The Sun. — London, England, 1868-08-06 00:00:00

'W. GLADSTONE AND HIS CONSTITVENTS. Mr. Gladstone and Mr. H. R. Grenfeil, the two Liberal ca ndidates for the South-Western Division of Lancashire, attended a meeting of the elect rs i the D Voluntee ornby, r Hall f ,a St . Helens yesterday. Mr. . . H o Liverpool, presided, and about 1,500 persons were present. Mrs. and the Misses Gladstone occupied seats in a balcony reserved for ladies, and received an ovation when their presence was announced. Mr. GLADSTONE, who was received with enthusiastic cneering, said : I have the honour and satisfaction of Appearing before you for the first time in the character of a candidate for the representation of the county in the ensuing Parliament. The contest is before us. The future and the past being inseparably mixed up together, I think it becomes me to endeavour to give you some account of the discharge of the stewardship which three years ago, under remarkable circumstances, you and the constituency of South Lancashire were pleased to entrust to me. The Parliament about to expire, although its life has been short, has not been inactive. From the first moment when its session began, it was called upon by the Government of the clay to address itself to the great question of Parliamentary Reform, and from that day until the close of the session that has just now expired there never has been a moment when the mind and time of that Parliament have not ibeen charged, and I might say over charged, with subjects of the highest importance to your interests. With reference to the coming election, I should have been glad to dwell upon many particulars con nected with the history of the question of Reform. I will now only say that I think the country may be sincerely congratulated upon the adoption of a measure, with a very general and extended consent of different parties, which has undoubtedly placed the liberties of the people upon a wider, and I trust upon a firmer, basis than that which they ever before enjoyed. Ido not wish to enter into invidious comment upon the detail of that mea sure, but I cannot refrain from stating my deep regret that in some important particulars—l am sorry to say in many particulars—the concessions that have been made have been attended with restrictions and exceptions so vexatious that this work, great as it is, cannot be regarded as a finished work. It will probably be necessary before we are many years older that the Parliament to be chosen, or some other Parliament, should endeavour to give a more consistent application to the principles embodied in the recent measure of Reform, removing those anomalies with which it is unhappily defaced. There is another sub ject to which I cannot refer with even a qualified satisfac tion. I refer to the vital question of taxation and finance, and it is with very deep regret that I have to record the fact that since the change of Government which took place about two years ago—with no sufficient justification that I am aware of—her Majesty's present advisers have thought it their duty to adopt measures and make proposals by which a sum of little less than three millions a year have been added to the permanent expenditure of the country—l say the permanent expenditure, in order that I may not be supposed to refer to that necessary, and I must say that honourable, expenditure, which has been connected with the momentary exigency of the Abys sinian expedition. Few among us are disposed to grudge that expenditure, but I do regret that under the sway of the present Government the scale both of the military and the civil estimates of the country in its regular service has been so extended as to entail upon you an additional charge, to be supplied by taxation, amounting to not less than about three millions of money. I turn now to the question which is of paramount importance at this juncture, namely, the question connected with the state of Ireland. Shortly after you did me the honour to choose me as one of your representatives, as a member of the Cabinet of Lord Russell, I, along with my colleagues, felt that we had no choice, if we were to fulfil the primary duty of securing the lives and properties of the peaceful subjects of her Majesty in that country, except to ask for the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act. I am responsible, gentlemen, along with others, strictly responsible for that act, and I do not come here to apologise for it. It was our duty—a duty which I hope every Government will at all times be ready to fufil. At that time there were abroad in Ireland num bers of persons who had come from a foreign shore, who were known to have come with the desire of lighting, if they could, the flame of civil war in Ireland, and whom it was absolutely necessary to deprive, by imprisonment, of the means of disturbing the public peace. We began by asking :or the suspension for a period of six months. Before the six months had elapsed the Government had changed, and our successors found it to be one of their first duties to ask for the further suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act ; and from time to time the precaution has been renewed. This is a most grave and serious state of facts ; and I am at a loss how to understand a report which I read in the newspapers last week, and the authenticity of which has not been questioned—a report according to which the First Minister of the Crown, appearing before an assembly of his party at the hospitable board of the Lord Mayor of the City of London, thought fit to state that there was matter for great congratulation in the present state of Ireland. If these words were used deliberately I cannot describe my sense of the infatuation which they betoken. I cannot find words adequate to convey my sense of the mental in fatuation of any man, much less of the First Minister of the Queen, who can find in such a state of things in Ireland a matter upon which to congratulate himself and the country. lam justified in Baying that the prolonged suspension of personal liberty indicates a state of things only a degree removed from civil war. 'We have thought it our duty to look in the face this ' dark fact of Irish discontent. It is a dark and menacing fact, and it does not rest on our own assertions. The Government did not scruple to tell us that in many of the considerable towns of Ireland there was a feeling friendly to that which is known as Fenianism, and that if the opportunity arose there was no saying how far that population would participate in the conspiracy. We have asked ourselves whether in this state of things we stand clear in the face of Ireland and of the civilised world. Whether the laws and institutions in Ireland are such as ought to prevail. Whether they are such as in the face of national danger we should be bold enough to main tarn. If so, then by all means mantain them. although civil or foreign war should blaze through the land ; but if not, do not wait for the moment of civil wa or of foreign war. Nay, we do not want to continue from year to year the painful, the ignominious, I would almost say the loathsome process of suspending personal liberty in order to keep a large portion of the people o Ireland down by force. I know that there is a great party in this country, known as the Lib era l party, who al!, united almost as one man in the determination to look this question boldly in the face ; but even were there not such a party, I tell you that such is the condition of things, that were you as hostile as you are favourable to the policy I recommend, I would still bear testi mony to its great public necessity, for the welfare, aye, I would almost say for the security of this great empire. The Irish question has many branches. The two principal questions that will arise for the considera tion of the coming Parliament are—the one connected with the tenure of land, the other that which is connectee' with the religious institutions of the country. As respects the tenure of land, that question is in the rear, whilst the other occupies the front. The land question is one which comes home to every Irish landlord who is seriously desirous to give to the Irish cultivator the