The Sun. — London, England, 1847-06-14 00:00:00

t e . ,;, Ice led nt ire That it is deei. eerie te have seine national testi raonial to commemorate the introduction of printing into England, and in honour of William Caxton, the earliest English printer." Mr, JOHN MURRAY, the eminent publisher, briefly Seconded the resolution. His Excellency Mr. BANCROFT was called upon to g P at 'Pose the se con d resolut i on, an d sa id t h at, as t h e d en i "ef t , of another c li me , w h o h a d traversed the At - ""t'a, the chi e f est or hi s fee li ngs were engage d f or t h os e t ° ,l7 l anes, which en s h r i ne d th e g l or i es an d montimented e great spirits of England, and strong as his feeiiegs would be for the old home of his forefeet). rs, and anx t°ui as he w ou ld b e tread the ground famed i n hi story r th e struggles which it had witnessed for liberty and re baa ll °wo, there w ere no p l aces w hi c h l a id so d ee p a h o ld inn his affections as the spots where the holiest feelings ru been excited, and where the best aspirations had It len uttered, and the chief of these was the Abbey as eattainster.—(Loud cheers.) But while stating these de manded he was aware th a t th ere w ere other claims which Z hi s notice ; but while he fully acknowledged Zose claims h e could not but attend, in the first instance, ,_the preci s e o bj ect of the resolution w hi ch b e h ee l to FPPuse, and that was, that the site chosen for the statue should be placed t owar d s t h e western f ron t or the Abet y. V i eat.) But in prop os in g the site of a statue to ' the memory of William C• xt ,n, could e he forget great cl a i ms w hi c h t h at em i nent in d ivi d ua l h a e 11 Port the grat i tude of the world? Caxton! NN hat had not !aton done? H e had made the Eng li sh l anguage t h e _e Ocal instrument of almost every heart, he had give, the man of Sc oleo the power of diffusing his over the world for the benefit of mankind—he had with depth, !babied all who touched the British lyre tir earnestness and genius, to find a home in the all- c f i e °NI who were capable of appreciating the 'beatiti ,auld the true. Already had the British tongue per ed every land —through the agency of the press it had , "anted every region of North America, from the 'est north to the extremest south—it had reached 1 4 . 3 Cordill eras and had passed the Rocky Mountains •n ever\ Press existnid"e in every town, and almost l ade a ge of the United States. Was there not thcn every Of thee of to lend a h e l p i ng h an d to p rom ote the object kit the m eeting.—(Cheers. It should be recollected , ute. ens koisti Americans had a part in all the its the e nS in all the lefty recollections of th tr ()rig People—froth them the Americans derived O rigin, to theta they traced their glory, and among Pie rested the bones of their ferefa Biers ; the British rl ee t: had no glories of olden date in which the Ae the. were not entitle) to participate, the places where tag i had achieved their fame were hallowed in the " a of the Americans by the deeds of his ancestors and ha le ; s sociation s of his early life. For all these reasons aih : .. :t that there was every inducement to adopt the site which he would propose in the following resolution be th ii‘t the proper site for any work of art would Of t h a t' West front of Westminster Abbey, at the eno -r,7 new Victoria-street." ,11,9 resolution having been second. d by the Rev. H. who briefly explained his own idea of the lats Of monument monument which ought to be adopted, and which lr. .7ea already fully staled to the public in The Sun, g t , e ,'• Buckingham and several other gentlemen sug axpaiaas that the resolution had better be framed so as to abb e the the neighbourhood instead of the front of the eze s i and the resolution having been framed so as to jet resoßiev: Jona Abe the Wish, it was unanimously adopted. HUNTER 4..r h ution then proposed the follow ' (thr ee h at ; a General Committee be requested to act ntitals a -e ' ll g a quo) um), with liberty to add to their r s, and that the following constitute a Sub-Com treed, to determine e nature, site, and details of the ot any work th of Charles Barry, Esq , R.A. " Etty, Esq., 11.:1.. Sir Ricea r d Westmacott, R.A. "The Dean of Westminster." discussion ensued, in which Mr. S. 11:ailli,thMi5 it lung r. Jerdan, t h e Ch a i rman a nd several other soletrleo participat e d, an d u l t i mate ly an amended re no me was adopt e d, the eff. ct of which wee that the a!Otate t i n , e , ll and gentle men name d constitute a general • fon a "ae, to promote the object, and to decide upon the 9tier _itna the character of the memorial, three to form a fai r 11 ,:' tn,..! and that Mr. C. Barry, R.A., Mr. Etty, R.A., the R. vvestmacott, R.A. the Rev. H. H. Millinan, and det aie ”'ll of Westminster, constitute a sub committee, to Tillestne the merits of any work of art. resolution was at length carried unanimously. ▪ repr e . 