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

SP __...._.__-......_._.___.0RT1 _. _ NG INTELLIGENCE . 11, t, 1)1.11BY RACES.— WEDNESDAY. I.‘a ehstsworth B:dies of 10 rots. each. with 50 added '?', t he I) -4 of Devonshire, the second to save h ~,.4 : ' °. One m;le end a half. (20 Subs., 10 of w Qui lir e.ia 3 Sovß. c.,,±ch.) 4r. , s t i i't Cloth wol ker, 4 yrs, 7%1 4'b 4 }ear l's Wild Rose 4 yrs, 7st 71b ••• Th e I,o,othwtsstr.rfield Stakes (bilaOlength. his stake. T.Y.C. (14. y .Y e ers ud, the sec..ndst(o)ves•veeach., i/ n s tl ) and 50 84(3413, w,, ~....t:4lbingt.'s The Cutkr I'd' enlllip%'s La Juive ... „. Won by a Lc - al. Sir prh,, Innkeepers' Plate of 601. Two na :los . k r. ere^ Clothwilker, 4 yrs, 9st 41b ••• ' . kr, itrlll3*a Getrral Sale, 4 yrs, 9st 41b •44tuninis Jesse, 4 yrs, Bst 61b ••• *** ... Th e s Won easily. , ' ellit tg Stakes of 5 ssv..' each, and 30 added. alsi),,, Beats, one mile. -(5 Subs.) Ilse,3',': 1)-trisey, 3 yrs 5 t 13 1 ) ... '"eu'e3's Lyeie. irs, Bst 131 b ••• t. l' • h o e .1.1,3P'G,11P1 RACES.— YESTERDAY. _ ,_ nny. d 0 , tne first two days to which the " Von the ile`4'l4,. trersiors are limited, was, without exception, bei tel , /t aver issued, and sufficietisly acccunted for ' the totfityhi:4'nfjotrhietygoseneral attendance, and for the absence the rins.. Hari the bli of f rr b and 14 frsare"eirat'Y good, the'firhness of terroiaa! by the special train from the t ‘ b V e at w e r r e e l a r o a t o g - e e br c , l o d ni ge . Itri,,, ;,Ivetilil have ensured at least an a l atte r * , ',_:le programme for this day is, in all re.p• cis, als (e the events to come off being five in numbe . !._ a i t tl e : IN ottthe Surrey and Middlesex Stakes, Queen's . PI ill tieh, r ' ee in butts, with the probabiFty of six runners U 1• the The entries are given underneath. . The Q"eistiltining yeet.rday a brief return will suffice. _. teb , t r Cup of 50 sors , by subscririon of .. l v el e, 9 v st s . si t itt °! three 3 - ea rs o'd, 7st ; four, Bst 51b;. s tl a ., ,, _1 Ilb ; 01 aged, 9st 31b; mares and . gelding extra ll ; ,wed the eiaeer"vat!ees for maidens and winneas ac., an d toilet). to be sold for 500 sove., if demanded,(s Subs.) 1,, r1 h scribe to the Cup in 1851. Two miles. (5 1 lii?q.zixiater's Little Jack, 3 yrs, 7st (••'• of ' Dark_ , Vii,Bs n e,:nheete's c b • Sir Hercules, out e a , - I rs. Est 9.b 1 (Robert Sherwood) ) 2 3 are,,,„ r p, . (Reeves) Sli t , ' kr- dpus 4 yrs 831 7119 la SI r a is " (Snit) 4 8 - elf s: ~ ...01bd, 5 yrs, Bst 111 b mat 1' 1 14 to 1 en Little Jack, and 3 to 1 apt Dark "%eh b e race for the tart mile was reduced ll, to th a e krou r etween Little k and Dark StISS c 33 min. it les Wittnieg cleverly'by a length. Run in Th e ; •ta , e 25 added ; ire e , ur Stakes al6 sove. each, with five, 4. Il l'il bid 9st 101 b; four, lOst 101 b ; h 2:.;112/1_ 'WA, 1 Ist 121 b ; th e nil not he added ; the sr cord to three sa to ve st start, o ' r i t i la s e t istnliZer t ' ) be sold for 250 Zr ,f; res'ee _riders. miles. baisstk & e c! sovs., if demanded, 445 - Z 1: : ' ie al)e 5 Twore(Mr. Berkeh 10 ft°'"lllil Stakes): f 25 sort' each s w 5O added, wit.b ., Sat 31b ; y)— walked over. 'fortei niler ve y„ ra old colts, 8A 71b ; bilk Y l O sot ' ' " 4 4 , 1 4 "Ir a • 3'b d 51b allowe T d, x a ti . n c i d i . le t ' h ( e 9 w s i u n h n s e . ; ~ aof p ‘ i eb I. td,erards expeesss. out of Mar e,seliiati , Toed 8 bf by u g ly Buck, os 0. E r st d b .. (Flatman) 1 I t B r lt ,be3theota's e...b..y. * _...r...a . n . ************ out of Bellezzs, (Dockeray) 2 . b. _ ........ • ...... 14' 4 , tr,,,, , ................. . ..... , J.,. Sharp) 3 4 . est ie 14'in sjiellon, 84 71b . W on in a ,e,4b ~ two ltngths. Ja 11 -414 1 h r -i ' t( - ) Con Alar ellina 511 3'• t kes of Stove't' Plate c.:l 50 covs , g added to a S !lion a bad third. weeps a five 5, t c e4ell; three ' ..ld 6st 121 b, fur Bat 71b, allowed lid s, k and yrs c std 3; the 'imagedat 9st 31b; mares and geld . all t ) be sold for 200 sous. liPaY krawate4 if to be wild for r i f bg de s . mancled, a n l n f. e r to (G. Browne) 1 1 ii i ;: R N - ,1, 1° , t he fund . Heatv, one mile leas ; au th d e a w h i 1.1.: 1143110)LEODIV8 Beebee Bat:mot:l,4) rs , .I:larding) 2 2 1 bcito ittington, 3 yrs - ((..T. Mann) 3 3 4 4 Lady Francis, 5 yrs Won in a canter. Iht4t PIXTEIRES FOR THIS DAY.. 'etion, 4 yrs, i l i1b....5.,00 MIDDLESEx STAKES.— it''4ll.6%ltosalia, 4 yrs, Bst 51b—*Escape, 5 7st 121b -14 Dir t' Fishs 4 8 - t Chrerful, 4 Yrs. 7 . t 21b yrs, 8.1 '`Tf aan 4 yrs, '. —* •• 1 Jack, 3 yrs, • b 1 3t, 'a , le et ,,' Yrs, Tat 610— Li,t e Its. Th ' P . 4 3rs with*Ballet Girl, 3 yrs, 1 4 % 4° rca'ked - an asterisk are expected to h 'IN I Nk Y ST A 1tr4.411)1,6e,._,, XES.—Heroine, ( . 1 - t , d m u_ 2. yes—MonTen m s 4 i_er_ 3 ,26:y e rs a — rb ris c t l i e e ' uff 4 , tariv'Ewil PLATE of Conyngaa I a ge d. _ b veloci liir.' 0 11' a rt4,TE,--St. Rosalie, 4 yrs—' 3 yrz -att. '-• ..Atie G 1• 3 vrs—Little Jack, tko Inp , , , era .Iw, ~ by Sir Hercules, ~,.! of b e,.. , : . 3 r5.......-rhe s we d e . , 3 yrs—e „, ,:_ us, 4 yrs Nli 4 Su san• 3 Ts—Escapes 5 Yrs — k-esl 'P t• I le nnt l ( I •t Ir . • ? se lint oo '' 9 , t-ite), 3 yrs. h i : 4 I , ' `,IVEEI•BTAKEs —Chris t ia na , nti l IDIIO 4 - , e , (t , f t.-- ° by bit. 9. rcules out cf Dark Su an, 3 4 4,,,- 3 14: ~ Y. l Hood, 3 3 rs. 4 yrs—Bring' on, 3 \it i.tettitii7L.Es ---8ee!),.0 Bunnoo, .re mod, 3 y rs 4 1qtli, 0 : 4 3 - , 5 yrs—Normanton, 4) r ,. , curly nph a to aged. 6 tl fit ;:1 rTIeG ON ' THE COURSE. i B l o t p! 1- AND - MIDDLESEX ST , 310 .1. Itch: Jet 1t 15to 2 1 11 QtIE,IT YORKSHIRE STAK C Es. ham ages A S K L E R s' osalia Champion t,e fi s t Ltrongbow • 7 to 1 asst In tl oa Is •to , Telt: ST. LEGER. Bolingbroke tapjaßeur 1 P st 11 ft..,e,t(p)rstz)(l.t)aken 20 to g (taken) -e Niss li to take 10 to 1 about 13 , ehun t te 2 r. o'clock. PA itnia,„„ to-day (Thursday), a kb it ttell ee tES R ACES.—TerEsuAv.l5 adds el (6 s e 8 ), ive Btikke t• 2 soy- file), 4o u r e a s o 414, l ' f '• 3 , ut l In three heats by Mr. a .t n 'i d ck , r l i . n es g , ' s s IKrihillh .lv,,f t. (t,-'nai hl, beating Mr. Hargra 4 yrs— th,; l'ett''sh4 Y r. i - -I.fr. Hotiby G. Bond's As , ass 3 'qui.. ••N - hbone—Mr. 's Shareholder, th , yr, ro3- erg . i t h ll l t' ' t , 4 . ,; — „ tl ed Mr. Bond's Miss Ann„ ' 4) f3tl 4 mild Park Stake' of 3 won 410 1 ,,,1'es 11%41-4 Eltd three•quarters (3 Subs), 3wers,7st SOya. each, a ,e nd 25 12 :0 00 p1 - ,,; 4 411 Ur. lioloforth's Wilmont, 5 14 '4 l til a kr g t tinu Mr. Pattison's Gracy, Ath,l(lari,'„—eek'; Alma, 3 ' yrs, 7st the il',vte r , ~41 Stakes of 3 sous. r each,. ha, 410 , l' 3 , 11 in two heats by 411(1 k - I,' bel ting Colonel Arthur s Mr. Bifch ß 's ir g il u i e m e e n , of fi 1% ---s'll 'date's The Drummer, aged, ... I ... 1 ... 2 ... 1 ... 2 EL E 4 o p , CRICKET. dtatNGLAND v. TWENTY-TWO OF j 4 tid tram PETERBOROUGH. til ke 94 ateh was resumed at Peterborough on hp 11 4 ", .s tl, 4 41 0 °II the preceding day; there was an th e a ge of spectators. It will be seen by a Ot th age of the that the Twenty-two obtained the m r% 1,4,1:ne Eleven by 23 on the first innings, and tfi k t th e 'atceedecl when time was called in lowering 4° tit ti tr°ll g England wickets for 15 runs only. ttaa. p• t close of Tuesday's play was as follows : t trBt THE ELEVEN. aR ut, r _ ,a mu gs. 13‘, fsbtltutt,rses; .............. 2 (1 11 c ttre ss •.• ..... 9 4NI r••••• ...... •34 krti e t tt „ Inley .. o, t4 Rel t, e l • .......... ... 29 .. 0tt ....... b . 7 ............. 0 b Tinley 41 4 ° '4: 1 ,, 5q ks) Lottrets .... 0 43 'ers. Coleman, • M a rtoi l) ;:... ................ 20 c Mayers, b Tinley 1 4! 14 °„ 11 t u ,.! 4 asers ... 0 C • ... 2 not out erdes, a ... 3 • Lies, ........ .....0 c Jackson, b Buttress 14 ............ 0 ot k i ...... ... 14 Second Innings. Total l5 1: ,. ........ ............ 110 vtenT,a,t PETERBOROUGH. I;4f ao:ersc Wisden, b 11111- • -Aso; Esq., b Csacu ..... ..,_ -44111, • „, bll illyer ...... - •••• '. 0' ire 4, c Chatterton,"b Clark 4 .41:,s.aitt, t.) Ilillyer -- 19 IV„ i ' l 'k, e Ftlix, b Mynn ....... ••• 4 ilti,c'ilvard• e Felix, b HillYer— .... .. 19 Aia,..iorc,t Claatterton, b Martingell . 7 11 brl oge, b Martingell 3 11.1. `SIR -4' s Esq , b Hiliyer 0 4. et4l.4n, llyer 0 11411 ' t b 11.11ver . 0 jq•S ‘.' sq' 1 • ''''' • Iv s tuth, run out ..• • 111 143.-qi, Hillycr ... • ......... . 1 0 0 klvql, b Ifillyer ... • .. j tier, b Martingell ••• 13 1 F I,nst,, c Felix, b Blartingell G 41,13'46'4N, b Martingell 0 F.. R - " n 't'n b bilker 0 Dee %I ' ..' 5 Fien, c Py, b Ilillyer 1 ... . G . 1111% ttocl►x, b Martingel . 4 litt e 7 }l' , ttot cut - ••• 3 ' 4 21 leg byes 2, wide 3 ,yer BEADI NG he 1)1 • BRA MSUILL. WITH SHERIRN r AND ROYSTON. 11 4 1 4 4 (4111t1:i! )3:latch between the above clubs was ° 44 tt lit p . j'l'l last, or! the Reading Ground, when OF h:Gt i 16 were a main victorious, Laving . cud a t the close 1 01 , 4 A 414 rnB in the first innings seven headed their ti 411,04 q °II t oae being called,wickets to go ie? of rent This match brouht together a large c) 4ti t li e tlng filen s froth t couri ties. ''''' et. I . 