The Sun. — London, England, 1845-01-28 00:00:00

--- AMERICAN NEWS. LATE It FROM TIIE UNITED STATES. Two LIV ERPOOL, MoN DAT NIGHT. here arriv a l s f rom the United States have reached Il ud " ( laY—th e packet ship Ashburton, Captain dlestone, which sailed from - N ew York on the Bth, an d the Sea, Captain Edwards, u bleb left the same e itY on the lOth. These arrivals bring intelligence eight days in advance of the previous arrival. brought Thewsh ews from Mexico, which is later than that by Mr. Cushing, shows that the case of Santa had ~,been effected in the city of Mexico ; the troops e ' aanta Anna, at the head of which was Canalizo, to tathe aaraber of 2,000, had shut themselves up in the , lft ee a decree signed by that officer for dissolving egress having been previously issued. the 41; benators and deputies met, protested against ,ecree, and denounced the Government of Santa t tla ' Sixty-five deputies, and all the senators, t , lee Pt four, signed the protest. In the meantime, ie itee revolutionary movement was strengthened by ti 1 1 , 4251 " 4 of the clergy and the Liberals; and, at the ad of the i.,.Populace, General Herrera forced the attach e d sei Canalizo and the leading personages daylaell'd toedna Anna's Goyerninent and on the ne w folleNic,_ ' n amely', the 7th of December—the Ne,* °'iertinient, at the head of which is Herrera,, we" °T'ganized, and the navies of the new Cabine x re announced by proclamation. According to theof th e e° Orleans B ee, the new Ministry is composed A ,. ln ° B t able and honest men in the country. °ll lid it are said to be arrayed all the wealth, pPorlver, ko ,, dingy '' influence of the republic. These Ile: ,„„ Were followed by great rejoicing. the two °I congratulation passed between t rcei, lene'es of C ongress, and the new President i a .. eq the 0 , ' -3ra tulat . sof that body and of the ie diog citizens C ion "h 0 was evil ' Ti gress had outlawed Santa Anna, 4oza, at n .itut,a7oh.ere the former accounts had him a° terrc‘•tuere a !hod of dollar s The new Government offers ofm his paying the twelve millions h.s rnoektoeNvi:l'h tie is alleged to have squandered. T 1 R ill 34 14 ' the -United States papers seem to think, i reeliogiengtlien, rather than otherwise, the public the h, 9-iexko against the annexation of Texas -•enean union, 4tie S t L • einn etts e egislatures of New York and Massoa veraots i°had been opened by their respective Gse of the ~. Messages which vie in prolixity with those %h ow v rresideot himself. The financial accounts d tli eh , that the resources of each State are ample, an ~ ee nditiun of t pis h e trk t i 1 , of I3ishop Onderdonk, the Protestant his 8 pa] -.relate cd • N . \ . York, had terminated in tispensio_. ..... .i e I, uecornini. e ll ...tie Was accused of a variety . of un the wiv + 6 fa was with females of his diocese . qiier. ea\zatal daughters of his own clergymen, and establish °absolute criminality appears to have been 444 foreci) but enough was roved of his moral un- I ht etlf no the situation which he held. Nine Bishops he 84 asPeoding the accused, and eight against it. The 1 1 \ ' : irisl°11 ' it is said, will be perpetual. Vio e * York • got in to Journals record the case of a judge .ow vl34blie,house4 squabble in a " rummer . y' (a low 4 • 4 1 i, km ), at trooklyn, opposite the city of New vfhi ch qlO the melee received a black eye, fttic N eeful 40 . t day i, o kon th e . . . Paniment he was seer i nex with Niko, Judicial bench, sentencing to fine and tea t ! 'eat wretches,brought before him for drunken- The . orb ,44e)c,,t• ''.epr -wo of Texas was still before the House l'e4l Ts:d se e llta t l ees, but little progress seems to have treeposses".l4toh !t. Indeed, the proceedings in Con 'lle aem. ,4 interest on this side of the Atlantic. n as - 4 'ma t T tetirin exas says that President Housto . ilairlteteibp,lf.ro,rn the presidency, had been com ..) p f l e i : meat 4, ''''' 6enate, and that his successor, I krekt flea had filled all the principal lat e ,blttibe'r of . 1 ''" QllHgrantS were finding their way offices. A thitt 4h crop in e n t r y Prospects of the cotton 't Gk '9 hereivett good. 5,000 bales were in store I'l k , °a. /.140 '1104414 toyfro ngl,l4amongst the fish from • the east end t ll th. 11"4 th C of Virginia,•extending coo e apes let e B i h as St 140 the sea fur a distance of three iii 4 , 4 ' l 4 tiesiaoutaed. r. erne consternation ; along the in ' th e ezt, Millions of dead fish are daily thrown NE ` 1144; i 3 un explained. Iti 6ft ,, a ktx 011 k IioN EY MARKET, JAN. 9. 15' -"'" () Ili 1 l q Tat STOCK EXCHANGE. 440 Is4..tj &,160 9B ,55900011(1.44:1.k 5 3, . ... 1 3 0 54i 10000 NI 6, • .......... .... ...................... n a 5 0 ........ 3 - Pen. . Yr Bonds 2. t 40 0, -BYivania s 60 , 3 i 50 gr ey 1, 4 _ 43 ... ... .. 36/ 1 501 8 %is e a r n rs Tvust .. 28 24 tutalsea I r iet: t b ... ,-,'' . cash 44 lo l pi,2,llrg .4aalc 97 140 ,ab„....__sinsurtinee. 2 , .c.rib kr . lu uranee ..... 101 b 60 29 ss()) ,hores ~.... ................... . ............... 44 + ; 110 h ftnt orl Co ...... .. 44 p storm 22 ttrl e " ............ b 60 61 " 111 .......... ,• lassotettii._ltlaVilorro.andtt .. 1.r.0..a.d. 0 - 10 0 "' 1 41 ... • ........ 67 , 444 14 stozi:11(1 .............. 10600_ ' 4, ,,E0a . 2•l3eki. , •• ........... • be 73 t 0 to"awk Italie .. ......... -- bB 62 2 ~ tig le.._ , _oft .................. ...•••• k io ' ,.. k)r. ,Il'itu,,,u Itadroad . - v. .......... ........... ... 3B-} "C°N I ) BOARD, aato o • Wor. ... ................. .- ....... . 67 p li ............................... ....• s 3 44 it l' o It Co . tk e lY ti r t gts• rtzt Itsilllthskrttt olitrown, tii°oPr2V,,..effterwir SEAmEIL—Yes.- , tl ti ,. oudo., •-•istr ar of merchant seamen in kt,.. 1 , ilee.. eo u, applfed to Mr. Br derip at the tlipAret,4eiel Sc t, for SIMI ° r At man talc gyp, St°ek " ., a w?lise's aga i nst• louse -0.4 tee u , for de,_ . . sal or s lodging- „ Ottit' an uff iaining the register tick If,ts ot Iti,f,y tttotf,l4l;alieuzlploehn2ceaz.hicrhrhrender.ed hi:n liable . to ,o 51 : eetrsegistrar said . o t n he• to a 4 4 ,tki i 4 t eXteot: register tick 11 ), 11 4 ) til Peu vi,lnd. People were I s f v e a ginVin m g g to trt •gic Itt,,ftrei,,at pr opi 4 e lle i e of the law. It was absolut 'AY t.to!ou,ti.:,etirriii,a. should know the severe penalt.les ,‘f,itio„,"°lgea„e, He had alre d thi r- N I ta t rmo ti He fop th e a y registered . e% etip 4' .ti as man merchant. service in th e. 4, i.a,, l ts 4 , 41 if the Y tickets had been issued. 'a 9 'Lle • ottld b ge tickets restored, the ' li oDlie tt %l43 e. ° granted Were nut %Ili 4 ,, patio 4•r ALL,. Pelham, ed to the seamen on making 0 1 . ,tnkl dencie behalf, the solicitor, then made ,A, 4-iie i ih, .of seven seamen whose register ,` 1 1,: ° 1 12 , den l a gall dew d by 1 1 - 4 (l a had s i lee the master of a i tl tl i , lo e ,„Re t u I , teed articles to proceed on a At ii. "4 4 ° T ;'oll r: t 0 th:s3reie,toand delivered the register the master of the vessel, ea u v:tm4 % 41,1 1 3'4 ' e se 1,.. ti lt tai l le the ricer ether, had been detained ti r t. y eel . The,, and it was uncertain when fillii•uttßre4t detai n men s clothes were also on board, isti:t qiiiitiperirationen shore, knocking about, sub t 4 t4 e 4 d. to the • Mr. Briderip said the men chtcth,ltroke vtllcias, and 'wages from the period of their e,414t, aedi.coatrzilelitl also to compensation if the 14 . i tti l p, ad uyeet aa :, He Would act in this case as ty kt il i iri t tk _a he eo,',"lcer. to wait upon the captain Virp„_ler of ` .. le tteket_,T:ssign no satisfactory reason 4,3 1 1 1.1.1 01 ;:eer 5e. ' n would issue the summonses I ko 4 : u kr.e 141 %. 27 e t tk .. t titti t i eluaamde.:"--he Lightning steam -44 t kl t'lk e e t Sh ee t W• Petley, left Woolwich )01.44,, rim, 2 . 11.0111 that Mess to tow the Ilavar.nah, 0 il tli kek ei `,,,er a 144 port to Deptford. Experi .N.‘,ooirott de down the rive in the Rattler i r,p k r int 44 4, Itoer Item, ;te tl I , ,eba t . ,i,3 Propel'. YSmithson Wedaesday. 'll l t,, 4 liti. kith, -, is ob,, s: `1", When a speed di 9.45 tpl/441;'t IN til 8 Prop el! " T ied ; and on Thursday with k:44 1 4 , ki lt , th e G er, the same in Principlehas t l),!e tt 6 e . ii m , •tv truol 9.0;a5t knots steam-vessel, at asd the li,,,Arbs ti, vi a es , er . s per hour, the engines l ii,,' klit t 'llta 111 kr, I-: min ute Th Rattler - - i 4 t,L, ei. e • .. , mi t h s • e is to be , I, h frip h fir, d f rdered to b propeller for sea. aservice. ti er u rou l ti e carried o la Oc r , c itt t „. th t ,, cia ti,. ie Exce„ nat .. oil& mouth titul i P. ,4 1 ",,1ng 5 , xot"euL .gunnery- ship, Cap ,ti „no the r iy e , ~ against the Swiftsure, a ‘,4,, di c e s r , ' Levil°PpYed as a receiving ship' at i l 'lth 41 11: t o t c , l e n vict ,„than, a 72 -gun ship, - recently ,iNii m 1,,,,.. exp er i_kla. the A '."lne.Pert. The nnm sytit; were'rpar,ei it;"e e‘i. with is 300, and they tt l , l ' li o rwa ,_ , the Royal Arsenal at of st t 4t trB f: (le d 0 0 Thuraday , last in one of the ~I NRlit. ), d wit , r Portsmouth oltfirthelisyn fuze s un c • Sixty of the shells t i t, k 4 ;f c ,, in ith f uzes on wgta,in Norton's prin • Colo eighty l 'lti, t t lie 'helLek...tY Lieutenaalinta. CohAlan„y, it th O p t o,. ),p, •-•',.,,fuzes in vented by Ni , ‘s,, 1 , idd i rit uelit , r James -,, ti , t) , 11 oiti e o f p - are eXPeCted to take place ) , ,i Ili h ett o , ebruar • - 104 Z,.. f- c . a s man 3. The new barge, fitted r ev -flock alleativre tit 4t kt bla t i o Yard 0 , 1 i, was tried in the basin t,l.tti, h 4 at in itt les s than ;odttnresci7, and made a ls 4 er -e w' il„It b 'eft Re ju the I nch. T h an a half minutes, b,iNt tl °4 o . add ie w it , e depth of the immer p 11.. t„„ th e 1,, r was 3 ft. 9 • ... 'hi k tilrN, '''t sate • vn g t h of th in. forward and p,„ k Ilk 4 tisfset' e vessel 70 feet. The , „ 0 94• and I° n to th 14kil, u .. 