security for the effort and result of his industry which h' does not adequately enjoy. I hope we may enable the Irishman to pursue his career in the land of his birth, instead of looking for a home across the Atlantic. And . gentlemen, I must add, it is my firm conviction that thi• may be done with fullest regard to the rights of property, and without any derogation of those civil claims which `the different classes of the community may make tc be protected in the enjoyment of the privileges which • they hold under the sanction of the law. And with these 'few remarks I pass to the other question—the Irish Church. I will read you a few words from the writings of a very distinguished and eminent man, the present Lord Lytton. His words are : "We talk of Irish bulls, but the words ' Irish Church' are the greatest bulls in the lan . guage. It is called the Irish Church because it is a Church not for the Irish." I cannot deny that propositior of Lord Lytton's. I wish I could. A member of the Church of England myself, I should be very glad indeed ii my Irish fellow -countrymen were disposed to take the same view of matters with me ; but then they do not ; I cannot restrain them, and I must consider, while I would exact a jealous regard for our rights as members of the Church of England or of any other religious body, whether we have pale' the same regard to the rights of the mass of the Irish people. Now all parties are agreed that the Irish Church casino' rest as it is. The on l y q uestion to determine is how and in what manner we should endeavour to deal with it. My attention lately has been a good deal directed to reading the addresses of those who are candidates in different dis- tricts of the country for t he suffrages of the people, wit} the view to the coming Parliament, and I have read perbap even with a peculiar interest the addresses of my eppo , nents. Upon reading these addresses I make this remark, that they are of a character singularly negative. I con tinually see written, and I almost think I can see the dis tinguished writer of the address, whoever he may he, witl a flourish of his hand, saying, " I am strongly opposed to Mr. Gladstone's motion for the disestablishment and dis endowment of the Irish Church." So far so good ; but we want something more than that ; we want to know not merely what they object to, but what they mean to do. It is their business to find a policy for the country. It ii our business to challenge their plans. At present thf whole matter is inverted. Those who are in the Govern ment seem to have no plan for the management of Ireland and they content themselves with criticising our p'aris. 1 4 thiaUla4AtiatactQry, way a 2 iiittr ors -- character in the addresses of a large number of gentlemen who come forward in opposition to our policy, but, at any rate, when they are cross-questioned I think they will allow as far as this, " We are ready to reform the Irish Church ; we are ready to remove the abuses of the Irish Church." I am tempted to say, with regard to the Irish Church, " I am an anti-reformer." Remove the abuses of the Irish Church ? Well, but if you come to examine the case of the Irish Church, and if you proceed to take away the abuses.of the Irish Church, why, gentlemen, there will be nothing left. I am speaking, gentlemen, most seriously. I say you cannot remove the abuses of the Irish Church. lam told there is a scheme coming forth from the commission which has been lately sitting. Ido not blame the commission ; I am very sorry for the com mission. Ido not know what better they could do. Ido not exaggerate when I say ,the day for changes has gone. (The right hon. gentleman then referred to the Irish policy of the Government. He reminded his hearers of the levelling-up process which the Government proposed, and called attention to the explanations of the Earl of Mayo, and continued as follows) : When you recollect the con dition of the country, as to the means by which govern ment is carried on, I think you will sayl am justified in the main propositions which I have laid down—viz., that the Irish Church cannot continue - as it is ; and secondly, that the plans of Church_Reform in Ireland are really visionary and idle, and that the real choice is between the plan of creating a multitude of Establishments on the one hand, and the plan of removing the Establishment which exists on the other. The plan is this—will the Church in Ireland cease to exist as an Establishment, and that no other Established Church should be created to take its place ? It is idle to shirk the issue, and those who are very tender on the subject of Protestantism will do well to recollect that we have amongst us a tolerable number of Protestants, the Nonconformists in this country. It is made a reproach to us that we are acting in concert with the Roman Catholics of Ireland. Why should that be a reproach to us? Our alliance is not for religious purposes peculiar to us and to them ; it is for purposes of civil jus tice. With respect to the Church of England, nothing is more idle than to compare it with that of Ireland. The conduct of England towards Ireland is disapproved of by the civilised world at large, and of this there is no doubt, far beyond these shores, there is no question at all as to the impropriety of this strange policy which has been main tained in Ireland. The policy which is sketched out is for your consideration and adoption. Yours will be the blame if the painful state of things in Ireland continues in Ireland; that shameful state of things which has made it necessary for us to suspend during the last three years the guarantees for personal liberty in Ireland. Yours, too, will be the honour and the praise, and yours will be the lasting benefits, if now, unit ing hearts and hands, and putting shoulder to shoulder, you join in a firm and resolute effort to return such men to Parliament who will address themselves to the considera tion of these great questions, with a firm determination to deal with Irishmen as they would deal with Englishmen or Scotchmen, and as they would wish that Irishmen, if it had so happened, would deal with them. Yours will be the honour, the praise, and the lasting benefits if these scandals, if these difficulties, these doubts and fears and mis givings, these unfortunate, and I might almost say these inveterate causes of alienation should be—l can hardly say at once effaced, for that is impossible, but at least subjected to a mitigating influence in the minds of the Irish people that there is an earnest determination to do justice and open a future of happiness, prosperity, and contentment which shall stand in joyful contrast with the past of that unhappy land. (The right hon. gentleman concluded amidst loud and prolonged cheers.) THE QUEEN'S VISIT TO SWITZERLAND, The Queen (travelling incognita as the Countess of Kent) embarked on Wednesday from Osborne pier shortly after midday in the royal yacht Victoria and Albert, Captain his Serene Highness the Prince of Leiningen, which almost immediately afterwards sailed for Cherbourg. Her Majesty was accompanied by their Royal Highnesses the Princess Louise, the Princess Beatrice, and the Prince Leopold. The suite in attendance on the Queen and the Royal Family included the Marchioness of Ely, Sir Thomas and Lady Biddulph, Colonel Ponsonby, Miss Bauer, Sir William Jenner, M.D., and the Rev. Mr. Duckworth, attached to the service of Prince Leopold. Lord Stanley, her Majesty's Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, will be the Minister in attendance upon the Queen during her sojourn in Switzerland. His lordship will arrive at Lucerne on Saturday next. The royal yacht was attended across the Channel by the Enchantress, Government steam yacht, and by the Black Eagle, steam yacht. Owing to the privacy of her Majesty's journey, the Victoria and Albert was not attended by any of the ironclads belonging to the Channel squadron now lying at Spithead. The royal yacht anchored off Cherbourg at twenty minutes to seven on Wednesday evening. Extensive preparations have been made at Cher bourg by Imperial authority fo r the cony enience of the august travellers, and a flying bridge leading direct from the