141:1 aar, a gentleman who stated himself to be h oe toseraetive of the press in the Unites , States, b gg,ed nam e „r g "Pose a resolutitin to the effect, that as the Peopl e, - b `Axton was not the sole possession of one of h at i " was the cowmen property of the whole family the i l f.ns, and especially as it was a household word in t w i n _tilted States, that measures should be taken to ob. „ ‘,F,titributions from that country. the Re fit Public subscriptions in aid be received; that Cot a 's H. Milman be the treasurer, and Mr. H. e th e sec „ secretary" kelt% resolution having been seconded, was carried by teehe gluon, and amidst the loudest expressions of good g• eh, R „ kept. Rev ti• H. Almult IN moved the thanks of the _ . See atid ewo the Noble Chairman, and the motion being Mis Loeb Mr- S. C. HALL, s ienced in h 's oba;salP returned thanks, and in the course et' ea tr rvations, after expressieg the pleasure which he presidine, said that 'his was not altogether se an r rea honour, for he'had. since the meeting had eons lisbir a d, received the present of a box, which he ex- Isas e ` k made out of the oak taken from the house which bieitee.axtoo's Printing -office. His Lordship also ex alt.• a U si a ti ll enam e l of the portrait of Caxton, done by T he me from an illurninatien in Lamoeth Palace. eting then broke up. AJESTY'S D e THEATRE. —Her Majesty the thee,, .!vager, uccompanh. pereitt ar .• d by their Royal Highnesses .Weiraar, and Grand Luke Duchess of Saxe his serene e slid Grand honoured the his Highness Prince Edward, on Satui day eeeti i at I ler Majesta 's heave, included the Countess°o wan hi r pr Royal suite the Brow slow, esence. The • rg, e Hon, M iss s the Countess, de Asset.- Beust, and the B aron ` )mo uEarl. Howe, the Count ss occupied by G eriera 'P"sar. The Queen's box , Wheatley, and the ' Sir Herr y WheiqeY, Con .e D on Monte the Misses WheaileY• Francisco attended by ;,leerPis also present, . the ' t o , L uy• Amongst the company were Louis 'tont apoteon, the Duke and Duchess of , b. ,the: the Duke of Beaufort, the Marquis of Aites trtY, the Marqui s of Huntley, Marquis of Clrricarde, th e Marquis and Marchioness of Ely and . , Ladies Anna and Caroline Loftus, Earl of of hsdale, Earl of Falmouth, Earl and Countess t hl Wilton, the Earl Granville. Viscountess (3 kingannon and Miss Irvine, Viscount, a i n d: t o l le, Lord Arthur Lennox, Lord Gerald Fitzgerald. 44'1 Otho Fit zeeralti, Lady Willoughby (11 , :resby, 1 .03 13 4 1. 1111 s Pitaarerce, Lady Begot, Lord Southetniaz. , r d Lady F Tommie, Sir Ralph and Lady fii Gardner, r€ Bar ar d , Lady Palmer, Lady Ede and Miss Wing .F . , ti, ihi i. n Nicola Admiral Count Heiden, Baron re the-elr' prince 3' T oubotskoi, the Marquis G. Visconti, k ; Hon. ta r, Lord Major, Lady Carrot and the as sea Carrol ; Sir iL William Massey Stanley; the H. n. , t e -k es Macduriald, the Hon. Captain Foley, Hon. R. Ik r th a r , de Berg, M. C. de Koudrieffsky, Sir George Cg Wel I, Bart., General Upton, Colonel T. I‘Jo. d, e a tcTo Meynell, R.N.; Captain Reynolds, Captain se a . '", , Captain Ryder Burton, Mr. Phillips, Mrs. "'Liss Grant, Mr. Broadley, Mr. 0. Morgan, Mr. )4 0 e tou Trel awney , M . P ., an d M rs. T re l awne y, M r . nekton Milne Mr. and Miss Hollord, Mr. Barr y alyM : • lacer -I k a . AL ITALIAN OFERA, C OYENT - GARDEN .—Her th i ii e etr and his H Highness Princ e Albert h on our. d b. theatr e w i t h t h e i r presence on Saturt lay evening. Her J, e3 t3' was attended by Visc ountess J oce l yn , B atoliess ]?„''‘'eth, Lady Caroline Cocks, Lord Cainoys, Lord A. bi get, and Colonel B eiverie. There were alai present Dll 0)11 Highness Prince George of Cambridge, his C elleucy the Hanoverian Minister, her Grace the ewager Duchess of Bedford, the Marquis of Douro, Dowager Couutess of Essex, Countess Pouiett, ~,,""Ulltess of Cardigan, Earl Bective, the Earl of Str,ali rre, the Earl of Orkney. Viscount Duppli n, Lord Lord A. St. Maur, LOld and Lady Russniore, • A. Lennox, Lady G. Codringeon, Lady Blanche S omerset, Lady W. Powlett, Honourable W. E. Fi z• Maurice, M.P., the Honourable A. Upton. Honourable 'l'. -Wort eseue , Lady Wilmot Horton and Hon. Miss Mun son. Colonel and the Hon. Mrs. Fitzgibbon, lion. Lady Willoughby, Hon. Sir Edward and. Lady Butler, H n. Miss N. Hill, Hon. C. Neville, Sir W. and Lady Moles worth. 