'ti all parts of the Total ~ 133 1) N4 1 ,- PARISHc,„.e IN THE 04 -altiltell OF "WAKEFIELD. of the A() . Ut iday. . o th4 at (,teit.Y evening this town was the scene . in g OUt ith- 'aq t went in consequence of the . ca t rr io y a kli t tl e r n .te of the Richmond Ecclestas 17-t-9(3annrdt kii ri 4 ,Qt:.,ellt) corner, years of 14,)k hjai ',411%11 upvvard • S of seventy Some sen., corn-merchant age, t i 1-esteemed inhabitant of the town. 1 ohs 8'1)t. A t brother `lie NV I: 13S Pernandt z, whose the al to 4 .'el(1 806 mills, was receiving th ii 4a of but he town, . 4 lat t h 4 respectable merchant of t .andmiss i 3 lessee 'Elt141.1)1-fzwittlas rathe,r abruptly broken ctli tilt ) 4t/nie lUedla.ely lest her home, for , e. where her residence the Apt,„ k i , ) , ) she took up. a I followed upon „, and proceeded ulAtit ,lerons reports speedily ,_ off; and 441, t alent. ..1 4 ,,N o. b , --, of the match being brcuen was _ Mr. th.l4 1/„-'4 who reile.ted these rumours n to a „ erd , 1 _ , Itl e ,. to have said e 1- • 'tilt • t "''n., who appears iretate i)ltss Fernandez bad gone aw hot ity Mr. ri ?'aer. uPon li.in called on for his au, Consequently a Illtlv eltild not 'g " • .eir. ic., ay from home I.ll4,ti:tS iNtit...e.or would not.gq e _ I, <4l Court'o'._a_isgainst him in h the Court was L eo4 1(1 U l l a 71 theilldgratrit of in the vestry of Richmond Ecc that N to , eli pari ,ta3r pertorrn penance _ a re la 41;10a, derothurch, and there and 411 1 ,, i 'fl. whi,.\al, alld apology of anc , l ,_ Mks E'er. hi ; 2 s ,t -1 were t o be dictatei: by ~,,,e,;_t i n t fo h : n th r e E.a :l i ander, til l oa r (Mur• .1.. 11. , ''' .'ii 1'"1"1"u` teP Nikki aatICI a ......er 1 . ,- Nab,. to hi "'tenuous opposer Episcopal "nil 14 this submission to the ..._. '• - ht of church- rtt • highly 4.; 13441iitrly galling. Am. .., .. , . spected is this district a very large concourse of per sons assembled round Mr. Horner's residence at an early hour this morning, and at the appointed hour formed a long and imposing procession to the church. with Mr. Horner at their head. At the door of the church one of Mr. Horner's sons entreated the sym pathisers—whose cheering, clapping of hands, and waling of hats and I andkerch'e's had been unbounded —to retire, f,tr the sake of his father,: as well as out of respect to the day. Notwithstanding this ap peal, and the fact that a heAvy rain was falling, the thousands who had assembled remained quietly in front of the church until the con;pletion of the pe nance, which was performed in the presence of the churchwardens, and selected friends of both parties, and then the whole re• formed and returned with Mr. Horner to his home. Here, from an adjoining win cow, a long paper was read, detailing the facts of the charge and trial. Many cheers were given during and after the perusal of this documert; and then, at the earnest entreaty of Mr. Horner's family, the vast assemblage dispersed. There was a large body of police`present during the whole preceedings to keep order, but no attempt at disturbance tech r lace, though the utmost excitement still prevails through out the town. THE TWEED RAILWAY VIADUCT This magnifict nt structure spans the broad valley of the Tweed at 13, , rwiek, and completes an important link in the chain of railway communication between Loadon and Edinburgh by the East coast. It forms the northern extremity of the York, Newcastle, and Berwick Railway ; and in magnitude of construction and grandsur of design is not only the greatest work on that line, but is, perhaps, one of the most remark able architectural achievements of modern times. The Tweed viaduct connects the York, Newcastle, and Berwick Railway with the North British line, thus forming, with the other railways having a con nection with them an uninterrupted communication from London to Alaerdeen. The foundation stone of this noble structure was laid on the 15th of May, 1847, without any public ceremony. The viaduct consists of 28 circular arches, each of 61 feet 6 inches span, springing from lofty piers 8 feet 6 inches broad at the narrowest point. One-half of the arches span the river—here a bread and beautiful stream—and the remainder are built on the neighbouring land, south of the Tweed. The total length of the bridge is 2 160 feet, and its greatest height, from the bed of the river, 126 feet 6 inches, including the para pets. Its breadth between the parapets is 24 feet, allowing a double line of railway to be laid. The viaduct is built entirely of stone, with the exception of the inner part of the arches, which is brick, laid in cement. There are about one million and a quarter cubic feet of masonry in the structure; and two mil lion and a half of bricks have been placted in the arches. The greatest depth of the water, at high tide, is twentytthree feet. The design of the bridge is elegant ; and the para pets are adorned on the outside by miniature corbelled arches. Ons -half of the viaduct—that which spans the river—is in a straight line ; and the other half curves to the east, on a radius of half a mile towards the south side. The roadway has an incline of lin 200; rising towards Berwick. The piers of the bridge, which are protected by handsome cutwaters, are carved up perpendicularly, and are narrowed near the spring of the arch, by means of offsets. The parapets and springs of the arches are ot . polished stone, but the rest of the masonry is only rough hewn. The ap pearance of the arches is extremely graceful. The Tweed viaduct, formally to be opened by her Majesty to-day, is perhps the largest stone viaduct in the kingdom. S ,rue similar structures may be longer, but less in height, and others may be higher, but not of such length. The last arch of this mag nificent bridge was keyed on the 26th of March, 1850, by the wile of the resident engineer. A • single line of rails was opened for public traffic on the 20zh of July last, and the other line, on the east side, is to be opened to-day, for the first time, by her Maje sty. The bridge is secured at each end by substantial abutments ; and in the centre th€re is another abut ment, less in size than the other, dividing the arches into two sides. When one-half of the arches had been erected, it was considered desirable, for the ac commodation of the traffic, to erect a temporary bridge across the river, without waiting the com pletion of the stone viaduct, so as to avoid the un certainty of the river operations. This. temporary timber viaduct was about 1,200 feet in length, and of the same height as the permanent bridge, which it joined at the fourteenth arch. Workmen are now engaged in the removal of this singular structure. The quantity of timber used in the construction of the stone and timber bridges was not less than 300,000 cubic feet. The foundations of the permanent viaduct now completed were of a very expensive and difficult cha racter. In the execution of the ceffer.danis, Na-. smyth's patent steam-piling engine was used with great success. Two of these were at woik night and day, as well as an engine of 50 horse power, for pumping the water out of the dams. Piles have been extensively used f,,r securing a stable foundation, the ground principally being loose sand and gravel. No less than two years were spent in driving the piles and laying the under masonry. The large embankment at the south end of the bridge, five-eighths of a mile in length, and in some places sixty feet high, completes the junction of the Tweedmouth with the Berwick station, making a total distance of one mile. It contains upwards of 700,000 yards of earthwoik. The contractor at one time employed 2,000 men in the various departments of his contract. The entire cost of the viaduct, amounting to about 200,0001., has been borne by the York, Newcastle, and Berwick Railway Company. Her Majesty is expected to christen the structure, "The Royal Bor• der Bridge." _ - MESMERIC MEDICINE IN PARIS. In Paris, for the last few years, another system, heterodox both in faith and practice, has prevailed, and arrived at such a pinnac'e of imposture, that the authorities have been forced to interfere , and put it down by the strong arm of the law. Need I say that I allude to the practice of medicine by the somnam bulists. It was, in truth, an agreeable profession, and withal easy, being practised for the most part by ft number of young ladies, who, having been rejected at the Conserve tory of Music, took up the art of " nervous and lucid clairvoyantes." Of nervousness there was little, for a more brazen set of nymphs could not be found ; but their lucidity was immeasur able ; for, not content with seeing round a corner or through an iron pot, they looked into the other world, and held delightful conversation with your deceased parents. All of a sudden, in fact, and as by miracle, was the art of somnambulism applied in the happiest manner to all the wants of scciety in general, and to