baud in mine, And ask a thousand things of home; And I should tell him all my pain, And how my life had droop'd of late, And he should sorrovr o'er ray 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 joices at the burial of his dead friend in English earth, so that - from his ashes msy be made The violt t 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) 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 tats 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 wiiter 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 Allred 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, so, Your pulled up, Jarvey !" 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.—Punch. COLLISION ON THE RIVER.—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 ok 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 flowine . . The brig kept on her tack to this side, and was brought to anchor close to the shore between Eosherville-pier and Pit cher's dockyard, at Northfiret. Thu 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, 59 as to enable her to be brought to this side to undergo the necessary repairs. The cargo of the brig must be seriously damaged. We 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 is likely to become 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 miles above Alba, on Sunday last.--Dum. fries Courier. THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE NA TrY. TO Tilt; 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 fallowing minute:— " Their Lordships having taken into their considera tion the state of the half•pay list, and being desirous of operating its gradual reduction in time of peace, " Reiolved—That from this date no promotion (except for special brilliant service) shall be made in any rank of commissioned officers (save flag-officers), except in the proportion of one promotion for every three vacancies which may be made by the removal by death, dismissal,nr 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 be promoted by the board. Practically we all knew, before this minute was issued, that the First Lord promoted whcm he pleas( d, though occasionally an Qtlicer, for long and distinguished services, slipped in ; but this minute is an open avowal of the fact, and NI hen 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 am not simple (Dough 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 E 0 often im pair the efficiency of our naval and military est Iblish ments. Incessant aro the eff its which all the holders of Parliamentary influence make during the tranquillity of peace to get their connexions and dependents elevated to situations which they are frequently iccompe tent 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 aro 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 persona promoted not being discovered, or nut 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 read of affairs; and when hostilities bit ak out 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 estaViihment to a ruinously low standard in point of amount, aristocratic cupidity paralyz s the di rection and nullifies the exertions of that part which is allowed to exist. The disaster at the commencensent 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 1840, 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— captain,, 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 point 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 .... 92 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 sear! Napoleon said one bad general was better tha❑ two good ones. I may say with him, one bad First Lord is better than three good; but the great IVhig and Tory families who rule this country are of a different opinion. In 1835 there were Retnovals. Promotions. Captains ... .. 25 12 Commanders ... 42 17 Lieutenants .. 74 52 From 1836 until September, 1841, when the Tories returned to office, there were— Removals. Promotions. Captains ... 187 ... 138 Commanders ... 262 ... 229 Lieutenants .. 717 417 Tce promotions, it will be seen, very much exceed one in three. Syria and China were the excuse for this ; but, in war, no such promotions took place, even for general actions. According to a return furnished by the Admiralty, the promotions in war time were as follows : For the battle cf the Ist of June, 33 lieutenants were made commanders. For the Battle of St. Vincent, 16 lieutenants were made cotntnanders. For Camperdown, 14 lieutenants to commanders. Nile, 1 commander to captain, 13 lieutenants to commanders. Trafalgar, 5 commanders were made captains; 2S lieutenants, commanders ; 27 midshipmen, lieu tenant!.. St. Domingo, 1 commander, 7 lieutenants, 8 mid shipmen. At.d 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 ; comman ders, 772; lieutenants, 2,718. They fini,bed 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 pulitical 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 newboardod, and brought forward .a plan of their own, not nearly so good, allowed men of 50 to retire on IL a day and 18s., and to take their rank as admirals when those of the same active list became ad miralsst nd i ng trills are reduced t o 25 they are to have an additi on of p a y as a reward for a n w d ho when remainedthe r e tired on th the admirals having given up 14s. 6d. to receive 11. 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' flog-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 30,0001. a-year was granted for a retired list. From 1847 to the end of 1848 there were.— Removals. Promotions. 30 73 112 Captains 76 Commanders .. 110 Lieutenants .. 285 In 1849 there vvere— Promotions. 12 33 45 Removals. Captains ... .. 20 Commanders .. 36 Lieutenants ... 107 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 secretary'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 bad 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 promotion is badly given, as it generally is, it causes great disgust in the service, and brings forward men who are little deserving of it. Sir Francis Baring has shown tolerable discretion i❑ the first year of his administration, and only pro moted 12 captains against 20 removalQ, 32 comman ders against 36 removals, and 45 lieutenants against 107. I 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 lieutenants, 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 halt that number, and all the c,m inanders and lieutenants unfit for service should be placed on 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 keeping up the knowledge of their profession, whereas, according to the present sys tem, it does not come to an officer's turn in 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 officA-s. In the French service fficers 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 of a war we ;hall find our officers s ithout experience opposed to a fficers who hive been in constant practice ; and it is not difficult to foresee the result. In the navy estimates for 1850 51, the wages to seamen and marines were 1,322,9591.; the half-pay and pensions, civil and military, amount to 1,388,6371., being 65,678/. more than the wages of seamen and marines afloi.t, 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 can very easily lay before the House 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 upon 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 front 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 in matters relating to the civil and military services ; and the late Commander-in• Chief had, in his former period of service in India, incurred more than an or dinary share of hostility among the conductors of the public journals. One of the ablest and mo,t widely circulated newspapers in India no sooner received the announcement of the promotion of the General who bad, 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. \Ch•-n we find, on similar authority, that Sir Charles Napier's judgments were harsh, and his comp . :lints unfounded, we deem it prudent to hesitate before we decide between the conflicting au thorities. It must he confessed that there are peculiarities in Sir Charles's character which, in some degree, weak, n the authority of his opinions and statements. Ile l'as proved himself on the Indus a most able general, and in many a field in Europe and Asia a skilful and fearless soldier. Ile is also—the 7,000!. bribe noNithstanding—unmistakably honest and straightforward. His love of discipline and his determination to do his duty are 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 get.eral 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 we 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 writ er. 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 a considerable extent, well founded. his not unknown that officers of experi ence have confidentially communicated to the home au thorities their unfavourable judgment of the discipline of the Indian troops. The laxity of formerCommanders 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 our own. An English infantry regiment would be 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 le hich 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 form the ordinary qualitieatiens 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 be does not incur losses as fearful as those of Affghanistan, may destroy the prestige of the E n g l i s h arms by blundering and indecisive contests. At present, also, while there is a reasonable prospect of peace, a victorious general will h ave enou g h to do in reforming the There are officers in with the th u e re a ro y. mpatent to the task, and it is to be hope d that neither interest . nor Army List nio who of carelessness will be allo wed to interfere r re cognition of their claims. — Chron i cle. 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 Las been made to medical men to inquire into the state of her mind. _ _ -- in equestrian statue of her Alajeety io about to be erected in Glusgoc, in commemoration of the Re74l visit 1849. THE SUN, LON DON, THURSDAY EVENING, AUG UST 29 , 150 •