arsenal to the departure platform of the station of the Chemin de Fer de l'Ouest has been especially constructed, to obviate the necessity of using carriages for the conveyance of the royal party from the dockyard to the railway station. The Emperor has placed at the disposal of the Queen an imperial train, consisting of ten vehicles, several of which are fitted up with great magnificence. The royal sleeping apartment, hung with exquisite tapestry of Gobe lins manufacture, the terrace, and the various saloons com municate with each other, and are remarkable for elegance and comfort. THE TREATMENT OF CONVICTS _ur WESTERN AUSTRALIA. Certain papers have been published relative to the alleged infliction of various cruel and illegal punishments upon the convicts of Fremantle by the governor of that settlement. The correspondence is based upon a letter addressed to the Colonial Minister by the chairman of the " Howard Asso ciation," which letter was accompanied by a petition from the convicts of Western Australia that had previously been laid before the Legislative Council of that colony. The grievances complained of were, first, the severity of the corporeal punishment, the description of weapon used to inflict it, and the number of lashes given, which, it was said, were double the number allowed by law ; secondly, close confinement in dark, unhealthy cells, for indefinite periods, without bedding, air, or exercise, and on bread and water diet of one pound per diem ; thirdly, the extension of servitude prior to discharge upon ticket of leave ; fourthly, im prisonment in separate confinement, on short rations, for terms exceeding nine months ; fifthly, the absence of any settled or authorised scale of prison rules. The petitioners asserted that the governor and his son carried out " a system of merciless punishments and secret cruelties, with an avowed object to prevent absconding ;". and another and rather more personal motive was imputed in the assertion that the convicts " feel convinced that the governor's policy in using oppressive measures is to purposely increase crime towards the close of transportation, so that he could parade it in his returns next year, with a view to impress the home authorities with the necessity of keeping a large protective force in the colony, as the stepping-stone to a large subsidy." A copy of this petition, together with certain correspondence, was published, and it evoked from Governor Hampton a lengthy categorical reply, which he addressed to the Duke of Buckingham, in answer to the charges preferred against him. Several abstracts from official documents were en closed. The last despatch of the series is from the Colonial Minister to-Governor Hampton, and it is dated " Down• ing-street, July 25." The tenour of this despatch is to entirely exculpate the governor from the charges preferred against him. After noticing the " completeness "of the answers to the general allegations, his grace concludes as follows : "I have much satisfactionlin observing the com plete replies thus furnished by you to the reflections which were attempted to be thrown upon your own per sonal share as governor of the colony in controlling the administration of the convict system in Western Aus tralia." Statements to the effect that the French Government was negotiating a commercial and customs union with the Spanish Cabinet are now current. The Queen is said to be very ill at La Granja, and a miscarriage is spoken of. ABOLITION OF DEPTFORD DOCKYARD.—Official intimation was received at Deptford Dockyard on Wednesday from the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, of the final closing and abolition of Deptford Dockyard, at the end of the present financial year, viz., the 31st of March, or sooner in the event of the present shipbuilding operations being completed. Mn. DUCANE.—The announcement that Mr. Ducane has left England for Tasmania is quite erroneous The report originated in a mistake of an Essex paper. Mr. Ducane has no intention of starting until the first week in October, when he will be accompanied by Mrs. Ducane and his family. The new governor has determined to go by way of the Cape to Sydney, whither he will proceed in the Sobraon, the same sailing-clipper that took out Lord Belmore last year to New South Wales.—rose. The Duke of Richmond presided on Wednesday at the Board of Trade, in the arbitration between the Brighton and Surrey and Sussex Railway Companies, which was referred to him by the Brighton Act of last session. His Grace was attended by Mr. Fry, Mr. Samue: Laing, jun., and Mr. Philip Rose, on behalf of tl.e Brighton Company ; and by Mr. Venables, Q.C., M Taylor, and Mr. Faithful, on behalf of the Surrey Sues !x Company. Mr. F. S. Reilly, barrister, ()f Li coin's Inn, who had fern appoinW by kiimmos., elan atts4o_,. SAVED AT LAST.* most, if not all of you, my readers, were com fortable in your beds—the wakeful ones of you perhaps listening wistfully to the storm, and per haps having your hearts moved with pity and to prayer for the poor fellows at sea—these brave men, from choice, not for hope of money reward, but for the far dearer hope of saving life—waited on and on, by those gloomy sands, a prey to all the fierceness of the gale, the raging seas, and deadly cold. Time after time the mad rushing waves break over the boat, burying her in clouds of spray and foam, or coming in heavier volume still ; put the men for a moment or two completely under water; the sufferings of the crew be come very severe, they encourage each other, and still let the boat lay to. Willing as every man is to endure to the utmost, they soon feel that it is getting beyond their strength, they are frozen through and through, and rapidly getting numbed and exhausted with the continual wash of heavy seas, and at last they are compelled to make a sig nal for the steamer, and are towed back to R uns gate, arriving between four and five in the morning. The name of the vessel that was lost was never known, the greedy sands soon swallowed every vestige of the ship ; her name may perhaps be found among the missing ships at Lloyd's; hope doubtless long lingered, may still linger in many mournful homes, still the story be told to the chil dren, how their father or their brother sailed from a foreign port for home on such a day, and has not since been heard of, but no clue ever be found as to which of the many missing vessels it was that came to such sudden destruction on the Goodwin Sands. _ Do we not often find, in the winter's evening, than our warm rooms seem more cosy, and the lames lap more brightly and closely round the half oonsumed log, as a blast of wind moans in the ctimney, and perhaps the cry of some poor street hawker tells its plain tale of toiling misery, as it goes shivering along the street? Do we not find our sensations of personal comfort increased, and our sympathy for the sufferer quickened, as the wintry gale and slashing rain beat against our well - shattered windows, and suggest the hardships we should have to endure if w -were less cared for and protected ? But, if we m ay learn the deeper to realise our blessings, and the more to quicken our sympathies, by contrasting our respective positions with those endured by many of the poor toilers on shore, still more may we do so as we think over the hardships suffered by the toilers at sea. I want to gain especial sympathy— and it is generally so freely given, that I know I have no bard task before me—not only for the ship ' wrecked, crying aloud in their quick peril and deep agony for rescue, but also for the poor, brave hearted boatmen of our coasts, who never hesitate to do all, and to dare all, when the prospect before them is that of saving life. Let us first think of some of the features in the calling of those whom we may well call the stormy petrels of seafaring life; who not only find their bread upon the waters but on the stormiest waters of most troubled seas ; who, the darker the night, the sterner the tempest, the more blinding the snow-drift, are the more full of expectation that their services will be needed, and, therefore, the more determined to urge their way out into the storm, to be ready to render aid