medicine in particular. For the former the lady herself suf ficed ; for the latter she was aided, " horresco rcle rens," by some young physician, who played the double part of accomplice and lover. For a long time affairs flourished. The fee was ten franca, and the number of curious " legion." Every one wanted to be informed about everything. For the triflieg sum of tan francs were you cured of a mortal diseese, or informed of the precise spot in which millions lay buried. " Dig deep enough," was the only condition annex , d. A demoiselle, named Virginie, is among the most celebrated of our somnambulists —chiefly consulted by our ladies in an interesting situation. It was she who announced the other day the delivery of Queen Isabella of a dt ad Prince. The error, you see, was only one of time • but she made a more grievous one shortly since. One of oar most celebrated dandies, who is at the same time a hunchback, consulted her the other day. The flay voice of the dwarf led her astray, and laying her finger on the " bosse," she in formed the astonished dandy that he was enciente. But the " forte " of these ladies is the dis covery of thieves. Fur ten francs Madame Jose phine (extra-lucid) will describe the man who picked your pocket. With such a rare quality, thief-takers, lawyers, and judges became use less. It was an economy of several millions to the state. The Attorney-General got jealous, let loose his myrmidons, and caged all the aforesaid ladies, lucid, extra-lucid, and triple X-lucid, together with the medical men who had lent their names to the imposture. The latter are to be prosecuted as accomplices in swindling; the ladies for the illegal practice of medicine. _ Oae of the most remarkable and not-to-be-explained circumstances of this case, is that not one of the lucid ladies recognised the police magistrate who was charged with the duty of drawing up the proas-verbal, and then arresting the culprit. They were all seized in full consultation. One extra lucid, indeed, mistook the commissary of police for a patient, and demanded ten francs, with a lock of his hair. Unluckily the representative of the law wore a wig. Many medical men, of whom we had judged better things, are implicated in this unfortunate tran saction, and, unless chaece favour them, will be se verely punished, fur the scandal has been great. No one will regret their fate. — Medical Times. FUNERAL OF THE EX-KING OF FlANCE.—Yes terday morning. at nine o'clock, the body of this illustrious personage was deposited in the leaden cL.ffin to contain the remains. The whsle of the family, with the Abbe Gnille, &c., were present, and the c(f in was hermetically sealed. This coffin will be placed in one covered with crimson satin. CHESTER AND HOLYHEAD liAlLWAY. — Traffic for the Week ended Aug. 25, 1850: C. and H. Main Line, 3,486/. 6s. 2d.; Mold, 1191. 2s. sd. ; Steam-boats, 3461. 8s: 4d. ; Total, 3,9511. 11d. We have several large vessels in the Bight clischarg log timber, from Amelica, for Mess:s. Ward and Follett, the crews of which are liberay discharging their cash amongat tie inkeepers and olbcF.;. The) gaiing 9n as fast as time mill admit, Frost (f boo having to 111ake a seQorAl voyage .cross the At lantic.—PiyntoutkGazett e . THE HAGUE, AUGUST 27.—L01a Montea has just suriytytl laire.-41andclailad. THE ROYAL VISIT TO CASTLE HOWARD. CASTLE HOWARD, AUG. 28.—The weather, which throughout yesterday was wet, stormy, and disagree able, has cleared up this morning, and though there has been a smart breeze blowing, her Ma=jesty has been enabled to see the beauties of Castle Howard in all the advantageous lights which sunshine and a &ear sky imp.rt. She had hardly arrived yesterday evening when darkness closed in, and though the rain had.almost ceased, every object looked dismal, except the lights gleaming from the windows of the royal banquet room, and from the lofty cupola of the dome surmounting the centre of the building. At the din ner covers were laid for 35, and among the company present, besides her Majesty and Priece. Albert, were the Countess of Carlisle, and Lady Mary Howard, the Duchess of S itherland and Lady Constance Leveson Gower, Mr. C. W. Howard, M.P., Cap`ain E G. Howard, M.P., and Mrs. How ard, Mister Howard (heir presumptive to the title aed estates of the Carlisle family., the Hon. W. F. Lascelles and Lady Caroline Lascelles, the Hon. F. and Lady E. Grey, Mr. Prescott and Mr. Prescott, jun., Viscount Clifden, the Hon. J. A. Elk, Lady Dover, the Hon. Milo; Ellis, the Hon. Miss Dima Ellis, Lord Duffsrin (Lord in I\raiting), the Merchioness of Douro (Lady in Wait ing), the Hon. .Miss Lennox (Maid in Waiting), Colonel the Hon. C. B. Phipps, Colonel the Hon. Alexander Gordon, Sir George Grey, Sir James Clark, Major Trench, and General Sir W. Warre. From an early hour this morning groups of visi tors, most of them country folk, began to assemble in the park, their movements along the avenues and over the greensward giving to the whole scene a very ani mated appearance. The stables where the royal equipages were collected formed an especial object of' attraction, and all the ornamental edifices with which the grounds abound caine in for their due share of inspection. The principal group of spectators formed in line along the roadway opposite the north front of the castle, and here they waited till the royal visitors should make their appearance out of doors. Their ' patience was somewhat taxed. Her Majesty and the Prince breakfasted at ten o'clock, and about eleven walked for some time in the private grounds and woods on the south side of the castle. Here several trees were planted by the Queen to commemorate her visit to Castle Howard. Her Majesty in the course of the morning visited the principal apartments of the mansion, and expressed her admiration of the many interesting and valuable works of art which they con tain. Among other objects, one, which I omitted to notice in my letter yesterday, is the pillar from which the Pythoness delivered her responses in the Temple of Delphi. It, is about three feet in height, and a plain round block of sandstone without ornament of any kind. An additional interest attaches to this curious relic of Greek mythology from the fact that it was presented to the Carlisle family by . Lord Nelson, whose glorious victories are commemorated by a small but not inelegant pillar raised on the grass-plot K hich occupies the hollow space left by Ihe semicircular form of the castle on its north front. At 12 o'clock the royal party visited the cricket ground, and witnessed for some time the play of the Castle Howard Club NT hile engaged in that truly national sport. The Ea'rl of Carlisle is particularly fond of this game, and the spot devoted to it in the park being surrounded by an amphitheatre cf noble trees and ornamented by flags and tents, has a very pretty appearance. About 2 o'clock luncheon was provided in the castle for a party of 70, and after it the royal visitors proceeded to inspect the fine herd of short horned catt:e with which the park is stocked, and upon the merits of which Mr. Henderson, the Earl's land-steward, feels a very natural and laudable pride. 'The stock of cows deserve (special praise fur their symmetrical proportions eed evident purity of breed. A catalogue cf them which I have seen records their names and descent with a care and particularity worthy of the College of Heralds, and not ieconsiktent with that regard for " blood" which, if justifiable in any family, ought to be so among that of the Howards. At 3 o'clock her Majesty eau! the Prince drove round the park, and admired the splendid prospects Red the stately avenues with which it abounds. There are many noblemen's seats, the grounds round which display evidences of a more active superintendence and a more expensive outlay, but there are few with a richer variety of scenic effects dependent upon the natural beauty of the woods, and the fine undulating sweep of the land. The whole proceedings of the day were of the most quite, unostentatious character, and in complete keeping with the privacy which her Majesty wishes to preserve in visiting Castle Howard. So little formality was there that the crowds of visitors flocking there to catch a glimpse of the Queen, and who during the morning kept respetfully at a distance, in the after part of the day occupied, in the form of a well-conducted meh, the (n -tire approach to the castle, up to the very steps Of the main entrance. Her Mjetty was received wherever she went with every sign of loyal at tachment. The number of people assembled was very cons:de.rable, but not so large as to produce the tumultuous character of a town demonstration of loyal t y Times. THE SUBMARINE TELEGRAPH BETWEEN DOVER AND CALMS. S'T'RAITS OF DOVER, WEDNESDAY EVENING. The interesting exeerircent of sinkieg submarinely with success the t toctric telegraph tetween this port and Ca Lis, ere] which is dt stirsed to form the future key for instant cemmunica ion with the European continent, was