41,4 test': eonso _ 6 kirofossional gen thdr IVaili ng v mer the invention a very 4 % 11 . 1 4 1 11 111, 2 ,k i 4 • ael, ft e , ss el• The Apollo trooli- Iv_ 1 4 I: _tl, t4ti y 04 a i tant, wit i , was reported off Mar lq, Im s t lltl y l s and ucard , cu , t.wx) companies of the titis 4144. .tititp6et eaptaii4EQ,ltiitniesN, f?rveertnelaflrtoam ,and 1 il e , , 11 40 ti I,t ( Id to 1 t4ticik,t,tit-Ot4thlwlier th eli alGte w a a n r a t he at head -quarters at taq tei 1,,, t1 V th th: r _har g , of tit:hailstone, hired vessel, 0 ti vs kel it 4 (1:, 1.) 0 , 1 v ( et' oa priti, es. Gordon, surgeon, 1 eo n `us:tivi et.. 3"ard, I vo iy . trofn Deptford to i : 14 4 I t /or v-,,,i I.,`)_"vich, where she will egiraeot —wlezifi's Land. 41. de• Re out irl her as a guard .............. - 74 { Tr/141 StiN, LONDON, TUESDAY EVENING, JANUARY 28, 1845. TILE THEATRES. COVENT-GARDEN. A new play was produced r,t this theatre last night; it is in five acts, and its title is Honesty. Th 2 author is not unl-tr• own to fame. We remember reading, not with , ut pleasure, a drama from his pen, called the Lord of E'llinghanz, and, if we mistake not, the play now produced, though new to the stage, has al ready issued from the press ; the adaptation of it, therefore, was somewhat of an experiment, on what the svncretics call the " unacted drama," of which school there is too much that might also be called unactable. Of the faults of that school Honesty partakes largely; it wants clearness in conception, and closeness in con struction ; it is dim and hazy, and even with the strictest attention it is difficult to comprehend the plot. The five acts follow, but do not seem to grow out of each other. These defects, the ability of the per formers—and on this occasion they exerted themselves to the utmost—do not compensate, and the result is vague, indefinite, and confusi-,g, which is not cleared up even at last. So much for the drama itself. For the manner in which it was put on the stage, it is worthy of all praise ; the scenery was excellent, and the dresses new and appropriate; of the acting, it may safely be said that it saval the play, but throughout the performers had to struggle with unfavourable materials. The play opens with a scene in the man sion of Douglass Trafford (Mr. Vandenhoff), whose servants, with the instinct of the rats who fly from a falling house, see the ruin of their master approach ing, and pay themselves by pocketing the plate. Trafford enters with his steward, Fairfax (Mr. Bass), and learns the full extent of his embarrassment, his sense of which is increased by the appearance of a bevy of creditors with their demands, backed by the insolence of Master Deverill, a money-lender, a part exceedingly well played by Mr. Rogers. In the midst of his difficulties he resolves to woo and win his cousin, Lady Julia Lancaster (Miss Vanden hoff), as it appears, partly at least for the sake of her wealth, and puts off his creditors for the present with promises. So ends the first act. In the second act, Lady Julia appears surrounded by a crowd of lovers —as mere a set of walking gentlemen as ever trod the stage—and, with good reason, is exceedingly cold and indifferent to them all; among them is a young advo cate, Francis Gage (Mr. Vining), whom the author presents as an honest and scrupulous lawyer ; it causes no surprise, therefore, to find that, though very talented, he is very poor. On this occasion he urges his suit with such warmth as to rouse the passion of Trafford, who is one among the " mob of gentlemen," and he strikes him with his riding-rod. For this Trafford afterwards receives a severe rebuke and a refusal from the lady, who deigns not a word of reply to the young advocate's pleading, and he returns disappointed and desperate to his home. At this point the great defect of the play is manifested. The third act opens in Francis Gage's miserable chamber, where he is preparing by night some documents for Deverill, the money-lender, whose tenant he happens to be. Love and the dreams of love retard his labours, and when Deverill calls for the papers they are not ready. A quarrel ensues, Deverill is struck to the ground and dis appears vowing revenge, but returns shortly afterwards with two officers to turn Gage and his young brother into the street for arrears of rent. At this juncture a client enters to retain Gage to defend an individual unknown charged with murder. He refuses, but the client has already discharged the lawyer's debt, and he is "retained" irrevocably, though he looks on the task as pollution. It turns out that the murdered man is Sir Philip Lancaster, the father of Julia, and that Julia herself, with whom he is so deeply in love, is suspected of having dispatched him by poison. The moral scruples of the young lawyer vanish, and he undertakes her defence, she having come alone to solicit his advocacy. In this act Traf ford appears weighed down by remorse for some great crime, committed the audience know not when or wherefore. The fourth act contains the trial of Julia, before a judge who indulges in very injudi cious and unjudicial prejudice and passion, abusing the prisoner in very strong language indeed, which we can pardon for the sake of the magnificent burst of earnest, animated declamation which Julia gives in reply, and which was really the most effective passage in the play. This speech alone would establish Miss Vandenhoff in the very highest rank of English tragic actresses. We gather from a scene that precedes the trial that her advocate has displayed surpassing talent and eloquence, but he fails. She is sentenced to the death of a parri cide, to be burned alive ; and all he can do is at the last moment to claim for her the " wager of battle," which is granted by the court, and the act ends by Julia being re-conducted to prison, Traf ford having thrown down the gauntlet " on behalf of the prosecution," and the lady being as yet unpro• vided with a champion. The fifth act leads us to the dungeon in which Julia is confined. She is visited by the young advocate, and her proud spirit being now subdued by imprisonment, she confesses that she does and has loved him ! An attack is made on the prison by the populace, who are persuaded of her innocence, but she refuses to escape, and persuades the people to retire. With an affectionate farewell to Francis, she is led out to execution. The last scene is a public place, with the stake and lists for the combat, but no champion on behalf of innocence has yet appeared. Trafford is present, in a fearful state of agitation. Julia is about to be chained to the stake, when she demands to speak with him. It then appears that Trafford is the murderer, that his guilt is perfectly well known to Julia, but that she has kept the secret in fulfil ment of a vow, which at the time the deed was com mitted Trafford has made her make. This is the grand, we might say, the fatal error of the piece; of the murder nothing is seen, of the vow nething is known till the last moment, and then the motive of the action, and the action itself, appear in the last de gree impossible and unnatural. ' Still Trafford will not avow himself the murderer, and Julia is chained to the stake for execution. Then the young advocate enters "at the third summons," declares himself the lady's champion, and takes battle-axe and shield to do battle on her behalf. Trafford, though weighed down by the consciousness of guilt, is compelled to fight. He is about to enter the lists, when he is presented with a cup of wine by a page, who is a disguised Italian lady, Infelice, whom he has seduced and deserted; she poisons the cup from revenge, and by the poison, not by the hand of his opponent, Trafford falls, before he dies declaring the innocence of Julia. Thus ends the play. The house was full, the applause was frequent, and at the fall of the curtain Mr. and Miss Vandenhoff were loudly called for —a compliment they well deserved for their exertions, sometimes awakening l i attention, and always inducing forbearance, carried the play through. But it wants vitality. Trafford's villany is without strength and purpose; the audience cannot gather from the action that he is the murderer, and when it is known, there seems to be no motive for it. Nor is a stern adherence to a vow to conceal the murder of a father calculated to raise sympathy for the principal female character. No effective drama was ever yet founded on guilt without passion, crime ithout motive, and sorrow without apparent cause, or .a cause so imperfectly and so tardily developed as to lhave no influence on the action of the piece. We should not omit to state that Mr. Vandenhoff apo logiised to the author and the audience for the ineffi cien t manner in which he had performed his part ; he was suffering, as he has for some time been, from in dispe, , sition, which, indeed, was several times percepti ble. The author was called for, but he was not in the house, and did not appear. tion with Emile, to Lamberti's great an noyance. Madame Delbois (Mademoiselle Miry), the sister of Emile, arrives, and then the tables are turned, and Madame Jurigney is quite as much an noyed at the attentions which Lamberti pays to Madame Delbois. At length, however, Lamberti repents him of his peccadilloes, declares his intention of quitting France for ever, and is of course forgiven by his wife, and received with open arms. Made moiselle Nathalie, as Madame Jurigney, made a great deal of a part which in other hands would have been comparatively insignificant. She looked and acted the pretty widow admirnbly ; while M. Lafont, as Lamberti, was the very beau ideal of en homme a bonne fortunes. The comedy of Pierre le Rouge is in the three epochs. The first epoch is in 1788, and the scene is laid in the country village of Mcsntdragon. Pierre le Rouge (M. Lafont) is the mauvais srljet of the village—a sort of