aZ; the first call for assistance, and perhaps to pluck a harvest of saved lives off the very edge of the scythe of death. Yes, my readers, I would carry you in thought far away from quiet home-scenes and associations ; from the pleasant nooks and sunny corners of me mories which you delight to recal, upon which you love to let your thoughts half-consciously ponder ; but I ask you to take the joy of your home-peace, the gladness of your blessings with you, that you may be quickened in every chord of sympathy, as you let me carry your thoughts away into the dread darkness, which is broken only by spectral sheens of light shed by flying foam, and to picture the rolling sea mountains hurling along their ava lanches of white spray ; to listen to the dread dis cords of a howling tempest ; to hover in fancy mid a scene of fierce turmoil and strife, where the ele ments in their rage seem to have loosened all bonds of fury, and determined to sweep from their path every vestige of man and his works; and now let your eyes centre upon a shattered wreck, to which are clinging a few storm-beaten sailors, trembling upon the very verge of a grave. Look where a fit ful light gleams in the darkness, now rides high on the crest of a huge wave, now falls buried in the trough of the sea, shines out again, is hidden in a cloud of spray, but gets nearer and nearer to the shipwrecked. The light gleams from a lifeboat, in which a small band of men are battling—battling on in the teeth of the fierce storm, checked by no terrors, dismayed by no failures, with no other hope than that of saving life, but in that holy hope strong in perseverance, and undaunted in courage. In such scenes we see the men actually at their work in their efforts to save life and property; but the lifeboat and hovelling work does not merely consist in doing the work at the moment of its necessity, but also in the unwearying watch and readiness for when that time shall come. Many a Ramsgate boatman leaves his poor but warm and comfortable home, his humble but loving home-circle, to pace Ramsgate Pier for hours ; and this night after night for many winter months, and for the mere chance of being among the first to make a rush for the lifeboat when the signal is given to man her—a chance that may not come a dozen times in the season, and which, when it does come, may afford, indeed, a great oppor tunity for dating all and doing all for the saving of life, but not much in the way of refilling the half empty cupboards at home, or rubbing off much of the growing score at the baker's or with the land 'ord. As soon as it is daylight on Sunday morning, the coxswain of the lifeboat and others of the boatmen feel very anxious ; fearing that, after all, there may be some poor fellow clinging to a remnant of wreck, or perhaps a ship on the sands, lost in the darkness of the night, and unable, in the rush of the sea, to make any signal of distress : they cannot rest ; and though the lifeboat has been in only a few hours, the coxswain of the boat and the mate of the steamer go to the harbour-master, and ask his leave to go to sea again and search round the sands. This permission is readily given. " Go, by all means." Ten fresh bands join the coxswain and bowman of the lifeboat, and soon after light on Sun day morning they start on their dangerous but hope ful mission. They are towed again by the steamer Aid, and make for the North Sands bead light ves sel, keeping a lookout foranysignal of distress. The men seeing nothing on this side of the sands, it is determined to round the light-vessel, and search at the back or French side of the sands. Soon they discover in the misty distance what seems to be a large vessel on the south-east spit of the sands ; they tow with all speed in her direction, they are going along the edge of the sand just outside of the broken water. The waves are beating down on the sands with tremendous force, the surf flying up in great sheets of foam, and the roar of the breakers like loud quivering thunder ; the scene is enough to make the stoutest heart quail, but, without any thought of flinching, the men cling to the lifeboat as the seas break over her, and patiently bear all the cold, and storm, and wash of water, as they are towed on in the direction of the wreck. One said, in answer to questions as to what his feelings were as he watched the tremendous seas, and knew that shortly he would be battling in the midst of them, " Well, Sir, 1 think every man has his inward feelings ; soldiers say they have theirs when they go into battle, and lam sure we have ours ; a man can't help knowing the danger, and thinking about it, and feeling about it, too ; but we are not going to be made cold-hearted about it, or we shouldn't he out there ; we can't help seeing that we've got our work cut out for us, and we determine, by God's help, to do it, and won't flinch ; we hope to save others, and feel we shall do our best, but we know that we may lose our own lives; we think about this sometimes as we are sitting in the boat, holding on against the wash of the seas, but when we get to the wreck we forget all about ourselves, and thirk only about saving others." The seas become heavier and heavier as they get nearer the vessel, and approach a more exposed part of the sands; they have to encounter one great rush of water, which, urged by the hurricane of wind and strong tide, comes raging along through the Straits of Dover. They find the vessel to be a large barque ; she has settled down somewhat in the sands, heeled over a good deal, and huge waves are foaming over her. The men look at the awful rage of the sea, hear the tremendous roar with which the seas break upon the sands, and say to each other, "We have, indeed, our work cut out for us." They can see no signs of any one being left on board—the crew may have been swept away, or have vainly attempted to get to land in their own boat. The flag of distress is still flying, and they go in nearer to the sands, until they are almost abreast of the wreck ; they can now make out the crew crouching down under cover of the deck-house, while the wild waves make a complete breach over the vessel, and threaten every moment to wash the deck-house and the crew away. The steamer now tows the boat up to windward ; the lifeboat men feel their turn for the battle has come, and make every preparation—sails are got ready to hoist, the cable is made all clear for pay ing out, the coxswain sees that they are far enough to windward, the steamer's tow-rope is cast off ; the boat lifts on a huge wave as the strain of the rope is taken off her, they hoist her sail, round she flies in answer to her helm, and she makes in for the wreck ; they mount on the top of huge seas, go plunging down into the trough of the waves ; the spray flies over them, as the gale catches the crests of the towering breakers, and fills the air with the flying foam; a minute more, and they are in broken water, the seas rush and recoil and leap together, fly high, and fall in tangled volumes of foaming water over the boat ; she is almost unma nageable ; tossed in all directions as the seas pour over her. The men have to cling with all their strength to the thwarts. They get within about sixty yards of the wreck, the anchor is thrown overboard, the cable paid out swiftly ; the sea is rushing with tremendous force over the ship, the boat sheers in under her lee quarter ; the men cheer to the poor half-dead sailors, whom they see on board. All is hope : " A minute or two more," they think, " and we shall have saved them." A shout, " Hold on, men; for your lives hold on !" a glance up, a huge towering wave like a wall of water comes swiftly on, its crest curls, breaks, fall—the men and boat are carried down by the tremendous weight of water. Some of the men seem almost crushed by the pressure and blow of the falling wave—they do not know whether the boat is upset or not, they cling convulsively to her ; she floats and frees herself. The men find that the wave that thus buried them has taken the boat in its irresistible flood, and dragging the anchor with it, has carried it more than one hundred yards away from the ship. The men shake themselves free from the water, and