practically commenced this rnoming, at half pa:t ten o'clesek, at which hour the Goliah steam-ship, provisioned for the day, and with a crew of some thirty men, was brought under weigh within the harbour. There were on board, Dr. Reid, Mr. J. C. Wollaston, C. E., Mr. Crampton, C.E , Mr. J. Edwards, Ceptain Beer, and several ecirntilic gentlemen, with many persona on the pier to see the cons oy start. The Goliah rode out to the Government•pier, with her telegrapHo tackle and apparatus on board, under a calm sea and sky and a favouring wind. The connexion between the 30 miles of telegraphic wire, 1-10th of an inch in diameter, and ercased in a cocci kg of gutta perehs, the thickness of a little finger, and which was coiled rouud a large cylinder or drum amidship 15 feet by 7, was then made good to 300 yards of tl.e same wire enclosed in a leac'en tube on shore, to prevent its being bruised by the shingle on the beach, and to enable the experimenters, as they proceeded out to sea, to send communications en shore. The vessel heing fully ander weigh steamed cut at the rate of three or four miles an hour into the open sea in a direct tract for Cape Grinrz, t Nentt -one miles across the channel, the nearest landmark to the English coast, and lying midway te tween Gelds and Boulogne. The wire weighed five tons, and the cylinder two. The vessel was preceded by Cap tain Bullock, R.N., of her Majesty's steam-ship Wis-l geon, who accompanied the experimenters as a pilot, and who had caused the track of the navigation to be taken to be marked out by a succession of houys, surmounted with figs, on the whole route between the English and French coasts. The operation of paying out the thirty miles of wire commenced on a signal to the s :Hors to " Go a head with the wheel, and lay out the wire, which Ras continuously streamed out over a roller at the stern of the vessel, the men at every sixteeenth of a mile being busily engaged in rivetting on to the wire square leaden clampi or weights of from 141 b. to 241 b. and which had the effect of sinking the wire in the bottom of the sea, which on the English coast commences at a depth of thirty feet, and goes on varying from that to 100 and ISO feet, which latter, or thirty whom!, is anywhere the greatest depth. The whole of the casting out and sinking was accom plished with great precision and success, owing to the favourable state cf the day. Various interesting salutations were kept up hourly during the progress of submerging the wire between the gentlemen on board and Messrs. G. and W. Brett, the original promoters of the enterprise. The only conjec tured difficulty on the route was at a point in midchan nel called the Ridge, between which and another ine quality, called the Varee, both well known and dreaded by navigators, there is a deep sub-marine valley, surrounded by shifting sands, the one being seventeen miles in length and the other twelve, and in their vortex, not unlike the voracious one of the Goodwin Ssnde, ships encounter danger, lose their an chors, and drift, and trolling nets of fishermen are fre quently lost. Over this, however, the wire was success tully submerged below the reach, it is believed, of either ships' anchors, sea animals, or fishing nets. The re , mainder of the route, though rougher on approaching the coast of France, was accomplished cleverly but slowly; but, as the expedition had not reached its dcsti nation to enable cur correspondent to announce the gratifying fact under the bottom of the sea by tele graph, and thence by the last express from Dover at eight o'clock, he will be compelled to postpone it until such time thereafter as the Goliah shall have reached Cape Grinrz. (BY SUBMARINE TELEGRAPH.) CAPE GRINEZ, COAST t• F FRANCE, HALF-PAST EIGHT, P M. The Gofish has just arrived in safety, and the com plete connexion of the underwater wire with that left at Dover this morning is being run up the face of the cliff ; c( mplimentary interchanges are passing between France arid England under the strait and through it, for the first time. The French msii, vt mos est, may not arrive at Dover at the time of going to press ; but, in a short time, on the necessary arrangements being com• plete, Paris news and closing prices at the Bourse will be Communicated by a mail that sets time and detention at dtfittrec. Pr INCE A 1.73 KjiT ' S El RTH-DAY. — Monclay being the anniversary of the birthday of his Royal Highness Prince Albert, a royal salute was was fired from the Castle guns in cele'sration of the occasion. His Royal Highness has completed his thirty-first year.—Scotsman. DEATH FROM LOCK JAW.—Last night Mr. Lang barn, deputy coroner, held an inquest at the Plough Taverns. Carey. street, Lincoln's Inn-filds, on the body of Richard Wilmot, aged 37,a stableman, living at 19, Shire-lane, who died from lock-jaw. About a week since the deceased, who was in a good state of health, received a puncture in one of his toes, through a rusty nail penetrating his shoe. The wound festered, and a few days afterwards he went to King's College lio,rit , tl. r. here Le had it lanced; the wound healed, but on Motiday he was seized with symptonts of lock jaws'and on the following day he was removed to the hospi tal, where he expired. Verdict, " Died from tetanus, pro duced by a puncture tom a rwty LITERATURE. IN MEMORIAM. By. Alfred Tennyson. Although its authorship is not in any way acknow ledged upon the title- page of "In Dileinoriam," it has already become so well known throughout the reading community, that we here mention it without the slightest hesitation. To affect any doubt upon the subject would be to assume in the shallowest manner an air of critical discernment. Not but that the present effusion contains in every stanza abuneant evidences of those p oe ti c b eaut i es wh i c h cou ld a l o ne have emanated fr o m th e genius of Mr. Tennyson. Indeed we cannot r ema i n f or an instant d u bi ous as to whether under any c i rcumstances we s h ou ld no t our selves have detected that delicate sensibility, that melodious diction, and that all-abounding daintiness of metaphor which have acquired for our author the recompense of his perennial popularity. All oppor tunity, however, cf revealing in this way our appre ciation of his peculiar gifts was denied to us by the rumours which traced the present volume to_ his in tellect, even prior to the day of its publication. It has consequently so happened that almost from the first moment of its appearance the public have been more or less aware of the occasion in which have originated these exquisite poems, modestly and touchingly en titled "In Memoriam." From the circumstance of their bring preceded by a date and certain initials, it has been surmised that they are commeniorative of the death, in 1833, of Arthur Henry flellam, a son of the distinguished annalist. As a bosom trieeal of the de ceased, and, what is yet mere, as his intended brother in-law, mourning over that untimelyediesipation of so many beautiful visions of the hereafter, Mr. Tennyson has raised this elegiac song of plrittitFee and most tender recollictiens. Since the hour when Milton, under the pressure of a like calamity, la mented over the: ashes of "L vc id as ," or rather since the time wirer] Shelley cliaunted his sorrowful eulogiums above the Roman grave of " Adonais," no such lovely and 'harmonious strains of anguish have been audible among the various music of our litera ture. In this masterpiece of poetic composition Mr. Tennyson has caught his inspiration directly from the spirit of Erato, from that lyric muse whose influence is diffused so unstintingly among her nobler and truer votaries, giving eloquenc e i n discriminately to the ploughman and the p r i es t, to t h e asce tic and the voluptuary, to Burns w ee pi ng f or hi s Mary, to Petrarch at the tomb of Laura, to Abelard in the cloister, and Rousseau in the orchard. Unlike many of his precursors, however, in this school of rythmical oratory, Mr. Tennyson has only articu lated thoughts of the most unaffected grace and purity while raising his voice in the accents of posthumous adulation. Through Out so many hundred verses it is, in truth, surprising to detect not the smallest vestige of wilful eccentricity, not the most momentary indul gence of the merely meretricious. The ideas rise spontaneously to the imagination of the poet, as spontaneously as the tears well up from the depth of an agonizing memory. Everything, more over, is in unison with the sadness of the commemo rated bereavement. Even the stanzi selected by the cultivated and discriminating taste of Tennyson, al though at the first somewhat unpalatable from its monotony, becomes, from the very fact of that mono tony, so congenial in its resonance with the one theme—the one ever recurring and inexorable regret, that it ends by assuming to itself a tone of irresistible fascination. A stanza of four lines rhyming, not al ternately, but the second with the third and the first with the fourth—it is strange to find what