French Will Fern—warm-hearted and generous, hut coarse and brutal, because ignorant. Pierre le Rouge is a poacher. No wonder, then, that he is hated and persecuted by the Marquis d'Entraigues, the Seigneur of the village—no wonder that his so ciety is scarcely tolerated by Madre (M. Tourillon), the respectable village miller. Pierre, however, has a heart, and that heart he has bestowed on the pretty Jeanneton (Mademoiselle Nathalie), the coquette of the village. It is the feast of the Rosiere—it is the height of Jeanneton's ambition to be La Rosiere; the Marquis promises not only to make her Ro siere, but to give her a handsome esta blishment in Paris if she will comply with his wishes. The temptation is too great to be resisted—the fickle Jeanneton falls. The pro cession of the Rosiere takes place. In the frenzy of jealousy Pierre rushes upon her, snatches the wreath from her brow, and tramples on it. The indignant villagers rush upon him. lle seizes a flail to defend hini§elf—he strikes one of the villagers with it, kills him, and makes his escape. The scene of the second act is laid in Paris in 1798. Jeanneton, as the Citoyenne Cornelie, is the admired of all admirers, and the reigning beauty at the quasi Court of Barras. The Director, Pierre le Rouge, who has educated himself, is, as Citizen Quissac, a man of immense wealth and considerable shrewdness, but of very vulgar manners. He dresses in the extreme of the mode, and is exactly the beau of the period of the Revolution. Cornelie has continued faithful to the Marquis ; and now that, as a ci-devant noble, he is proscribed and hunted down, she gives him refuge in her hotel. Quissac is introduced to her, recognises her, and renews his suit. She refuses him. The guard enter to search for the Marquis, and with the presence of mind of a loving woman, she throws herself into the arms of Pierre, calling him her dear Marquis. He is arrested, but ie Marquis, who from his concealment has heard all, advances and surrenders himself. Cornelie drives off to Barras, to endeavour to obtain his pardon ; and Quissac, who is involved in the plot of Collot d'Herbois, is arrested, and sent off to Cayenne. In the third act we find ourselves at Montdragon, in the year 1818 ; Pierre, decorated with the Legion of Honour, is a Count of the Empire, and has purchased the chateau. He has adopted Justine Rambeau, the grand daughter of the man whom, forty years before, he had unfortunately killed. Every year he had transmitted to Madre large sums of money for sup port of the Raimbeau family, the greater portion of which Raimbeau had purloined. The Marquise d'Entragues arrives, and desires to purchase what she calls the castle of her ancestors. She is introduced to the Count, who at once recognises Jeanneton. It appears she had saved the Marquis's life, and he, out of gratitude, had married her. He is, however, now dead, and the airs of nobility of Madame la Marquise are most amusing. She looks with the most perfectly well bred stare of disdain akthe barrack Count of the Empire, as she calls Pierre, and talks about her ancestors in the most amusing manner. Pierre, however, at length forces her to recognise him, and Madre, who subsequently' enters, recognises him also. Pierre has, in the meantime, heard of the villany of Madre, who, when accused of it, threatens Pierre with exposure ; Pierre siezes the hypocritical old rascal by the throat, and is on the point of strangling him, when he is prevented by the arrival of Jeanneton and Justine. He assembles the villagers together, declares that he is Pierre le Rouge, and exposes the villany of Madre, who, out of revenge, is on the point of proclaiming the low origin of Madame ; he is, however, stopped by Pierre, and the old rascal is turned out of the village ; while the lovers of 1788, Pierre and Jeanneton, are united in 1818, as M. le Comte and Madame la Mar quise. The acting of Lafont in Pierre le Rouge was perfect. The character gives him ample opportunity of exhibiting the great versatility of his talents, and he knew how to avail himself of it to the utmost. Whether as the poacher, the vulgar fop, or the gentleman e ly old Count, he was equally admirable. Mademoiselle Nathalie, too, was excellent; nothing could exceed the naivete of her village co quette, the elegance of her grande dame, and the rich affectation of her Marquise of the Restora tion. They were both called for at the conclusion of the performances, and will no doubt become as great favourites in London as they are already in Paris. The house was well and fashionably attended. revenge. She raises her piece, fires at the hus band, and lie receives a musket wound. The act is not, however, unobserved. Jack Gong (Mr. Paul Bedford) and Muster Grinnidge (proprietor of a travelling caravan) have gone out to America to procure Indians for exhibition i n E ng l an d ; i n their rambles they become witnesses of this tragical deed Miami is dragged to the spot, and receives the dying injunction of her injurer not to visit his offence upon Geraldine. When he dies, she precipitates herself into the river, but is saved by a party of French officers, who happen to be passing at the time on a raft, and is, by them conveyed to England. Before quitting America, it is necessary to do justice to Jack Gong and Muster Grinnidge, whose amusing perform ance forms a happy relief to the excitement of the plot. In the third act, which brings us again to Ireland, Miami reappears as Madame St. Aubert. The daugh ter of Geraldine comes, in a singular manner, under her protection, having been previously purloined from Nelly O'Neil, foster-sister to Geraldine, by Wild Murtogh, now become the agent of George O'Ken nedy. Geraldine returns to Ireland, where she finds the child with the former huntress ; George repents his conduct ; and Wild Murtogh, his villanous agent, is arrested on a charge of horse-stealing. The de nouement exhibits the death of Madame St. Aubert, who consoles herself for causing the death of Connor O'Kennedy by the reflection that she has fulfilled his dying request, and by making over her estates in France to the widow. The success of the piece was complete, and the audience, at the conclusion, crowned their approbation by loud calls both for the actors and the author, who, on presenting themselves, were rapturously applauded. The Corporal's Wed ding followed, and The Chimes concluded the performance. LYCEUM. Last night, after the dramatised version of Dick ens's Chimes, which, looking at the thin attendance previous to half-price, appears to have lost the charm which novelty and the name of "Buz" gave it, a one act farce, bearing the title of A Model of a Wife, was produced here for the first time. The plot, though slight, is amusing, and what is more, it is somewhat original. A Mr. Pygmalion Bonnefci (Mr. A. Wigan), the son of a retired French toy-dealer from the Lowther-arcade, falls desperately enamoured of a lay figure, which he has frequently seen through the window of his opposite neighbour, Mr. Stump (Mr. F. Matthews), -a jealous painter and teacher of drawing. Mr. Stump imagines that the object of the Frenchman's attentions is Mrs. Stump (Miss Walcot), his young and newly-married wife, and the confusion which this mistake occasions amongst all parties gives rise to many laughable situations. But Clara (Miss Fairbrother), Mrs. Stump's niece, who has all, along supposed that Bonnefoi's attentions are directed to her, ultimately makes matters right, by transferring his affections from the lay figure to herself, which she accomplishes by dressing herself in the "dummy's" clothes. The farce, which is smartly written, and lags not for an instant in interest, was eminently successful. The acting, we need scarcely say, was unexceptionable. IRELAND. ARCHBISHOP M•HALE ON THE IRISH CIIIIRP.H. DUBLIN, JAN. 25.—The Evening Freeman's Joit.nal contains the following letter:— "TO THF: maul' HON. SIR ROBETT PEEL, BART. " "Si r6,—t. ja I\' ri h h t st '8; T you u am' survey il' east w' of i St. Timothy, singular 4 satisfaction lBs. the wide extent of spiritual bondage over Great Britain, you are, doubtless, mortified by the painful contrast of the spiritual freedom of Ireland. And anxious for the diffusion of this religious thraldom, you fear that its reign cannot be permanent or secure until the light of its Catholic faith is extinguished in a country so conti guous as to be likely to become cont;:gious. It is not the first time that Ireland, an exception to the surrounding servitude, roused the envy of the despots who doomed its liberty to destruction. Such was the policy, which we are told by Tacitus, Agrippa had in contemplation. He despaired of establishing the dominion of the kipe rial arms over Britain and Caledonia as long as Irish freedom was, in the language of the ancient historian, within view. And you, too, improving on his policy, despair of perpetuating the worst despotism of heresy, under which the once favoured land of England groans, as long as the light and freedom of the Roman Catholic faith burns with such steady strength and lustre in the neighbouring island. "Hence the untiring exertions of that Protestant ascendancy, still so hostile, to extinguish a religion which is a living reproach to the revolting errors that disfigure the face of England. Witness the lamentable fruit of those errors in the entire disorganisation of what is termed the Church of England, and in the hideous in testine discord by which its crazy frame is falling asunder. Witness, too, the dreadful immorality which is their offspring, and the prevalence of those unpro voked and gratuitous crimes which, in despite of the insolence of its journalists and the homage which wealthy nations are sure to extol, even unto the palliation of their vices, have made the moral condition of England a word of warning over the civilised world. Are you ambitious to