look at the vessel ; they cheer to the crew, and determine, please God, they will have them safe yet. They hoist sail, and try to sheer the boat to the ship. In vain ; sea after sea breaks over them ; the boat is thrown by the broken seas in all direc tions, sometimes the coxswain feels as if he would be thrown bodily forward on the men, as the waves lift her almost end on end. Again and again are they buried beneath the water ; but after each time the boat floats buoyantly, and the men bear up bravely, and all are once more ready for a fresh struggle. They labour on, but in vain ; they get the oars out, the waves take them and send them leaping from the row locks, and out of the men's hands; they must give it up for this time. All their thoughts are for the poor shipwrecked crew, and the bitter, bitter disappointment they must feel. Again they cheer to them, and shout to them " to keep their hearts up, they will soon be at them again ;" and then make the best of their way to the steamer. They have failed in their first attempt. The steamer again tows them into position, and they make boldly in to the wreck for the second time ; they steer as near to the stern as possible, avoiding the danger of being washed over it on to the deck of the ves sel, and thus crushed to pieces; they get nearer The early days of last year were bleak and cold ; strong northerly and easterly winds swept over land and sea ; people on shore spoke of the weather as being seasonable, but shuddered over the word. At Ramsgate, on the sth of January, it was a fresh breeze from the cast-south-east, and, as usual, the anxious boatmen were keeping a good look-out. About half-past eight in the morning the boomings of the signal guns were heard, both from the Good win and Gull lightships. The boatmen, who had been ',watching all night in momentary expectation of such a signal, made the usual rush for the lifeboat.t The steamer, the Aid, was speedily ready, and taking the boat in tow, away they went steering for the North Sands head light-vessel. As they were making across the Gull stream, they saw what proved to be a shipwrecked crew in their own boat ; they took them on board the steamer, and found they were the crew, eight in number, of the schooner Mizpah, of Brixham. The schooner ,had stranded on the Goodwin in a thick fog the night previously. The weather was still thick, and the men could give no account of the position of the schooner, and thought it hopeless to try and find her, or to get her off if they did find her, and so the steamer took the boat in tow, and returned to Ramsgate. It proved aferwards that as the tide rose it lifted the vessel, and she floated off the sands. A Broad hovelling lugger, while cruising about, fell in with her, and succeeded in bringing her into Ramsgate. The vessel and cargo were worth £6,000 or £7,000. The men obtained £350 as salvage. The lifeboat men were glad, after their night's watch and morning's work, to rest a few hours, but plenty of boatmen remained on watch, ready at any moment to make up a crew. The cold became hour by hour more intense, and the fresh breeze grew steadily into a gale ; the sea at high tide broke in flying volumes of spray against the pier, thundered down upon it, and poured over it, in foaming cas cades, into the harbour. As the evening grew on, the gale became terrific in force ; heavy snow storms went sweeping by ; showers of freezing sleet came rushing along ; and the night was dreary and dismal, dark and cold in the extreme. At half-past ten the storm was in its full fury, and the sea a very howling wilderness of raging waters. At that moment, mid the roar of the wind and sea, the signal guns were heard, and rockets were seen in the direction of the Gull light ship. The lifeboat was manned with despatch," would be the short report the coxswain of the boat would afterwards make to the harbour-master — this means, that the boatmen, in spite of the piercing cold and terrific gale, rush along the pier, burry down the harbour steps into the boat, to face the dread peril of the wild sea as readily as the schoolboys bound down the school stairs and out on to the common for the joy of a summer holiday. It takes the steamer and lifeboat about one hour and a half to urge their way out to the Gull light-ship ; they speak her about one in the morning, and are told that the men on board saw, some time since, a large light burning south-east by south, but they lost it about twenty minutes ago. The steamer at once tows the boat in the direction, a careful look-out is kept, the snow storm came down more wildly than ever, the cold is very bitter, the sea running mountains high ; still on, and no sign of a light. The crew hold a consultation as to what is best to be done ; there appears no possibility of one of the crew of the vessel being still alive, clinging to any floating wreckage ; still, some other vessel may be in danger, they will wait and watch for any light or signal of distress, and, not seeing it, at all events remain there until daylight, that they may be sure they are not leaving behind them any who may be perishing for want of their aid ; and so, while * Extracted from Macmillan's Magazine for August. "A Tale of the Ramsgate Lifeboat," by the Rev. J. Gilmore, M.A., rector of Holy Trinity, Ramsgate. t The Bradford, a gift from the people of Bradford to the National Lifeboat Institution, and by it placed at Ramsgate, under the control of the harbour authorities. She is one of the finest boats in, the lifeboat fleet. THE SUN, LONDON, THURSDAY EVENING, A' UG UST 6, 1868, than tb ey did before, and hope to get alongside, but agt tin they are overwhelmed in the rush of a fearful sea, buried in its deluge of broken water, and the boat is once more hurled assay by the force of the waves many yards from the vessel ; the an chor holds, but the tide is running more strongly than ever, and right away from the vessel, and so it is hopeless for them to attempt to get any nearer to her. The tide has risen and is nearly at its height, the vessel is still more over on her side ; the deck is completely under water, the top of the deckhou ses is just above the sea ; the crew have lashed a spar across the mizen shrouds, and are all clinging to it, while the wild waves rush and beat ovier them continually. It is with terrible agony that the poor crew witness the second failure of the lifeboat. " She will never come again," says the captain ; " the men cannot do it, the life must have been washed and beaten out of them." Great is their astonishment to find that nosoouer does the lifeboat clear herself of the water that seemed to drown h es—no sooner do the men free themselves from the rush of foam, which has for a time over whelmed them—than they begin to cheer again, as if only rendered the more determined by their se cond defeat, and more courageous by the difficulties and dange,:s they bad endured. And the ship wrecked crew, encouraged by the hoarse cheers of the exhausted, half-drowned boatmen, begin again to hope ; lout it is almost against hope. The boat is again towed into position by the steamer, and for the third time makes in for the wreck. They throw the anchor overboard farther from the vessel than before, give longer scope to the cable, sail in well under the ship's stern, again steer as near as possible to her lee quarter, lower the foresail. They are within a dozen yards of the ship; the bJwman heaves a rope with his greatest force, it falls short, the boat sweeps on, they check the cable, and bring her head to the ship, abreast of her, but unhappily some distance off. The captain of the ship had despaired of the boat being able to come in the third time; but when he saw her coming he felt convinced it was their last opportunity of being saved, and determined that if the boat were again swept from the vessel he would jump into the sea, and try and swim to her. The b , at comes, and misses ; and the boatmen see the captain hastily throw off his sea-boots, seize a life buoy, and prepare to plunge into the sea ; they shout to him not to do so—to the crew to hold him back. " The tide in its set off the sands would sweep him away ; the seas would beat his life out of him ; they will be back again soon, and won't go home without them." The steamer has followed the boat as closely as possible, running down the edge of the sands, just clear of the broken water. The lifeboat has swung out to the full length of her cable, and is in deep water; the men, upon looking for the steamer, after being again beaten for the third time from the wreck, find her making towards the boat. The men on board the steamer had watched with increasing anxiety and dismay the vain efforts of the lifeboat; they grew more and more excited each time the boat returned to them, and are preparing to run any risk to help the lifeboat men in their gallant endeavours, so they make in towards the lifeboat, throw a rope on board, and then hope to he able to sheer the boat in to the wreck. The boatmen have hold upon their own cable, to which the anchor is attached ; they gradually draw in upon this, while the steamer seeks to tow the boat nearer and nearer to the ves sel, and for the fourth time they approach the wreck. The steamer venture's into the rage of the sea, and her position becomes one of great peril ; she rolls in the trough of the tremendous waves till her gun wales are right under water, and her men cannot stand on the deck ; the foam and spray dash com pletely over her, and tons and tons of water deluge her deck ; they gradually approach the vessel ; the lifeboat sheers in, the seas and tide and wind catch her in their full power, and whirl her away again. A huge wave bodily sweeps over the steamer ; she is in extreme danger ; the lifeboat men for the moment fear that the wave will swamp her ; rolling, plung ing, burying herself in the foaming seas, the steamer bravely holds her own, till to remain longer is cer tain death to all; and sorrowfully they have to give it up, and make out of the rage of the broken water. The lifeboat men rejoice to see the steamer get clear of the deadly peril ; they are in scarcely less danger themselves ; they cut the steamer's tow-rope, and then find that they must cut their cable to avoid being dashed over the wreck, and away they go. They look at each other ; beaten off for the fourth time, not one heart fails, not one speaks of giving it up, not one has such a thought for a moment ; the only consideration is, what next they shall try; and weak, and exhausted, and almost frozen with cold, but determined and courageous as ever, they are only anxious for the poor shipwrecked ones whose peril increases every moment, and hasten to prepare for a fifth effort for their rescue, strong still in their determination " that they will not go home without them." The ship's hull had been now for some time com pletely under water, and it was very evident that she was breaking up fast. She had coals and iron on board ; this dead weight kept her steady on the sands, and prevented the waves lifting her and crashing her down, or she would long since have been torn to fragments ; as it is, the decks have burst, and the lighter portions of her cargo are being rapidly washed out of her ; the sea in some places is black with coal-dust, and much wreckage, pieces of her deck and forecastle, and fragments of her boats, are being rapidly swept away in the rush of the tide. Each time that the men on board the steamer and lifeboat look at the vessel, and see the crew in the rigging, they think it indeed a won drous mercy that they are still safe, and get each moment more impressed with feelings of deep sym pathy for the poor fellows, and with the greatest eagerness to dare all to save them. Daniel Reading, the brave and long-tried master of the steamer, is ill on shore, and so she is in charge of John Simpson, the mate ; he and William ‘Vharrier, the engineer, consult as to the possibility of making another effort with the steamer. The tide is setting off the sands with such force, that they cannot see how it is possible for the lifeboat to get into the vessel ; the crew of the steamer are ready to second them in any effort they determine to make. They get the mortar apparatus ready, and hope to approach near enough the ship to fire a line into the rigging, with which they may haul a rope from the vessel, which they can give to the lifeboat crew, and thus enable the men to pull the boat over the tide, and alongside the ship. They put the steamer's head towards the wreck, and go ahead cautiously ; the tide has been flowing some time ; the steamer does not draw much water ; they are almost within firing distance ; the steamer is nearly overrun with the waves, a huge roller comes rushing along, she lifts high on its crest, falls down into the trough, as down the side of a wall, and strikes the sands heavily. The engines are instantly reversed ; she lifts ; and, being a very quick and handy boat, at once moves astern, and they are saved from shipwreck; and thus the fifth effort to save the crew fails. No time is lost—at once the steamer for the lifeboat, and makes ready to tow her again into position. Again not a word—scarcely a thought—about past failures; only eagerness to commence at once a fresh attempt. " Look out, my men, here is another rope for you." " All right !" is shouted as the line is caught, and the hawser is drawn into the boat. " All right, tow us well to windward ; give us a good position, plenty of room ; we must have them this time. All fast, away you go, hurrah !" The men watch the ves sel as they are being towed past her. "Oh ! the poor fellows, to think we have not got them yet." " Well, we have had warm work for it." " But we will save them—we will save them yet." "Ah ! look how that wave buried them all ! There they are again. Let us give them a cheer ; it will help them to keep their hearts up ;" and as the boat rose on a wave they shouted and waved to the ship wrecked crew. " There ! another sea caught her ! Look how her masts begin to swing about, in dif ferent directions, too ; they are getting unstepped and loose, she is breaking up fast, working all over —all of a quiver and tremble Poor fellows ! poor fellows ! we have not a moment to spare—it must soon be all over, one way or other 1" Thus the men (Teak to each other ; they are in a glow of eagerness and excitement, and can scarcely restrain themselves to keep quiet. As they watch the poor fellows, and time after time the rush of wave and spray passes, and they can still see them clinging on, they feel almost as if they could jump at them, to try and save them ; they lose all sense of weak ness, cold, and exhaustion. One of them said after wards, " We were thoroughly warm at our work, and felt like lions, as if nothing could have stopped us." In this spirit they consult together how they shall make their next effort. First one plan is sug gested and then another ; but these seem to give no better hope of success than those that have been already tried. At last a plan is proposed which must indeed prove rescue to the shipwrecked, or death to all. " I tell you what, my men, if we are going to save these poor fellows, there is only one way of doing it ; it must be a case of save all or lose all, and that is just it. We must go right in upon the vessel, hit her between the masts, and throw our anchor over right upon her decks." " What a mad-brained trick !" says one , • "why the boat would be smashed to pieces." " Likely enough ; but there is one thing certain, is there not?—and that is, that we are not going home and leave these poor fellows to perish ; and I. do not be lieve there is any other way of saviug them, and so we must just try it, and God help us and them !" Not a single word, now, against it ! What ! charge in upon the vessel, in that mad rage of sea !