varying melodies may be drawn from that restricted chord, the sustained vibration of which thrills to the innermost recesses of our suscepti bility. Throughout its every sound we may hear the voice of the post rising and falling in ac cordance with the rise and fall of his emotions, now sinking into dejection, now soaring on the wings of fancy to the height his consolatory conjectures : all the while the rhythm throbbing like the pulsa tions of his heart, measured, warm, and uninterrupted. Of the exqusite simplicity of the whole effusion we cannot speak in terms of too earnest admiration. Our niesnina• in this particular may be recognised at a glance, through the following eloquent syllables ad dressed to the Divinity in the impassioned tones of supplication : Thou wilt not leave us in the dust: Thou madest man, he knows not why, He thinhs he was not made to die; And thou hest made him : thou art just. What though the whole of these brief elegiac poems, written under_ the humble inscription "In Memo riam," are designated by their gifted author - Wiid aid wandering cries Confusions of a wasted youth% not such will they be esteemed by those among their readers who have had their own hearts tormented by the pangs of unavailing lamentation. To all such there will be at once perceptible a meaning in pas sages to others beyond the reach of comprehension. In their appreciative judgment the chaos of misery will resolve itself into orbits of comfort and cycles of consolation. The gist of whatever solace is here offered by the poet to his brothers in effliction may be found embodied in this ejaculation to the Godhead— Forgive my grief for one removed, Thy creature, whom I found so fair. I ttu3t he lives in thee, and there I find him wox thier to be loved. What a world of tenderness and admiration is com pressed into that second line which we have italicised I Whet noble sentiments those to actuate the poet in the expression of his grief— I trtt,t he liras in thee, and Mere • Ifini him worthier to be loved. Chequered as the sensations of alternating woe and serenity consequent upon the ex perience of some grievous calamity, the poems, in which our distinguished author here ex• presses his suffering over the loss of his beloved friend and compnion, fluctuate from the wildest sorrow to the calmest resignation. Hence, from their extra ordinary variety of mo o d, th ey co nstitute no un worthy study for the p s3 c h o l og i st. . Their philosophy, ever pure and lofty, elevat es th e so ul of the reader to the humanizing atmosph ere o f re li g i o us meditation. Their style, ever nat ura l an d symme t r i c , bewitches the ear with its terse and :variable modulations. From first to last the poet speaks with a sense rather of his subject than of himself, with an eye rather to what he would say than to how he should say it. Seldom, if ever, have wb observed the individuality of any writer so entirely merged into the theme of his pro duction, his self-consciousness being altogether absorbed by his consciousness of a supreme misfortune. It were frivolous to attempt anything like a systematic analysis of a work of suc h i nf i n i te d e li cacy b o th o f design and execution. All that can be attempted in the way of criticism is an allusion to the predomi nant characteristics of the performance, whether ob jectionable or meritorious. At once, then fore, we would transcribe the subjoined stanzas as a specimen of the severe grandeur, almost amounting at times to sublimity in the expression a sadness, for which the book, on occasions, is remarkable. We know no more striking picture of deep and breathless serenity than the following Calm is the morn without a sound, Calm as to suit a calarr grief; And only thro' the fadtd leaf The chesuut pattering to the ground: Calm and deep peace on this h i gh weld, And on these dews that drench the fats?, And all the silvery gossamers That to itkle into green and gold: Calm and still light on, yen great plain That sweeps with all its autumn boners, And eroded farms and lessening towers, To mingle with the bounding main: And in my heart, if ca l m Calm and deep peas e i n this wide air, Thes3 leaves th a t redden to the If any calm, a calm despair. i in rest :t all, Thereupon the poet harmonizes the sense o f hi s own individual bereavement with the al most oppressive stagnation A of n t d he wa h v o e u s r th a a n t d sw th a e y season them e : themselve s I Calm on the seas, and silver s'eep, And dead calm in that noble brea s t ' Which heaves but with the heaving de e p. All his matchless powers of description are lavished though ever upon [the pages of " In Memoriam," unobtrusively and incidental l y. Who but Mr. Ten nyson among our young poets could paint at onc e with such verbal brevity a nd s uggestive amplitude ? As where spe6king of the winter solstice, w h en i ce Makes daggers at the sharpen'd eaves Where he mentions a sum mer's evening, when lambing ankle - deep in flowers, We heard behind the woodbine veil The milk that bubbled in the p a il, And buzzings of the honied hours: or, again, where he exclaims -0 sound to rout the b rood of cares , The sweep I;st of scythe in morning d ew , that round the garden flew, , And tumbled half the mellowing pears! With one felicitious phrase he conjures up at will a whole panorama opening up in vistas of inter minable beauty. It is in this felicitous manner that he talks of The la i'',cg thro' the heat, orrectness, as descrip tive expre ss i on of inim itable ape wr'l of scenery viewed t hrou g h the atmos p h e re of a summer noonday. One k indred e p ith et would have c 7l • startled us into an exclamation of delight, but that we .., remembered having a lready met with it in our author's medley of the Princess." It is where he speaks of the " devvr tasselt'd wood." Occasionally, it is true, Mr. T en nyson cannot rid himself of a Li vourite mannerism, detrimental to the purity and completeness of his composition; as' where he introduces; such fantastic. s similies as th e " c l osing eaves of wearied eats. Such blemishes no vertheless are so minute in their character, and so seldom detected, that they only serve when encoun tered to mark the o,qcounding beauties of the effusion ; such beauties as the name given to the period immediately preceding death— the low dark verge of life, The twilight of eternal day." Similar in brilliancy, and kindred in character to the last-mentioned, is th•it metaphor of— That deep dawn beyond the tomb When, clear f:om raarge to marge shall bloom, The eternal landscape of the past. How happy, again, is that mention of two lovers— Their meetings ma•ie December June, Their every parting was to die And that record of— - songs, and deeds, and lives that lie Foreshortened in the tract of time! SJmetimes, but unfrequently, the rhythm is halting, the word spirit" being always, instead of remaining a di!sylable, so compacted into a monosyllible as to suggest the unpoetic sound of "spiet"—vide pp. 115, 119, 134, 13G, and 171. Again, this blunder ing of the metre is disagreeably perceptible in two instances, at page 116, in the line — To the other shore, involved in thee, &c., and in the line soon afterwards— The old bitternesJ again and break, &c., the stumbling sound of which may be readily distin guished when read with their context in the original. From such microscopic however, let us turn to the splendid and pervading merits of " In Memoriam," as a poetic composition. Not all the humility of the author in his allusion to his performance can diminish our estimate of its many and lofty excellences. We Can scarcely hearken with patience, therefore, when be observes — These mortal lullabies of rain May bir.d a book, may lice a box, May serve to curl a maiden's locks; Or when a thousand moons shall wane A man upon a stall may find, And, liaising, turn the page that tells A grief—then changed to something else, Sung by a long forgotten mind. Of the sincerity, nevertheless, of these depreciatory remarks upon the volume we are fully satisfied, seeing that the aim of Mr. Tennyson is rather to sing of the virtues of his friend than to widen his own reputa tion. In proof of this we find him saying— I care not in these fading days To raise a cry that lasts not long, And round thee with the breeze of .wng To stir a little dust of Praise. That the merits of the departed companion of Mr. Tennyson were worthy to the full of his affectionate friendship we cannot doubt for an instant after read ing that tine stanzA— I leave thy praises urexpresed In verse that brings myself relief, And by the measure of my grief I leave thy greatness to be guess'd. That all such grief, however terrible, is in its influ ence beneficent, even in the care-ravaged judgment of the poet, we can see in a twinkling, when we find him almost in tones of exultation crying out that life is not an idle ore— But iron dug from central gloom, Aril heat( d hot with burning fears; And dipp'd in baths of hissing tears, And batter'd with the shocks of doom. Nor