sink Ireland to the level of the same degrading social materialism ? Should you succeed, instead of the occa sional outbreaks of revenge which humanity abhors, and which would have been frequent were it not for the in cessant influence of religion and its priesthood, you would witness a fierce spirit of national indignation which not two, nor all the spare legions within your command, could repress. So much is the tranquillity of the country and the stability of the throne beholden to the pious and disinterested exertions of its calumniated priesthood. " The lamentable state of social disorganisation to which I have alluded is felt and deplored by many of the English prelates, who confess they are unable to apply a remedy: witness, for example, the ludicrous embarrass ment of his Lordship of Exeter—to day issuing his episcopal mandates for ecclesiastical uniformity, and re voking them again, it is said, at the imperious requisi tion of the Minister of the Crown. Such of the members of that body as possess a tolerable share of learning, whose intellect ranges beyond the small pale of the An glican Establishment, and the brief period of its disastrous schism, surveying the social happiness enjoyed by the nations when the Church was not the chained handmaid of the Crown, are in a condition the most pitiable. While their zeal is animated by the heroic fortitude of the an cient champions of the freedom of the Church they fancy for a time that they can imitate their example. No sooner, however, do they engage in the attempt than they are obliged to own that from the Establishment, though retaining some of the material features of a church, the spirit that animated and informed it is gone; and instead of the holy vigour of an Ambrose or an Anselm, who arraigned the cruel delinquencies of royalty itself, they are silent on the crimes of the nation, because they must regulate, by the nod of a political minister, the nature of the pastoral instructions. " No doubt you are anxious to bring about a similar reform in the Catholic Church in Ireland. If so, you must expect it will be productive of the same disastrous results upon morality and order. It is as a step to this complete subjection of the Catholic Church to the State, which, no doubt, is your aim, you have introduced the fatal measure of the Beque is Bill, and by its fruit you may judge of the wisdom of the policy which, in an evil hour, you have adopted. You have avowed that your difficulty was Ireland. Have you not increased and thickened those difficulties by this disastrous measure ? Never, within the memory of the oldest of its inhabi tants, was Ireland in a state of more frightful excitement. And why ? From the encroachment you have striven, but I hope in vain, to make on the freedom of the Ca tholic religion. And allow me to tell you, in all since rity, that, as you are now about meeting the Parliament, your first measure must be the repeal, the total repeal of that penal law, root and branch, if you wish to restore tranquillity to Ireland. I will not fatigue you or the public attention with the detail of any of the arguments against this iniquitous law that are now as fami liar as they are forcible. Whoever can resist the evidence adduced by Sergeant Shee t and principally by Mr. O'Connell, of the ruinous effects of that law, if un repealed, on the best interests of the Catholic religion. must have an understanding steeled by prejudices which no argument can apprcrach. The question has been so argued that persons the most illiterate, as well as the most enlightened, are in possession of those arguments, anti hence an intellectual and religious opposition to that measure, deep, wide—embracing all orders and all classes—laity, clergy, priests and bishops, gentry and peasantry ; in short, spread over the entire country, and fast as the hold which their faith has on its people. " When it was announced that three estimable and 1 venerable prelates were associated to the Commission to carry this odious act into effect, the public mind was stunned, and a sudden grief fell on the heart of the na tion. Their sorrow was intense ; they felt by the novel connection that the freedom of their Church was in mani fest danger, and the appointment, like a dam chafing and fretting the current which it was intended to check, raised it still higher and gave it further force. " There are not in the world a people who feel more veneration for their prelates than the Irish people, and, therefore, you must suspect that the measure .must be bad which could produce dissensions in a body, the members of which the spirit of Catholic faith and con cord keeps, in general, so closely compacted. It re quired no extraordinary sagacity to perceive that you, in looking for the aid of Catholic bishops, sought not to support the Catholic religion, or to exalt its priesthood, but rather to buttress the tottering fabric of Protestant ascendancy. If you meant, as in policy as well as jus tice you should have done, to legislate on a principle of common fairness towards the Catholics, why not recognise in law those canonical rights and apostolical jurisdiction on which this penal law incontestibly en croaches ? Yet, with the attempt to injure and de grade, you, and a few hollow economists, take credit to yourselves for ac k now l e di ng , f or the first time, the rights and titles of the episcopacy in Ireland ? Yes, you acknOwledge to insult them, and even the honour you show has in it all the bitterness of scornful derision. How do you honour even those venerable prelates whom you have made members of your ministerial board? By giving them the titles of bishops without sees, and em blazoning over their heads the sole and exclusively legi timate titles of others to the same sees which their sainted and heroic predecessors would never have consented to acknowledge. " There cannot be two lawful bishops of the same see. The respective epithets of Catholic and Protestant might, if compromise could ba at all admitted, mark the distinct sources of their Apostolical or Parliamentary jurisdic tion. But instead of this, the Protestant prelates are blazoned forth as the Archbishops of Armagh and Dub lin, without any qualification, while, in insulting and sub ordinate contrast, the Catholic prelates are announced as archbishops of—nowhere. But you give them a prece dence, a rank in society ! Yes, you strip them of their rights, as far as in you lies. You amuse them with the sha dow of ceremony, which is unmeaning but as far as it is significant of substantial rights and duties. And you humble them with the condescension of your insulting patronage, such as you would exhibit to some exiled and fallen dynasty, fixing on them more strongly the gaze of pity. by the mockery of a homage of which you disown the legitimate fouedation. What would her Prime Minister think of the respect of any individual for royalty who would allow her Majesty the name of Queen, withholding her rightful titles of Great Britain and Ireland, on which it is founded ? Surely, the recognition of her name could not disguise the want of fidelity necessarily included in any such omission of her rightful title. Of what in consi►tency and confusion is not bigotry productive ? You would fain confer on some of our bishops a Parlia mentary jurisdiction which you are incompetent to give, and deprive others of their apostolical jurisdiction, which you are as incompetent to take away. And, by way of indemnifying the one for the indignity of master slaves, to which you labour to degrade them, you give them ministerial licence of making a similar invasion on the apostotical rights of their brethren. You expect that you will do all this to prolong the existence of that anti-national and odious Establishment, some of whose prelates, their fellow-benchers, poured forth but the other day their usual contributions of orthodox hatred on the idolatry and tyranny of the Church of Rome. But, no ; more valuable by far than the degrad ing honours of the oppressors of the faith are the confi dence, the attachment,. and affection of the devoted Catholics of Ireland, who, instead of denying the titles, the jurisdiction of their beloved bishops, will revere them as the only legitimate occupants of the thrones which some of the most eminent of the successors of the Apostles have adorned. " Immediately connected with this subject is the affectation of a new-born reverence among the here ditary enemies of Ireland for the rights of the Roman Pontiff. If you really revere the centre of Catholic unity, why endeavour to strip the Catholic bishops of their titles, which his Holiness has conferred, and without which, and the spiritual influence they confer, none of those bishops would be deemed worth a moment's negotiation to relieve the embar rassments of a Prime Minister. Perhaps this feeling is like the prodigal's appreciation of virtue, from the habit of sinful courses, springing from the evidence of the disorders into which a privation of that light which issues from the Apostolic See has so long plunged the popula tion of England. If so, then we should hail such a feeling, and help their faint and tottering steps in re turning to the light and merciful consolations of that paternal home from which they have been so long stray ing. Oh ! no, it is the envious feeling of the fallen spirit at the happiness springing from truth and union ; and their tongue, like his, strives to dart forth in glozing flattery the venom of destruction. They may spare themselves their officious solicitude about the conduct of the Catholics of Ireland. In the fight for their faith the Irish Catholics are no raw recruits. Thanks to the per secuting policy of England, and the atrocious code of her sanguinary edicts, the Irish Catholics, in defend ing their faith, have been made the most prac tised champions upon earth ' • and they have not