—V ic tory or death ! Indeed ! —Most of the lifeboat men are married men, with families, loved wives and loved little ones dependent upon them. Thoughts of this—tender heartfelt thoughts of this—come to them. " Well, and so we have, and have not these poor perishing fellows wives and little ones too; and are not they perhaps thinking of them, as much as we are thinking cf ours ; and shall we go home without running all danger, and doing all we can, and let them see us go home to our dear ones, while we leave them to perish thinking of theirs ? No ! please God, that shall never be said of us !" Such thoughts as these pass through the minds of some of them. Among the ship's crew, clinging a few feet above the boil of the sea to the loose and shaking rigging, there is one who guesses their thoughts. All the others think it impossible that the lifeboat can make another effort. He encourages his mates. "I have sailed in English ships," he says. " I have often heard about lifeboat work, and I know they never leave any one to perish, as long as they can see them ; and they will not leave us." The boat is towed into position, and they make in again for the wreck. They get well to windward, they are crossing the stern of the vessel. A tremen dous breaker comes heading along : " Look at, that fellow ! if he catches us, it is all up with us, the boat will be dashed high up into the masts of the ship." " Hold on all !" "Ah thank God we have escaped, it breaks ahead of us." " Ready all ; be ready all," shouts the coxswain. Every man is at his station, some with the halliards in hand, others with the anchor ready to cast overboard ; past the stern of the vessel the boat flies; down helm; round she comes; down foresail, the ship's lee-gunwale is under water, the boat shoots forward, and hits the rail of the vessel with a shock that almost throws all from their posts, as she literally, for a moment, leaps on board the vessel ; ever with the anchor ; it falls on the vessel's deck ; all the crew are in the mizen shrouds ; they cannot get to the boat : a fear ful rush of sea is between them and it. Again, and again, the boat thumps with shocks that almost shake the men from their hold; the seas are rush ing completely over them, the boat is carried away from the vessel. " Hurrah ! the anchor holds; veer oat the cable ; steadily, my men, stea dily ; do not disturb the anchor more than you can help ; we shall have them now, we shall have them ; let her have a little more cable ; get your grappling hook, throw it over that line ; there, you have it;" and they haul on board a line which had been at tached to a cork fender, and thrown from the vessel early in the day, but which the boatmen had never before been able to reach. They get the boat straight; haul in slowly upon both ropes ; cheer to the crew. " Hurrah my mates, hurrah !" All is joy and excitement ; but steady, attention to order; now the boat is abreast the mizen-rigging, where the men are. " Down helm !" the boat sheers in. " Haul in upon the ropes— handsomely, my men, handsomely." The boat jumps forward, hits the ship heavily with her stem, crashes off a large piece of her forefoot. The men are for a moment thrown down with the shock ; up they leap ; two men jump on to the bow gun wale and seize hold of the captain of the vessel, who seems nearly dead, drag him in over the bows ; two of the sailors jump on board. " Hold oa all ! hold on A tremendous seas rolls over thorn the boat is washed away from the vessel ; the anchor still holds ; in they sheer the boat again ; they make the ropes fast, and fasten the boat alongside to the shrouds ; they will not be washed away again, until they have all the crew on board. A man jumps for the boat ; she falls in the trough of the sea, the man falls between the boat and rig ging ; a second more and the boat will be on the top of him, crushing him against the rail of the vessel, upon which the keel of the boat strikes heavily ; two boatmen seize him, they are nearly dragged overboard, they are caught hold of in time, and all three are pulled into the boat ; up she flies, and crashes against the spar in therigging. " Jump in, men, ; for your lives, jump in !" Now all are on board, all on board ; cut the lashings ; cut the cable, up helm, up foresail. The seas catch the boat and bear her away from the vessel; away she goes with a bound, flying through the broken water. Thank God, thank God ! all are saved at last ! Saved at last ! The boat is through the breakers, out into deep water ; the men have time to look at each other— and how gladly, how fondly they do so ! all is glad ness, and thankfulness, and cheerfulness ; they shake hands, the rescued and the rescuers, time after time; the crew of the steamer greet them with cheers ! Who can describe thejoy they all feel at the success ful ending of their long battle with terrible danger and threatened death ! They lift the captain on board the steamer ; he is thoroughly exhausted ; they carry him into the engine-room, and, in the warmth there, do their best to revive him, and he soon recovers. The sailors wont leave the lifeboat. " No, no, you saved us, you saved us ! You had plenty, plenty trouble ; we thought you never do it. We stop with you, we stop with you 1" It is thus the mate answers in broken English, when they tell him that the crew would be more comfortable on board the steamer. The lifeboat men often find the men whom they have saved thus refuse to leave the boat ; it is a sort of simple expression of grati tude, as if to go would be to desert their new friends who had done so much for them. In Ramsgate the anxiety is very great. The steamer and lifeboat have been out many hours, nothing can be seen of them in the mist that hangs over the sands. " Can anything have happened ?" is the restless question put from one to another; it might well be so in so fearful a storm. At about half-past two, hundreds of people are collected on the pier, and, to the great joy of all, the steamer and lifeboat are seen speeding to the harbour ; flags are flying from the lifeboat—a sign of success. As they enter the harbour cheer after cheer welcomes them. The crew land ; they are ten Danish sailors, from the Danish barque Aurora Borealis. They are taken to the Sailors' Home, and well cared for. Many of them are very weak, and can scarcely walk, but they speedily re cover under the hospitable care with which they are greeted, and are full of gratitude for the rescue so bravely wrought out for them, and are all now well able to feel that confidence in the untiring courage of an English lifeboat man, which one of them ex prEssed in the height of their danger, when he said, " They will never give us up while they can see us!" The Board of Trade, in recognition of the gallant services of the men, presented them with £1 each. The King of Denmark forwarded 200 rix-dollars to be divided among them. They are all poor men, and these presents proved very acceptable ; but the joy with all was, and is, in the fact of their having so successfully persevered in saving life, in rescuing their drowning brother sailors ; while all who know the circumstances declare that never, by land or sea, was more gallant service done. ~~ CREDIT FONCIER - OF ENGLAND• A meeting of shareholders in this company was held yesterday at the London Tavern, Mr. IL J. Browne, of Bristol, on the motion of Mr. Rowsall, was voted to the chair. The CHAIRMAN said they had embarked £2,000,000 in this undertaking on the faith o f the representations of the directors of the company' The directors had assured the shareholders that they would set aside a dividend fund sufficient t ° pay one year's dividend of 20 per cent. It we'll'. have been a very prudent course if they had carried out that plan, but, unfortu n ately, the divide nd fund was wasted, and the two last dividends t he y received were about lf per cent. Under the circum stances they had invested £2,000,000, which n°vl was not worth more in the market than .