are these consolatory thoughts restricted to mere generalities; their truth is applied by the poet to his own rflhiction, where, alluding to the deceased, he says— Whste,ver way my clays decline, I felt aria feet, though left alone, His bdpg workinz in mine own, The footsteps of his life in mine. Meditating at another mouvrnt upon cur ignorance of all celestial knowledge, he concludes his reverie thus touchingly and beautituUy So runs my dream: but what am I? An incant crying in the night: An infant crying for tLe light: And with no languko but a cry. Perhaps the most exquisitely plaintive couplet in the whole of this lovely composition is where the author speaks of moments Illienfia'd with tears that cannot fall, I biini tri:h sorrow drowning song. The incredulity felt by all those who have suffered from a similar bereavement is thus tenderly de picted : If one shouli bring me this report, That thou haett touch'd the land to-dly, And I Heat down unto the Tiny, And found then lying iu the por, Aud standing, muffled round with woe, Should sve thy passengers in rank Come stepping lightly down the plank, And beckoning tret) those they know, And if along with these should come The ruin I h(ld as hslf•di►ine; Skaould strike a sudden hand in mine, And ask a tlousand things of home; And I hhould tell him all my pain, And how my life had droop'd of late, And he should sorrow o'er my state And marvel what ;ossess'd my brain; And I p:rceireil no touch of change, No hint of death in all his frame, But Lund him all in all the same, I should not :eel it to be strange. It is with a poet's senFibility that Mr. Tennyson re joices at the burial of his dead friend in English earth, so that - from his ashis miy he made The viol t of his native hind. For, as he himself acknowledges elsewhere, it always seems sweeter to us poor mortals To rest beneath the c!ov.!r sod, That talus the sunshine and the rains, Or where the kneeling hanakt drains The chalice of the grape - lof God. Thoughts apart from the immediate subject under celebration are scattered up and down the volume, from amongst which we take almost at random the two subjoined : Tue baby new to earth and bky, What timis his tender palm is prest Against the circle of the breast, Has never thought that " this is 1." I ev,not Re the features right, When on the gloom I -trice to paint The face I know; the hues are faint And mix with hollow masks of night. Such are among the treasures of sentiment and ima gination stored up in this casket " Ire Memoriam," a casket of poetic gems laid by the hand of a distin guished writer on the tomb of a buried friendship. nose who have wept over the death of their best be loved (and alas! which amongst us is without reason of lamentation) will turn again an I again to these delicious strains of sorrow rirging round th 3 me mory of Arthur klalarn, and emanating from the golden lyre of Alfred Tennyson. To the sorrow stricken they will prove a wade mecum of condolence, insinuating in the gentlest strains of elegiac regret the precious spoils of solace drawn by genius from the abysses of suffering. Altogether, we are not guilty of any Extravagance in terming this volume "I❑ Idemr:riam" one of those masterpieces of poetic literature which disclose new and unexpected stores of beauty and wisdom at every separate re-examina tion. THE Faun() 'BussEs.—When we were at school we used i❑ our themes to select Fabius as our great standing example of delay ; but if we now required a standing ex ample of delay we should select a Pimlico 'bus as our staple commodity. The manner in which these vehicles "drag their slow lergth along" is something quite unique in its way, and we frequently make the mental observation, that as speech is often used t ) conceal thought, so a Pitnhco 'bus is resorted to in order to retard a journey. We have heard arithmeticians talk of a fixed quantity, but we never saw the idea so thoroughly carried out as we did the other day, when we noticed a quantity of passengers fixed at Hyde park•corner in a l'imlies) omnibus. Shakepere talks about somebody having been "fixed as great Atlas' self," but we must say for the Atlas omnibuses, that we never saw one of them "fixed" for any considerable time and if the Bard of Avon had said "fixed as great Royal Blue's self," he would have approached much nearer to our modern notions of a fixture. It is true that the public has its remedy—as well as its threepence—in its own hand,:and,it would do well to discourage the stagnant omnibuses by declining to ride in them. We can only say, that• If we saw an omnibus what wouldn't go, Do you think we'd enter it ? No, no, no, We'd take out a summons, and cry, " So, so, Your pulled up, Jarvey !" It seems that the officers of the Blues—that is to say, the conductors—are not remarkable for knowing how to conduct themselves, however expert they may be in conducing their vehicles. It is a pity there is no academy for a cad in want of a stock of good manners. It is true sve cannot expect much civility to be thrown into the bargain, when the fare is only threepence, but we had rather ride a shorter distance for our money than go further and fare worse at the hands, or rather at the tongue, of the conductor. —runfh. COLLISION ON THE RIVER.—GRAVESEND, A UG. 28.—About four o'clock yesterday afternoon, the tide being at the time nearly full, and it blowing a gale from the south-west, a collision tied: place in Northfleet Reach be tween a brig, laden with corn from the Baltic, and proceed ing up the river, and an empty collier running down. The damage done to the collier was such as to cause her to be at once run on shore on the Essex side, where, in a few minutes, she filled with wa'er, the tide being still flowing. The brig kept on her tack to this side, and was brought to anchor close to the shore between Rosherville-pier and Pit cher's dockyard, at Nortl,thet. The men were kept working at the pumps for several hou rs, w h en at low svattr her damage was partially repair e d s o as to ena b le her to be- kept free. The collier on the opp os i' e s h ore was got off at the next tide, when the damage done t her was also partially repaired ss as to enable her to be bro ug ht to t hi s side to U ndergo the necessary repairs. The cargo of the brig must be seriously damaged. We are inclined to believe that Major-General Sir John Grey, K.C.8., stands a very excellent chance of being selected for the important command of the troops in the Bombay Presidency, which appointment is likely to become vacant by the removal of Lieut.-General Sir William Gomm, K.C.B, to the situation of Commander-in-Chief of the Forces serving in the East Indies. Thirty- . ..?.even bottle-nose whales were captured in the Forth, a few miles above Alio, on Sunday last Dum fries Courier. THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE NAVY. TO THE FDITOU OF THE TIMES. Sir,—After the Tory Administration had made promotions in pace by wholesale beivra they quitted office, they left a legacy to their successors in the shape of the following minute : " Their Lord s hip s h av i ng ta k en i nto t h e i r considera tion the state of the half-pay list, and being desirous of operating its gradual reduction in time of ['race, "Reiolved—That from this date no proinoti.:n (except for special brilliant service)shall be made in any rank of commissioned officers (save flag-Lfficers), except in the proportion of one prosiotion fur every three vacancies which may be made by the removal by ch ash, dismissal,or ether causes, of officers from the effective li.ts of each rank kept at this office; death or court-martial vacancies liable to he filled up by Commanders-in-Chief abroad not being'reckoned." What, Sir, is the title meaning of this minute ? Simply that the vacancies of one in three are the sole patronage of the First Lord, and that if an officer distinguishes himself he must be promoted by the board. Practically we all knew, before this minute was issued, that the First Lord promoted wh m he pleased, though occasionally an officer, for long aid distinguished services, slipped in ; but this minute is an open avowal of the fact, and hen I mentioned it in the House I was answered by the senior naval Lord, "and little enough too." Now, Sir, I hold that the promotions in the navy are meant for the public good, and not fur the private and political friends of the First Lord. I am not simple enough to suppose that, in a Go vernment ours, interest will not be attended to; but that ought to be the exception, not the rule; and I shall here quote a passage from Alison, which is well worth the attention of the present as well as all other Governments : " The aristocracy have, in every period, been deeply implicated in the causes which unhappily E 0 often im pair the efficiency of our naval and military ettsblish meats. Incessant are the eff, its which all the holders of Parliamentary influence make during the tranquillity of peace to get their connexions and dependents elevated to situations which