com bated so triumphantly and so long without the convic tion that they owe their signal triumphs to their unex ampled fidelity to that holy chief whom the Master placed over the Church for their guidance. They will then cling—as their pious ancestors have done — cling to the rock of Peter ; they shgll labour, too, for the peace ful recovery of all those rights of which, on account of their attachment to the chair of Peter, they have been deprived —nor shall they suffer any power of Parliamen tary creation to intercept one particle of that homage we all owe his Holiness, or of that spiritual jurisdiction, of which he is the best guardian. And allow me to ask you, who are they who in reality are making inroads on the power of the Pope, and striving to make a mockery of his jurisdiction ? Is' it we who constitutionally labour for the repeal of the Bequests Act, which is repugnant to the canons of the Church, and not in accordance with the principles of the Catholic religion or those who, without consulting the Holy See, strive tyrannically to enforce so penal an enactment ? Before the Commission was named we sought, as was the duty of Catholics, that this question should be re:erred to the decision of the Holy Father ? We were told why refer to the Holy Father a question regarding mere tempora lities ? Such was the unceremonious way in which the authority of Rome was treated. The people meet—re solve, denounce the unconstitutional encroachment on their civil rights : they are told that they violate the obedience due to their spiritual superiors by their deli berating and resolving on a matter which they should leave to a spiritual tribunal. Thus the Pope inu,t not decide because it is a temporal matter ; the people must not decide because it is a spiritual concern, and during this unprincipled and sophistical shifting, the prophecy of a celebrated writer is sought to be realised by the erection of a ministerial and political papacy in our own kingdom, directed by the nod of the Premier, disregard ing on one hand the authority of the Pop:, and on the other striving to crush the religious and political rights of the people. " Whoever reflects on the career of Mr. Anthony Blake, his evidence before a Committee of the House of Commons, and his being a member of this Commission, must, unless the Commission be speedily dissolved, enter tain serious fears for the continuance of the Pope's sub stantial authority in Ireland. When I consider that he has been the old advocate of the veto, and of every mea sure for fettering the freedom of the Catholic Church, the pliant and dexterous follower of every successive Admi nistration, whether Whig or Tory, the self-appointed patron of Maynooth College, in order to project, I sup pose with Mr. Thomas IVys:, how far it may be feasible, by a little dOniestic concordat, to effect some change in the system of the teaching of its faith, for an increase in its finances. In short, the concoctor of a scheme of a royal Commission of bishops to manage the payment of the Ca tholic clergy, and to inflict the penalties of misdemeanour on the others who should not yield to the usurped powers of political bishops of the Parliamentary Com mission. When I consider how on that occasion he trifled with the authority of the Pope, recommending a course of penal legislation, and then leaving the Pope to shift for his own authority the best way he could; when I reflect that much of what.has been suggested has been already done in establishing the Commission of the Be quests Act, lam only consolei by the reflection that the mischievous projects of the man will be defeated by the pious zeal of the Catholics of Irelond in procuring a total repeal of the law, and, were it not for this their zeal, I fear that as a public and political character history would have to record, that since the disastrous event of Protestant ascendancy a worse importation, or one more fatal to the Catholic religion than the same Mr. Anthony Blake was never wafted back to Ireland. To Lord Stanley this gentleman would be a most valuable acqui sition in the colonies. How humiliating the prospect of the once glorious Church of Ireland, when its pastors allowed their holiest rights and duties to be invaded and usurped by such scheminc , political adventurers. "I cannot, therefore, but deplore the misdirection of the patriotic feelings of some ardent Irishmen combating the phantom of a foreign temporal power, while they are heedless cf the enemy that is threatening them at home. Instead of being alarmed at the exercise of any undue power from abroad, what is desirable is to pre vent any encroachment on the Pope's hallowed autho rity in protecting our Church. Some are also in ecsta cies rather immoderate at the diplomatic announcement that no negotiations are going forward on the affairs of the Irish Church between the Holy See and the British Government. Even should their not, what grounds are there for congratulation ? What need you require a concordat, if, even without one, you can erect your Commission at home, and delegate to it a Parliamentary jurisdiction to invade the rights of the Catholic hierarchy ? What more do you require ? Lord Hey tesbury hopes, indeed, that the Catholics of Ireland will, therefore, be contented. Yes, they will be less sus picious when the Bequests Act is repealed, and the Be quests Board dissolved ; otherwise his Excellency's pro position amounts to this Be not alarmed ; we have only made a breach in the walls of your Church ; hold, forbear your meetings ; put confidence in us, your old and trusty friends, and we will pledge ourselves to halt at the gates and make no further advances o n y ou r re ligion.' It is also made a subject of similar congratulation, that should a concordat be negotiated, all then would assist in averting such evils from the Catholic church. Instead of wasting our solicitude on distant and con tingent dangers, we should be alive to the imminent evils of the Commission now established at home, and labour to close the breach which has been recently made in the bulwarks of its holy discipline. It will not be enough to say—' Allow the present incipient usurpation of the rights of the bishops to be firmly established, and in future they will obtain every necessary assistance in repelling future aggression.' Such is their mode of deal ing with the evil who talk of amendments in the Act, and the removal or modification of this or that objec tionable clause, while they allow the encroaching and invading principle of the Commission itself—the vigorous root of the evil—to remain. No, the successful step of letting any portion of the Act remain would only prompt you or any other Minister to invite other prelates to join him in a fresh assault on our liberties, by another new Com mission still more penal ; the example once given by good and enlightened men, of joining one Commission in disregard of the known wishes and feelings of, in general, the people, the clergy, and the majority of their brethren, might be successively adopted •at some future day by others improving on their models, until the citadel of Catholicity would thus be surrendered, and almost all the sacred functions of the hierarchy be usurped by motley aggregations of political and Parliamentary Commissioners. " Let, then, your first recommendation to Parliament be, the repeal of an Act which the mischief already pro. duced should he a warning of the more awful calamities with which it is fraught. A law so penal to religion, and so utterly repugnant to the interests and declared will of the entire people, would, according to all sound civilians and jurists, be downright tyranny to enforce. You feared, if we are to judge of the night combinations of law and armaments to which you resorted to crush them, the display of popular power exhibited by these monster meetings. The malignant spirit of your Be quests Act has evoked a far more formidable agitation. Yes—the people of Ireland, and its clergy, love their country. They are solicitous for its prosperity, and will give every aid comp a tibl e w ith their respective duties towards the restoration of a native Legislature. But, they love their religion more—the one being a temporal, and the other an eternal interest. Indeed, so much are, Ireland and the Catholic religion bound up together in the system of English domination, th a t it wou ld b e diffi cult to separate the interests of one fiom the other. To the spoliation of their country's rights, religion has often reconciled the Irish people. Their history has attested that they are a nation who, for that holy religion, are ready to sacrifice their lives. " I am your faithful servant, JOHN, Archbishop of Tuam." FRENCH PLAYS.