£500,0A They had been two or three years without divid end, and they nad been led on from time to time by the reports of the directors to expect better things' Under t hese disastrous circumstances the que.,tion was as to what should be done. They had not only 11° dividends, but the capital was locked up in unneg °- tiable securities. No one :could say w h en they would have a dividend. The question to solve Iva! how they were to retrieve their position. lie though' the appointment of an independent committee of in vestigation to make a searching inquiry into the af fairs of the company would be the best course. I t appeared to him the public did not believe the state: meats which had been issued by the directors, an d therefore might be inclined to believe the report of an independent committee. If the public believed the statements of the directors, he felt satisfied that the price of the shares would ba much higher in th e market than they were at present. The chairman who presided at the last meeting of the company made a speech of two hours' duration, and manag ed the business very cleverly. He considered that it was necessary there should be a thorough investiga tion, not only into the affairs of the Credit Fonde r of England Company, but also into the affairs of the Credit Mobilier, from which the former elna: nated. If the company's property should be foun d worth anything like what had been represented by the directors, the price of their shares would in 12 months rise to at least twice their present value. The articles of association were all drawn up in fa vour of the directors, and scarcely contained an/ provision in favour of the shareholders. Til er ; were 4,400 shareholders; many of them were ruined' some had their hopes blighted, and all had suffere d losses in various ways. He concluded by m oving 3 resolution to the effect that, in the opinion of the meeting, a searching investigation ought to b 3 !Wad e into the affairs of the Credit Foncier CompanY and also into the affairs of the Credit Mobilier of Eng " land (Limited) Company, with the view to aac cr ; tain the causes of the present depressed condition °L the company, and as to the recovering of all th e moneys that might be recovered. Mr. ROWSALL seconded the motion. He though a t there should be a most searching investigation , a n that every transaction should be carefully over hauled. The business of bringing out comPa nie ci was a questionable proceeding : the market h e t to be rigged, and what shares the public did nn f take up the company had to take. The Gourd Chancery would compel those to refund who taken commissions for profits that were never en tained. The directors had shared £72,000 amend them for commissions besides their fees, a n d the manager had taken a like sum. 113 " o f no doubt they could recover a very large so n money in respect of those transactions. Mr. OGLE said he unfortunately invested bi 4 money in the concern, but he differed entirely frnra ir the proposition of the chairman. They must c° sider that some of the money had been squan ue " r t s and spent unprofitably, and should not forge t t ' the directors had given the shareholders £2 a shat e out of the dividend fund. If they could re ealrer . the whole of the commissions back from the dire' tors they would not amount to more than 15s. P er share, but they would not get the half of it. Mr. WILLIAMS held 250 shares, and quite ogre"' with the last speaker. a i f Mr. BIDDER, a holder of 50 shares?, believed they would only wait six months longer their affairs would be in a better position. The CHAIRMAN said that what was prornisec l ,?: the last meeting of the company was that cle'"4 should be collected in, and a dividend of 3 or t per cent. would be paid to the shareholders out of that money. It was well known that the o° 111 3 ; pany must pay its debts before it could paY 11/3 dividend to the shareholders. the Mr. NIXON, who held 200 shares, thoug ht company was coming to an end, but it would re, quire some years to realise the assets. tb 0 Mr. GORDON, a holder of 210 shares, thoug ht „ er business should be carried on for the future lulu inspection. Mr. BENTON believed that some of the ass et : would realise nearly the whole of the moneh 13 9 if they appointed a hostile committee great W ri t ; flees might have to be made. They had 1 10/ 3 , $ honest chairman, and if they put the coraPa' l o affairs into the hands of four trustees they W°Ll realise a large amount of the assets. hare' Mr. ARGLES said he represented 23 large $-- holders. He believed they had a valuable properiiii; and that a committee of consultation would b ° t best kind of committee to appoint. ge The CHAinmANreplied to the various rerriaria. had proposed arbitration for the settleme nt r - s . matters between the directors and shareh olue ;t, Under sections 138 and 165 of the Companies' 1862, the misappropriations of the funds al company could be readily recovered. Ile then 110 the opinion of Mr. S. Lindley, which stated t there would be no difficulty in recovering the s ° that had been improperly taken for comnaiss l9ns ; l l The resolution was then put to the meeting was negatived. 0 5 On the motion of Mr. NIXON, a resolutioulto unanimously passed, to the effect that a cool° the be appointed to consult with the directors as t ? o te' wisest mode of proceeding with respect to the 1 „„a itt rests of the shareholders both as to the Po t 00 ee present affairs of the company; the comm to consist of Mr. H. J. Browne, Mr. Rowsa ll, w ith Nixon, Mr. W. Gordon, Mr. K. Fenton; power to add to their number. ban ° The proceedings concluded with a vote of to bad - to Mr. Browne for the manner in which be conducted the business. k Ver LADVERTISEMENT. I —Holloway's Pills.—Mistake dered Impossible.—Each box of these admirabls, r" O A " enveloped in a sheet of printed directions as P' . 1,,-0. 113 ,' comprehensible that every one who reads must 1 10 7„ . .0 ion them. Nothing injurious to the human system l",'-',"O the composition of these pills, which never wi 33 ,, - g ti e ; feeblest frame. They never can be taken at a a°",ises 6 ; ; nor can they ever cause mischief in any stage of a' „ -- r its Public favour has placed beyond dispute their o ",,, st irt; curing most disorders, and has bestowed coral le Z i ot 1 ," 4 success on their inventor. Holloway's pills c'„ l 'i l ises s a ,`" surpassed for their safe and curative powers in a" „pzi • '- of the stomach, liver, lungs, heart, head, and kl fact, they regulate every corporeal function. _0..0000/ Births. , GRANT—On the 4th ult., at Cooper's Hill, the wt ° Grant, Esq , M.P., of a daughter. et, of, G URNE Y—On the 4th inst. al , at Mansion-hous e -s the wife of Edwin Gurney, of a daughter. f jieu DALLAS—On the 3d inst., at Brighton, the w ife ° Colonel Dallas, of a daughter. Marriages. Sel' ono - of DICKSON—FRAMPTON—On the 4th inst., at Ec T ° so' to wood, John Bourmaster Dickson, Captain 11.130,rt, the late Admiral Sir Collingwood Dickson, top , fis'y Ellen, second daughter of the late W. F 1.354) of Ball-house, Froome Selwood. . ;fp OU 'lr o f JEPITS,ON—BAYNES—On the 4th inst., at Tr'n"d Dart i ' n , i te Maryfebone, Sir Richard Meuntney JePb s°° ' Clie r ` - cO/ Elstead, Surrey, and Emden. Yorksbire, to . r4 4n Helen, second daughter of the late Sir Williara Bart. Deaths. DMORE— On the rancos r 3 e 6rall3°lll of BEAR Ist e nst F Juniper Hall, Alickleharn, i Surrey, a ged 7 8 . C D o r' the 2d inst.,at the Royal liespital%coort sea, FRANK—On AogNet Field ddK,, l . Marshal Sir Edward 13 lackercy, the G°' t 11 121.5-' -- w 9 e n st t ll he aci 3 c d no i 3 7t i , oh a n t iTi,laa_yinikro, iLitslqi , i t o i ::2 s_ l: v a ci..,11, E t: E n s A q L ., L o — f A c a t l l ll l b u e n r s l t v a e r i l i te g n r , oo, a llorfolk, ged 7sldden IY, j' 14. SMYTHE —On the 4th inst , at Fora Lodge? B riit°l3' 91161 ; denly, Mr. R. T. V. Smythe,. aged 73. W i t i r e lL a T t a e s i — d, On m th d e in 4 g t t h ol i j ust B ., ur T re h omas Surrey, an aged 90 cracrlbtaeorsc,,?rytl;oo, „,0 ° 1 ; Lo o n f do N n o. : I P l r 2 iffted and Publishr, ted a e by r egv WILL gg Icy; tro-111 2tl i strand, Strand, in the Precinct Uiddia3L—Thurfsday , Aug tu3t h 6, Is6B. Frint o eft TfoyB, ia • 1 !CNA This cele prize Medal It Pure S,)11 in B the Agents i 8, (3 Observe ti hen's LL Vti IWuri lit BITS ADVANCE hold or Lei able weekli Nits free ItOYA Enthusi Matto. G.l Trapeze. TRU Miss LO and Miss the Ansti B ° ll, Ton Ur. R. LA and Mr. J -Import: the 'Live] Monday the greal, Bateman ,PPear blust be Privat( Promena liitchell' The CA The Sei 4.1 9 1 ng' great )las ever pet-14 Leybourn Immen introduci. troduei ng Burlet---1 EDINBU t en Year. 11 lathe 9 proved remedy (lout, a delicate 4 ren, at 172, No pui " 4 - P number unfut 11, 30ds ol Bqtlare. nOtT3E W This ?ours, F or Go ellerai , P r DE G . elit ov Man, MI Cil \'~ H~ curls T S O L I a "d 11 ......__ ( ) lei Col, ur t ectl i, y T 1 .- elic;nas -oreE wi th() E bo 1 ra, B EA Ii