they are frequently it competent to fill. During the danger and excitement of war Govern meats are compelled by necessity to select the most worthy to discharge momentous and perilous duties, and are enabled by the magnitude of their patronage to do so without alienating their Parliamentary supporters. But under the limited establishments and with the com paratively unimportant duties of peace, this is impos sible. Reductions cn all sides then compel a rigid atten tion to influence in the disposal of situations, while the slumber of pacific life affords a prospect of the incapa• city of the persons promoted not being discovered, or not becoming productive of public disaster. During the latter years of a long peace influential imbecility is daily, in the army and navy, mounting men exclusively to the bead of affairs; and when hostiliti es b rea k ou t a large proportion of the officers in high command are generally found to be wholly unfit for the duties devolt ing on them. Thus while democratic clamour starves down the establishment to a ruinously low standard in point of amount, aristocratic cupidity parel)z , s the di rection and nullifies the exertions of that part which is allowed to exist. The disaster at the commencement of the war of 1739, during the first threa years of the war of 1756, during the whole of the American contest, during the first lair years of the Revolutionary contest, and in the dreadful campaign of Affghanistan in 1840, may all be traced to the combined operation of these causes." I shall now examine how the minute was attended to by the gentlemen to whom the legr.cy was left, and how far those who left that h gacy complied with it when they returned to office. On the 27th of February, 1830, the date of the minute, there were on the list of the navy, according to a return furnished to the House of Commons— captainn, 858 ; commanders, 918 ; lieutenant 4, 3,550. In the beginning of November, 1830, when they went out of office, there were— Removals. Promotions. Captains .... .... 64 Commanders •• a 40 _ _ Lieutenants .. 240 A flag promotion caused the removal of so many captains and commanders, and 176 lieutenants re tired with the rank of commander, but no additional pay ; so, in point of fact, there were only 64 lieute nants removed. To the end of 1834, when Sir Jas. Graham and Lord Auckland were at the head of the navy, there. were— - Removal. Promotions. Captains .... .... 92 Commanders .... 132 Lieutenants ... .... 421 What number were promoted by admirals abroad, and for special services, I have no means of ascer taining, but if the Admiralty abided by the minute, it must have been considerable. In the latter end of 1834 Llrd de Grey came into office. lie had hardly time to look about him when he was succeeded by Lord Auckland, and he again by Lord Minto. Time First Lords within a year! Napoleon said one bad general was better than two good ones. I may say with him, one bad Fiat Lord is better than three good ; but, the great Whig and Tory families who rule this country are of a different opinion. In 1835 there were Itemova!s. Promotions. Captains ... .. 25 ... 12 Commanders ... 42 17 Lieutenants .. 74 32 From 1836 until September, 1841, when the Tories returned to office, there were— Removals. C sptains ... 187 Commanders ... 262 Lieteenants . . 717 Promotions. 138 229 417 Tie promotions, it will h seen, very mu-.:h exceed one in three. Syria and China were the excuse for this; but, in war, no such promotions took place, even for general actions. According to a return furnished by the Khniralty, the promotions in war time were as follows : For the battle of the Ist of June, 33 lieutenants were made commanders. For the Battle of St. Vincent, 16 lieutenants were made cornraandem For Camperdown, 14 lieutenants to commanders. Nile, 1 commander to captain, 13 lieutenants to commanders. Traralgar, 5 commanders were made captains; 28 ieutenants, commanders; 27 midshipmen, lieu :enantA. St. Domingo, 1 commander, 7 linittmants, 8 mid. And at the peace promotion 68 commanders, 133 lieutenants, and 861 midshipmen were promoted. When the Tories came into office, i❑ 1841, they found on the Navy List—captains, 701 ; cDmman ders, 772; lieutenants, 2,718. They fuli,hed the year 1841 with a sweEping promotion, making 40 admirals, 53 captains, 93 commanders, and 123 lieutenants. Syria and China spin got the credit of this pro motion, though I do act believe a fourth part of those promoted were on either station ; and, if they had all been there, such a promotion vvaa quite un called for. When they went out of office they left on the list, —captains, 728 ; commanders, 853; lieutenants, 2,530; being an increase of 27 captains and 81 com manders, and a decrease of 188 lieutenants ; FO that the very men who made the minute in 1830, before they went out of office, paid no attention to it in the higher ranks when they came back. So much for ruling the navy by a political Admiralty. After agitating the qtrstion of a retired list until the session of 1846, the late Sir Robert Peel consented to grant a retired list to old captains. The first plan was fortunately given up, as there was no restriction to length of service, and a much better was propcsed, viz., to allow captains of GO years of age, and within 100 of the top of the list, to retire with the rank and pay of rear-admirals ; Lut the new board brought forward a plan of their own, not nearly so good, and allowed twn of 50 to retire on 11. a day and 18e., and to take their rank as admirals when those cf the same standing who remained on the active li.t beettne ad mirals ; and when the retired admirals are reduced to 25 they are to have an addition of pay as a reward for having given up 14s. 61 to receive 11. and 18F. No thing could have been so absurd ; there is now no encouragement for an old man near the top of the active list to retire. He must, I presume, come in at the bottom of the list of retired captains. The retired list was accompanied by a:promotion of 20 captains to admirals—quite unnecessary ; and the fllg-list was limited to 150; 53 captains were made retired admirals, to be reduced to 25 ; and 127 captains retired on 1/. and 18s. a day, agreeably to their standing, and they are to be reduced to 100. Had they even stopped here it would have been well, hut they made 48 captains, 85 commanders, and 20 lieutenants ; a promotion certainly not contemplated by Parliament when 30,000/. a-year was granted for a retired list. From 1847 to the end of 1848 there were.— Removals. Promotions. Captains ... 76 ••• 30 Cc mmanders . . 110 ..• 73 Lieutenants .. 285 112 In 1849 there were— Removals. Pr( motions. 12 Captains ... 2 0 ••• Commanders .. 36 ••• 33 Lieutenant* ... 107 .• 45 It will be seen that the Whigs have not attended to the minute, or rather, when they exceeded it, they ciAled it a special prornoticn ; but we all know how easy it is to get up special promotions. If am not misinformed, a special promotion was once got up for a secretary's son of no great service. I do not wish to be parsimonious of prornotior, fir _ _ for when well bestowed it is the main spring of action, but when ill bestowed it is the very reverse. To prevent abuse for the future, I should recommend one promotion for two removals ; that should cover every thing, and if the First Lord had any conscience at all, he would divide those promotions betwean men who really deserve them and his political friends—no one would complain of that ; but when promotion is badly given ) as it generally is, it causes great disgtigq in the service, and brings forward men who are little deserving of it. Sir Francis Baring has shown tolerable discretion in the first year of his administration, and only pro moted 12 captains against 20 removal-, 32 comman ders against 30 removals, and 45 lieutenants against 107. I wish I could say he bad been equally discreet in his appointments. When the minute was made there were, as I hive before stated, 858 captains, 918 commander!, and 3,550 lieutenants ; at the end of 1849 there remain 515 captains, 848 commanders, and 2,221 lieutenants, being a reduction in 20 years of 343 captains, 70 commanders, and 1,329 lieutenants; but if we deduct 200 who were withdrawn at an expense of 30,0001. from the ca p tains' list, there has only been a reduc tion ef 143. It is now proposed to keep up the captains to 500, which is quite absurd; they ought to be reduced to halt that number, and all the corn inanelers and lieutenants unfit for service should be placed on a retired list, end the promotion of one to two be confined to the removals from the active list. Officers would then have a chence of being em ployed, and of keeping up the knowledge of their profession, whereas, according to the present sys tem, it does not come to an officer's turn in much . Icsi than twcnty years i n th e upper ran k s; an d t hi s is our state when other nations are doing all they can to give execrie ace to their ufficcrs. In the French service c filet rs of a certain age are