-ST. JAMES'S. This theatre opened last evening for the season, under the able direction of Mr. Mitchell, to whom the play-going public are under great obligations, for having given them that which no other metropolis in Europe is without—a regular French Theatre. We well remember the sneer of incredulity with which Mr. Mitchell's first announcement of these per formances, some four years since, was received. The season, however, proved a successful one ; but still the croakers were not silenced—the thing would not suc ceeed when the novelty wore off; but a second and a third season followed, each more successful than its predecessor, until now the French plays are as completely naturalised among us as the Italian Opera, and we look forward with;quite as much anti cipation of delight to the commencement of the season of one of these delightful amusements as to that of the other. We have already given an account of the general arrangements for the ensuing season, and we shall therefore proceed to the peformances of last night. Mons. Lafont, of the Theatre des Varietes, and Madlle. Nathalie, of the Theatre du Gymnase, made their first appearance before an English audience last evening. The pieces chosen for their debut were the vaudeville of Le Mari a la Ville et la Femme a la Campagne and the comedy of Pierre le Rouge. In the first piece M. Lafont sustains the part of Lam berti, an artist, who, having left his wife in the coun try under the pretence of going a tour in search of the picturesque, is enjoying himself as a bachelor in Paris. His wife, who has heard that he has broken ;his neck in Switzerland, comes to Paris to pass her widowhood, and hears everywhere of Lamberti as a man of a Loupes fortunes. She at length gets a sight of the celebrated lady-killer, at once' recognises him, and writes to him, appointing an assignation. He has not seen her, but an assigna tion with Madame Jurigney (for that is the name she assumes), who has set half Paris mad with her beauty, is too delightful an appointment not to be - kept, and accordingly Lamberti is true to his time. He finds there not Madame but his friend Emilie (M. Louis Dechampt), to whose sister he him self has been making love, and M. Daubonne (M. Tourillon), an old beau, both of whom have received similar notes from Madame Jurigney. At length the tady appears, to the confusion of Lamberti, Ayho recognises her at a glance. She, however, feigns not to know him, 11 d carries on A flirts- ADELPHL The taste for pantomime, though strong' in its perio dical recurrence, and catered for with wonderful in genuity, seldom lasts more than a few weeks; and the managers of theatres, therefore, are generally ex pected to provide, at the expiration of that period, new entertainments to succeed the frolics peculiar to the season of Christmas. Accordingly, the lessee of the Adelphi Theatre presented last evening to the judgment, and, As it proved in the result, to the approbation, of a crowded audience, an entirely new piece, the succe , s of which was as complete as could be desired either by author or manager. It is entitled The Green Bushes; or, a Hundred Years Ago, and is the production of the well-known author — for such he is at least by his works—of the Wreck Ashore, Victorine, The Dream at Sea, &c. The plot is deeply, almost painfully, interesting, and we shall proceed to give a brief outline 'of its prin cipal features. The rising of the curtain introduces us to a scene in Ireland, on the Galway coast, where thq peasantry of the district, consisting of both sexes, are ;assembled in Irish garb and fashion, close to a primitive-looking whisky tent kept by Paddy Kelly. The chief parties In the group are Nelly O'Neil (Mrs. Fitzwilliam), and Wild Murtogh, horse-jobber, piper, and general dealer (Mr. 0. Smith), all the rest being only appen dages, which, like the shillelaghs of the males, have little to do with the plot, however important in the visible representation of the whole piece. To avoid prolixity we shall state the plot itself, as gradually developed. It appears that Connor O'Kennedy (Mr. Selby), a landed proprietor in the neighbourhood, has fallen under the displeasure of the Irish Government, and orders have been issued for his arrest. He has a younger brother named George (Mr. Hudson), who covets his brother's possessions, and, in order to prepare for the execution of his plans, he enters into a league with Wild Murtogh to bring about his speedy departure—a step which he promotes with great earnestness, both with Geraldine, his bro ther's wife (Mrs. Yates), and the brother himself, under pretence of being solely anxious that he may escape the impending arrest. Everything is arranged for the departure—the ship ready to sail—and Connor O'Kennedy in the act of taking leave of the people of the neighbourhood, when, through the treachery of Murtogh, in order to obtain the reward of one thousand guineas offered for the discovery of his brother, a party of soldiers, placed in ambush, nearly succeed in effecting the capture of the fugi tive, who, however, escapes on board ship amid the hubbubl thus, occasioned. The next act transports us into an entirely new region. The scene is now in America, or, to speak more precisely, in the valley of the Mississippi. A hut is the first object presented, and the explosion of a gun is a prelude to the entrance of the heroine of the play, Miami, the Huntress of the Mississippi (Madame Celeste), whom we discover to be the daughter of a Monsieur Aubert, a Frenchman of emi nent station, and his Indian wife : both have been buried near the banks of the river. This daughter, however, is not entirely solitary : from her soliloquy we find that she is married, and in a short time we see Connor O'Kennedy enter the hut in the garb of a hunter, and are somewhat astonished to find that he has become the husband of the beautiful huntress. The match, as the cognoscenti in such matters would naturally anticipate, is not entirely a fortunate one. The bigamist has troubled thoughts of Geraldine and his child, which all the devotion of Miami cannot entirely disperse. At one time ho is seen by the audience in the act of reading a letter, in which Geraldine, amongst other things, tells him that George has possessed himself of the greater part of the property, and that if she do not receive news of him soon, she shall come out in quest of him. An affecting conversation takes place between himself and Miami in reference to his fits of sadness; but she never appears to suspect the real cause. The plot, however, quickly begins to develop itself, when Geraldine appears, tracking her way to the hut, which she reaches, faint and exhausted, at a moment when O'Kennedy is alone. Whilst the latter is in the act of supporting and soothing Geral dine, the Huntress suddenly makes her appearance, and observes them from a wooden bridge ; and inde scribably exciting is the scene which follows. She raises her gun several times for the purpose of firing, but at length lowers it and retires, apparently with the intention of seeking a new home. It should be mentioned, in passing, that she had overheard a con versation which disclosed the real position of the par ties. O'Kennedy conducts his wife to a forest in the neighbourhood, and here he is destined to pay the penalty of his offence in uniting himself to Miami. Whilst he and his wife are seated on the ground, Miami wanders through the forest, and, on observ ing the pair at a distance, is seized with a le: ice of COURT CIRCULAR. WiNnson, MONDAY.—The Queen and Prince Albert took equestrian exercise in the riding school this morning, attended by Colonel Bouverie. The unsettled state of the weather during the day, has prevented the Royal Family from being taken for their accustomed_airings. The Marquis of Douro arrived at the Castle to-day, on a visit to her Majesty. The Right Hon. Sir Robert and Lady Peel also arrived in the afternoon, on a visit to the Queen. Her Majesty and Prince Albert walked in the pleasure -grounds and Home Park this afternoon. The royal dinner party at the Castle included her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, Lady Fanny Howard, the Countess IVratislaw, Sir George and Lady Couper, and Captain Francis Seymour. The band of the Scots Fusilier Guards were in attendance during dinner. Her Majesty's private band afterwards attended at the Castle. The Duchess of Gloucester visited their Royal Highnesses the Duchess of Cambridge and the Here ditary Grand Duchess of Mecklenburgh Strelitz yes terday, at Cambridge House. A Cabinet Council was held yesterday afternoon at the Foreign-office. The Ministers present were Sir Robert Peel, the Duke of Wellington, the Lord Chancellor, Lord Wharncliffe, the Duke of Buc cleuch, Earl of Aberdeen, Lord Stanley, Sir James Graham, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Earl of lladdington, Earl of Ripon, and Lord Granville Somerset. The Council sat two hours. Sir Robert Peel left town immediately after the Council, accompanied by Lady Peel, for Windsor Castle. The Master-General of the Ordnance had an inter view with Sir Robert Peel yesterday. The Earl of Dalhousie, the Hon. Sidney Herbert, and the Hon. Francis Charteris, had also interviews with the Right Hon. Baronet. Sir Robert and Lady Peel have issued invitations for a grand dinner party on Saturday, the Bth of February, at their residence in Whitehall-gardens. SAMBRE AND .MEUSE CENTRAL RAILWAY.— Among the foreign railway projects under consideration, may be noticed those upon the merits of which the Belgian Chambers will shortly be called upon to pro nounce, for communication in the country lying between the rivers :iambre and Meuse. There are, it appears, two parties whe are entitled to contend for the conces sion in this case, each having complied with the condi tions imposed upon the subject by the Legislature. The project of one of these parties is distinguished as the " Western line ;" that of the other as the " Central line." The former has its terminus of departure at Marchinnes au-Pont, where it joins the State Railway, next ascending the valley of Eaux d'Heure to the summit, and then de scending the valley of Virouin to Vireux, which is the ter minus of arrival. Thelatter, or Central line, commences at Charleroi, the central point of the collieries, blast fur naces, and other establishments for the manufacture of iron, and proceeds along the table-land, passing through the centre of the iron ore district to Sarice, and thence to Vireux. The principal feature which characterises the Central line is, that its route is directly through the mineral districts of Charleroi, Morialme, St. Aubin, Florence, Stave, and Ont. offering facilities to the proprietors of the coal and iron mines for the transmission of the mineral production of their land, which the Western line cannot accom plish. The mineral formations of this district of Bel gium are different from those of our own country, for it is well known that the iron is found in one spot and the coal in another, there being a distance of many miles between. It thus becomes highly necessary that an easy and economical mode of transit should exist from point to point. The Western line entirely avoids this dis trict by going to the westward of the valley of the Eaux d'Heure, so that if that line be adopted by the Cham bers, the disadvantages under which the mineral dis tricts have for so long a period laboured will be per petuate 3. Since the Central line has been surveyed and , clearly understood, its merits have been fully appreci ated by the inhabitants of the country through which the line will pass, for petitions in its favour, signed by all the proprietors of land in the immediate neighbour hood of its course, have been forwarded to Brussels for presentation to the Chambers. Such is the account given us of the two projects by a known corre spondent, who is well acquainted with the subject. A memoir has, however, been drawn up illustrative of the claims to support, on the part of the Belgian public, of the proposed Central line. The work is from the pen of M. Augustine Delaveteye, civil engineer and to which, as English translations have been printed, reference may be made for all the requisite details.—Post. GRAND CONCERT, SUSSEX HALL.—Last night a concert, on a grand scale, was given at the Sussex Hall, Leadenhall-street, and was attended by an auditory of morn than 1,200 persons. The entertainment was opened with Bishop's glee, " Sleep, gentle Lady," by the Misses A. and M. Williams and Mr. Machin, which, both in the execution and the reception, was a fine promise of what was to follow. These young ladies are daily improv ing, and bid fair to stand, before long, in the very fore most rank of their profession. Mr. Machin in this glee and in his other performances of the evening, was much applauded. Without particularising the separate merits of the several artistes, it must suffice to say, that each one was received with the utmost favour, and well merited the applause awarded. We cannot omit to men tion Miss Lucombe, Miss Sarah Flower, and M a d ame F. Lablache, with Mr. Allen and Mr. Russell. In the course of the evening Mr. Cohen performed a fantasia of his own composition upon " The Conquering Hero." A burst of applause interrupted him at the close of the first part, and at the conclusion he was honoured with act encore, to which, by some unaccountable mistake he did not attend otherwise than by the bow of thanks with which he retired. THE ROYAL BucEuouxna. — An untried deer was uncarted yesterday at Winkfield-street, the meet, at which nearly one hundred were present, taking place close to the church. The deer took away across Foil john-park to New-lodge, where it doubled to the left to• Bray-common, on to Fifield, through the forest - to St. Leonard's-hill, and thence by Spital to Clewer-green; crossing the New-road to Clarence -crescent, at Windsor, swimming over the Thames to the Boreas, on the Buckinghamshire side of the river, and then making for Barnspool-bridge, close to the College, beneath which it quietly reposed up to its haunches in mud. The hounds and huntsmen in the mean time proceeded from the Berkshire side over 'Windsor-bridge. The deer, upon being dislodged; made for Tangier Mill, at Eton, and again swam over the river to the Lock, and thence again crossed the Thames for the third time, landing in the Eton College playing fields, and was run into and secured at Blackpots, the residence of Mr. Bat cheldor, after a run, from first to last, of an hour and a half. The deer was housed ai the Christopher Inn, at Eton. The meet to-day, which has not been publicly announced, has been appointed to take place at Ivor heath, at eleven o'clock. INCOME-TAX.—A petition against this tax is in the course of signature in this city. We observe that the names are headed by that of our worthy chief magistrate, followed by many of our chief citizens. The distinction between an income-tax and a property-tax is noticed, and the gross injustice of being both alike put in a striking light.--Berwick Warder. TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN. SIR,—As the course of French policy would seem to be little understood in this country, I would ad. dress a few words on the subject. In 1840 I hap pened to pass through France from Switzerland, at the time of the rupture of amicable relations with that country, and when it was considered that war was inevitable. In the same diligence were several of the Deputies, who did not hesitate to avow their belief that our object was to obtain possession of Egypt—a country which it was equally evident that France had determined to possess at some future period. 'Whilst they expressed with French politeness their high regard for Englishmen as individuals, they unequivocally expressed their hatred of England and her policy ;—they said we were a grasping, proud, domineering nation, and that our policy was opposed to the aggrandisement of France. They said that England had risen to her present position by her commerce, and that alone ; so did Carthage, but Rome vanquished her by force of arms ; so did Tyre, but an army swept it from the map of the world. Their arguments resolved themselves to this, that the strength of England was her commerce ; that what ever injured her commerce injured her; that whatever injured England benefited France—therefore the gist of French'policy should be the destruction and cramping of the commerce of England. I ask what entente cordiale there can be with such a nation and on such a basis ? Have they not shown their policy ? Else why send a fleet to China, where they have no trade ? Why seize the islands of the Pacific, where British missionaries had shed their blood, and British Christians their money, in the work of civilisation, and where the French name is known but to be abhorred ? Why invade Morocco, but to cramp British commerce ? Why open her arms to the United States but to excite feelings against England, and close one of her best markets for her manufactures ? 'Why seek an alli ance with the royal family of the Brazils, but to esta blish French influence, and exclude, by a bigh tari ff, British manufactures ? Why attempt to seize the territory contiguous to the Gaboon river, but to _ ob tain the means of destroying our African trade ? i ‘ t V y o u o l p d p b o e s ne e a fi t rail ß r w i t a i.s y h fr o o o m m a e i r r e o e o a n S d u e t z? u h ro w ße l c i a od s e e r British influence a country where she hopes, ere long, to erect her standard, and thereby pave the way for her conquest of Africa. In Abyssinia she has long had her emissaries ; her people, unfit from their native disposition for commerce, envious of the pros perity of England, would seek to raise their own commerce by the destruction of England's. I will only add, that no man is fit to guide the policy of this country who pays deference to French interests, or even French threats; they durst not go to war, as all Europe would be against them. Let England strengthen herself by a liberal commercial treaty with Russia. Russia, has timber, 'corn, oil, flax, tallow, hemp, and many other productions of essential im portance to England. England has manufactures, and wants a market. Russia is now well-disposed towards England. Let th,e moment be embraced.— I am, Sir, your obedient servant, London, Jan. 24,A LONDON MERCHANT. FRANCE. CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES, JAN. 25, M. Guizot (who was in possessio n o f the trib une whoii the post left) in his reply to M. Odillon BarrOt, deniet-. that any threats had been made by the British Cabinet, and observed that the French Government litufziot, eon; sequently, been influenced by fear in its detekmination. The gravity of the situation, he said; revealed' itself by degrees, and by certain symptoms, ' which M. de Jarnac remarked and communicated to his Government. Those symptoms and facts did not modify the ideas which the Government originally entertained, or change its resolution. " There must always exist between Eng land and France," said M. Guizot, " courtesy, regard, , : e. O l proceedings, mutual advantages, 'and concession. Any other conduct would be shameful, and sooner or later fatal. When I hear men say that those sentiments are not reciprocal, after what has passed during four years, and particularly during the last six months, I think I am dreaming, for I can hardly conceive that facts should be so perverted or badly understood. I could, if I wished, lay before your eyes the relative situations of }ranee and Eng land, and all the facts relating thereto in all the points of the globe, and you would see that everywhere the ad-' vantages and concessions are reciprocal between the two countries ; you would see that wherever we had any ob-' ject to carry our policy, so far from losing ground, in consequence of our intimacy with Great Britain, had rather gained. French influence in Spain, in Africa, in the East, in Greece, in Italy, everywhere in short, has increased." M. Guizot then contended that that mutual good feeling was particularly manifest in the affair of Otaheite. When France had accepted the protectorate of that archipelago, in which the English Government' indirectly predominated through its missionaries, tradi • tions, and the habits of the country during the last forty years, that Government had viewed that measure with displeasure; nevertheless it had acted loyally, sensibly, it had not contested the right of France, it had even accepted the protectorate, and sent instructions to that effect to its agents, and on that occasion the good feeling, the acts of complaisance and conces sion, were not on the side of France. M.'Guizot admitted that in the case of the occupation of Otaheite, France had responded to that friendly disposition of England. "We considered," he said, " that the absolute sovereignty would not be