obliged to retire, and these fit for service are almost constantly employed. If this system is persevered in at the beginnieg f a war we shall find our officers without experience opposed to slicers who have been in constant practice ; and it is not difficult to foresee the result. In the navy estimates for 185051, the wages to seamen and marines were 1,322,9591.; the half-pay and pensions, civil and military, amount to 1,388,6371., being 65,678/, more than the wages of seamen and marines nth:, t, and this after a peace of thirty-five years ! I have had great diffvulty in obtaining the lists of promotions and removals, and I trust they are correct; if not, the Admiralty can very easily lay before the !louse a correct statement, and the country Is ill see how far they have complied with their own regulation. I remain your obedient servant, Murchistoun, Aug 25. CHARLES NAPIER. SIR CHARLES NAPIER. When we remember the general enthusiasm with which the appointment of Sir Charles Napier to the chief command in India was so recently welcomed, we may presume that the early and unsatisfactory conclusion of his career in the Esst will have caused in many minds a feeling of disappointment. It is un derstood that the Indian Government had no alterna tive but to accept his resignation. The refusal or neglect of the Commander-in-Chief to carry out an order of the Government, respecting the regulations of the army, was necessarily followed by a reprimand, which led to his immediate determination to lay down his office. It is greatly to be regretted that an im practicable habit of mind should so often tend to ren der Sir Charles Napier's high and brilliant qualities unavailable to the public service. His intemperate attacks upon some of the East India directors delayed ror some months, his appointment to the command ; and they would certaioly have prevented its being made at ail, if the alarm of the country at the unskil. fill conduct and balanced success of the Seikh war, had not induced the authorities of Leadenball-street to overrule 1111 personal considerations. It appears ih.►t a similar ebullition of temper has occasioned his premature withdrawal from office, and the interrup tion of the vig(zons changes in the conduct of the Indian army which he is understood to have been bent on accomplishing. . _ It is diiiicult to judge of the justice of the stile• tures which Sir Charles Napier has so freely bestowed on various portions of the army under his command. The India papers are generally warm partisans in matters relating to the civil and military services ; and the late Commander-in• Chief had, in his former rriocl service in leen:red more than an or dinary share cf hostility emong the conductors of the public journals. Oee of the ablest and most widely circulated newspapers in India no sooner received the announcement cf the promotion of the General who had, for years, been denounced in its columns—when conqueror and Governor of Sinde—than it promul gated a report that that appointment had been pur chesed by a bribe to one of our London contempora ries. With a minuteness which showed the accu racy cf its information, the paper to which we refer specified the exact sum which Sir Charles had paid for the insertion of an article which was supposed to have inspired the Government, and to have overruled the hesitation of the India House. 7,0001. was the exact amount which changed hands iu this nefarious transaction; and we only wonder at the moderation of the ILd'an journalist in abstaining from an account of the sums which must have_ been paid to the rest of the news paper pres, , , or employed in buying up the general voice of society. When w e fi n d, on similar authority, that Sir Charles Napier's judgments were harsh, and his corop'aints unfounded, we deem it prudent to heitate before we decide between the conflicting ati thorities. It, must be confessed that there are peculiarities in Sir Charlib's charccter which, in some degree, weaken the authority.of his opinions and statements. He has proved himself on the Indus a most able general, and in many a ficld in Europe and Asia a shilcul and fekrless soldier. He is also—the 7,0001. bribe nut withstanding—unmistakably honest and strsigbtforward. His love of discipline and his determination to do his duty are tho roughly genuine and unselfish; but, unfortunately, with a lull share cf the vigour and genius of his race, he has also the fatal facifiV of language which has to often led his eloquent relative, the historian, into exaggeration and bombast. Same of Sir Charles Napier's dispatches are models of point and vigorous cornpresion ; but his genius is habitually averse to the colourless language of business which best suits an official style. His minutes on courts-martial and geLeral orcers are too uniformly pithy and severe. A mgligent colonel or a dissipated subaltern is reproved with an epigrammatic indignation which might have proceeded from Tacitus or Juvenal. It is conse• quently difficult to judge of the standard by which he judges the state of the Indian army. If we look at the letter of his minutes, we might fear that it was li'tle better than a rabble, till we remember how Brent its character might appear if its chief, in addi tion to the qualities of a great commander, had not also possessed the genius of a vigorous and eloquent wrier. Nevertheless, after making all reasonable deduc tions, we cannot but fear that the dissatisfaction which Sir Charles Napier has so frequently manifested at the condition of his army is, to a considerable extent, well founded. It is not unknown that officers of experi ence have confidentially communicated to the home au• thorities their unfavourable judgment of the discipline of the Indian troops. The laxity of former Commanders ire Chief is said to have left too much ground for the irritation of the last holder of the office ; and there can be no doubt that, in the recent wars, the confi dence of the generals has, in too many cases, been re posed almost entirely in the European regiments. That the &Toys ' when well officered, are only se cond to English soldiers, is an opinion which is en tertained by those who know them best, and which Sir Charles Napier himself has often publicly ex pressed ; but it is certain that the competence of the officers is even more essential to the efficiency of such troops than in the case of an army like our own. An English infantry regiment would be a formidable impediment to an enemy if all its officers were sud denly removed from their posts ; but in the Indian army the whole machinery is set in motion by the Europeans who direct it, and it stops if they are un equal to their duties. The necessity cf mastering a foreign language, and of understanding Oriental habits and feelings, imposes a responsibility on those who command the Sepoys from mhich the officers of the Qiieen's army are exempt. It is by no means a matter of boasting that our army has less professional knowledge among its officers than any other in Eu rope. Abundant courage and the spirit of gentlemen form the ot dirusry qualiLations of our future generals, but, at last for the Indian army, more special fitness is required. Although Sir Charles Napier may have, in some instances, been unjust or excessive in censure, it can not be doubted that his vigorous resistance to laxity and indiscipline has had a useful effect in checking and preventing abuses. It is one of the most urgent duties of the Board of Control and of the India House to select a successor who will direct his attention to the subjects which employed his predecessor. The chief command of India is the most important mili tary appointment in the empire, and one of the most responsible which can be held by any soldier in the world. Such a rank is not a fitting retirement for a favoured veteran, or a subject for a family or official job. Aavar may prepare itself in India without our notice, as we found to our cost, in two instances, in the Punjaub ; and a weak or incompetent general, even if he does not incur losses as fearful as those of Affghanistar, may destroy the prestige of the Eng lish arms by blundering and indecisive contests. At present, als^, while there is a reasonable prospect of peace, a victorious gereral will have (-Dough to o in t to the are o r e fti fo o r e i r i s i i io g t t i h l e e zArmyLa tun of who the he are arms. s task, and it is to be hope d that neither interest nor h carelessness will be allow ed to interfere with the re con p!t Th ere er, cognition of their eleir.-Is.—Chronde. THE LATE ATTEMPT AT MURDER AT GATEHOUSE. —We learn that Pr. Mason, who was so severely wounded by his Ivife at Gatehouse, on the 17th inst., has been pro nounced convalescent. The unhappy woman is still of course confined in Kirkcudbright prison, and a remit Las been made to intdical men to inquire into the state of her mind. An equestrian statue of her Majesty is about to be erected in Glasgow, its onmemoratipia a the Royal visit 44 NO! n• T , THE SU 20, 180.