advantageous to us, that it would modify the character of our establishment, that it would render the complications which it was likely to produce between us and England more difficult and delicate. We refused the absolute sovereignty, and we acted wisely; for, al low me to remind you, that the temporary protectorate had endured for a space of fourteen months, with diffi culties and embarrassments, but without any serious event, without any insurrection, or any appeal to mate rial force. Scarcely, however, had the absolute sove reignty been proclaimed than sedition and revolt per vaded the island. In this second act of the affair I con fess it was the French Cabinet who evinced regard to wards England; but it will be admitted, on the other hand, that in the first two acts of the affair there was at least reciprocity. I now come to the third act—the explosion of the civil war and the expulsion of Mr. Pritchard. Two facts have been overlooked—first at the moment when Mr. Pritchard was expelled he had been recaled by his Government ; he had been removed from Otaheite and sent elsewhere. England had taken into consideration our remonstrances on the inconve nience of continuing Mr. Pritchard at Otaheite ; she had given us satisfaction by recaling him. When Mr. Pritchard was expelled, he demanded that an inquiry be instituted into the facts with which he was charged ; he asked to be tried, and repeated that request after his return to England. He maintained, wrongfully, I believe, that he was a stranger to the explosion of the civil war and to the revolt ; he cont en d s t h at it would have been impossible to convict him, had he been t r i e d, f or want o f proof. Our agent s at Otaheite did not deem it expe dient to adopt such a course. I approve their conduct. I regard their conviction respecting the intrigues of Mr. Pritchard and the danger of his presence as well founded; the trial would have been difficult and dangerous, and per haps productive of no result." M.Guizot then described the effect created in England by the expulsion of Mr. Prit chard. "We wished," he said, "to give time to the agitation to subside ; we assumed a passive and expectant attitude, persuaded, as we were, that this result would be attained when the truth should become known. We were strongly urged. Nothing was officially demanded from us, we were in nowise threatened. No Government in Europe, whether friendly or indifferent, would presume to address in any shape, directly or indirectly, any menaces to the King's Government. We did not require to be told that the situation was serious. We knew that a solution should be given to it ; that France should take a decision, and say something on what had occurred at Otaheite, otherwise serious events would be the, con sequence. After a month's delay, we made knoin to the English Government our opinion and resolUtion. We maintained that our ageuts had the right to expel Mr. Pritchard, and that they had acted properly in ex pelling him. We then added, as I myself stated to- our agent from the beginning, that we regretted and disapproved certain proceedings and circumstances in his conduct. I persist at present more strongly than ever in that opinion, after what has been said at this tribune. I greatly apprehend that the sentiments delivered in this hall may cause a confusion in the minds of our agents scattered all over the globe, and impress them with a false idea of their situation and duties. We think that the proceedings to which I alluded, and which a brave officer, full of devotedness for his country, con ceived he could resort to at a moment of danger, might have been dispensed with, that they were unnecessary, and that he had a sufficient force at his disposal to have acted otherwise. Such was our opinion, and we gave it without hesitation ; we thought, that at the very moment when we firmly asserted our right and the exercise of that right, we should tell the truth respecting accessory faults ; we thought that the continuance of our good relations with a friendly Government was well worth the admission of those errors of an agent of the King. We ac cordingly told the truth, and disapproved his conduct." M. Guizot next justified the promise of an imdeinnity to Mr. Pritchard, not on account of his expulsion, but because thb proceedings which the Government had blamed might have produced the injury and sufferings of which he complained. "We did not admit," he added, " the truth of the facts on his own assertion. We promised to give him an indemnity if his claim were well founded ; the facts will be verified on the spot-by the English and French admirals, and if those facts be such as Mr. Pritchard describes them, the arbitrators will fix the amount of the indemnity." M. Guizot again observed, that the situation in which the Government had found itself, during the:whole transaction, had been extremely serious, having been placed between the alternative of a compromise or a rupture. " The compromise, of which the Chamber knows the conditions," he said, " appeared to us as equitable and proper. The English Go vernment was of the same opinion, and, strange to say, it is at this very moment accused of the same errors and faults with which we have been re proached. As for us, we do not regret what we have done ; we did not hesitate, nor should we hesitate to-day, if it was to do over again. lam convinced thit on the other side of the channel Sir Robert Peel and Lord Aberdeen will have the same thoughts and hold the same language that I do, and that they will not either regret what they have done. lam convinced that the two Governments—and I will say the two countries— will congratulate themselves on such a compromise having averted such a rupture." In concluding, M. Guizot de clared that the policy pursued during the last four years had been good and honest, useful to the country, con ducive to its interests, and morally great ; that, in order to succeed, it required the frank and firm support of the great powers of the State, and that if that support failed completely, or was not sufficiently firm to enable the Ministry to continue that policy with success, he and his colleagues would cease to charge themselves with it. M. Dufaure followed M. Guizot, and after examining at some length and condemning the conduct of the Ministry . in the Otaheite affair, thus concluded :—" If you acquiesce in the approbation which the Committee claims in behalf of the Ministry you will add an evil to an evil ; to the act of the Ministry you will add your own act, the act of the organs of the popular sentiments of this country. You will declare to the garrison of Otaheite that the indemnity granted to Pritchard was not only accorded by the Government, but that the Chamber of Deputies has accorded it a second time." The discussion having been closed, on the amendment of M. Malleville, the President put it to the vote. 'Tim result of the first trial was proclaimed doubtful by the secretaries. It was rejected, however, at the second, but by so imperceptible a majority that many pronounced the amendment to have been carried. The assembly then adjourned, amidst the greatest agitation. A correspondent is desirous of calling the attention of the Post office authorities to the great inconvenience experienced by merchants in the heart of the City for want of early intelligence at the Lombard-street office of the arrival of foreign mails, when such arrivals take place after the morning delivery of letters. On Saturday, ho states that inquirers could not hear at three o'clock whether the llamburgh mail had arrived or not, although at two o'clock it was announced at St. Martin's-le-Grand that it had. This certainly is an evil ; the communica tion might be made from the chief office to that in Loni e bard-street in ten minutes after the arrival of t h e mail posted at the latter place in the usua l w ay. — Times. DAregret respected e x A t N o learn t gentleman at B a l. Dna , OF i e suddenßAi-Lc'li and. lochmyle, on Tuesday last. We have h ear d i tstita i , unexpected3lLE.-101 u r OF demisereaders C LA of u t n williiis Ar . e b v et r ,4 i .i o x u t s variously we know not with what degree of accuracy, that th e de ceased will be succeeded in his estates of Ballochmyle by so u either t h b a r and hu his younger brother, W. M. Alexander, E N ~ of South bar, been a ibtairn, whhiso•n, liptio n accepting Ballochmyle ; or is absolutely bound to relin quish Southbar to his next younger r, in order brother, take up the vacant ent a il. M r. W. M. Al to Alexander, it Is well known, has laid out a very great deal of time and expense in th e i mprovement of theSouthbar estate ; the extent being i n d ee d i nconceivable to any' one unac quainted with that gentleman's taste and talent for agri cultural improvement. So that unless the Ballochmyle property is vastly superior, the latter alternative would be a hardship probably not contemplated in the original entail.—Kilmarnoch Journal. CITY NON-FREEMEN.—A number of actions have been commenced by the City Corporation against several wholesale houses, for penalties for trading in the City. Those actions have been brought in the Lord Mayor's Court, where the City authorities are judges; whenoe there is an appeal to an obsolete Court held in St. Mar tin's-le-Grand; and thence to the House of Lords. The claim of' the City is grounded on charters granted in the reign of Edward 111., and it is said that those char ters only extended to retail trading, and that their validity is very questionable. Arrangements have been made between Mr. Charles Pearson, the City solicitor, and Messrs. MapleS and Stevens, the solicitors to the associated non-freemen, for bringing the questions to a speedy decision, and in as fair a manner as possible, and Ithe next courts in February or April are expected t o be occupied with the subject. Tsl ~-.. ..\\