3 Lad • Jodrell, Lady Augusta Baring. Lady arid Lady Littler, Sir Alexandt rand Lady Miss Macfarlane, B Pearman, Sir J. Clifton, Bart., Sir 'l'. Wi nn i ngs n, i Bart, M.P. : Sir R. Lynche 810.-se, Bart. ; Sir Henry • • ) bux, Bart ; General Sir Arthur Clifton, sir Henry .ebb, S ir M. Shaw Stewart, Sir Charles Ibiietson, Sir James gales Hogg, Bart. M P and 'Lady ; Mrs. Bates and a k l adame Vander Weyer. R. Sanderson and Hon. Mrs. 'Cuderson, H. Baring, Esq. M.P.; Charles Buller, Esq. ale.; Mrs. Dennistown, i a Morris, Esq. M.P.; Colonel -- ` k a„ 3 x ; Delafield, Esq.; A. Webster, Esq ; Mrs. Si.i•- bitian Smith, General Dixon, T. Miles, Esq. M.P. ; J. 4-aterson, Esq. M.P.; Mrs. Henry Bainbridge, Major .• , Mrs. Mountjoy Martin, Cornwall Legh, Esq., ."‘,,ra &c. dutiful Spring is gone ; the Summer is come I -a utiful as Spring is, and delicate anti poetical her ehildren—the snow-drop, the violet, the primrose, and Lila cowslip—w have seen and loved Ash once more, -. " b „ o d We will no e l onger regret them. As they came arid Passed away amid the lingering chills of winter, we wed-' Cooled them, and we mourned over their departue. No taaort like Spring makes us so sensible by its fleeting nanties o f the fleeting time; but Summer is the season o f full bl own enjoyment, and now let us enjoy it. The rat, Wise Monarch of Jerusalem exclaimed in review the these very things, " Come on, therefore, l et us en j oy igood things that are present, and let us speedily use :iethcreatures like us in youth. Let us fill ourselves the s e ? ri a tlY wine and ointments, and let no flower of with r -n g Pass by us. Let us crown ourselves rose s, buds before they be withered." That was Wisdom in Solomon's time, and it is wisdom now. It is * A V M to grasp the good that is before and mound us, _ not to waste time in lamenting what is gone, or may the72on be ; B°- ag. And June seems the season made for Universal rejoicing of all the creatures of existence. e x tle a country is arrayed in its fullest yet newest beauty. Th e trees are once more thick with leaves—leaves of the moat de licate freshness. It is, as Spenser says, wherever tg;ea atirri our eyes, " a leafle luxurie." The ground is , I :ed with deepest grass, and the birds and insects, 7•_ m Q flowered which are m ov i ng , s i ng i ng , an d blowing over *c:thole fate of nature, are countless. I.l..%?zirEamicE ON THE AFFAIRS OF PORTIITGAL..."'" tW es oaturday aft ernoon, at four o'clock, the repre , tnta- CourtQf France Spain, and P or t ua l at the British ee , assembled at the Foreign Office, Downing- street, 4 -4 .__held a conference with Lord Palmerston, the Sea D e ,.:;_ r Y_ Of State f or Foreign Affairs, on the affairs of faZ i fti• The oonferenee bruke up soon after five -.%••••Obiserver. LITERATURE. RAA ORPE. One roL The motto on the title-page—a line from Ba!zee, " I had commenced an insensate struggle ; I com batted misery with my pen,"—sufficiently indicates the purport of this volume. It is the history of an author. A fertile theme for the pen of the romanci't, and one of which he not unfrequently avails himself. In this instance, however, it is not only as a ro mancist, but also as a moralist, that the writer of this fiction has selected a literary hero; the adventures of Percy Ranthorpe serve, not only to " adorn a tale," but also, and very effectually, to " point a moral " and convey a useful lesson. Man of genius though he was, to a certain extent, at least, the hero—this Percy Ranthorpe—is no all -perfect ideal ; neither does he possess all the attractive attributes generally assn ciated with the poetic character. He is represented rather as a very natural personification of a class, of which, doubtless, many members are DOW existing:— " A creature, not too bright or good, For human nature's daily food;" endowed with considerable talent and even genius, and also possessing no little ambition and no little self-conceit. In the narrative of his arduous career up that terrible acclivity—the bill of fame—is very vividly pourtrayed, most of the various phases of an author's early life, and the dangers and difficulties that crowd his way. In the preface we are told that " Ranthorpe" was written five years ago, and The author has employed the interval in following Boileau's advice, " Vinyl fois sur le inct er, remltez l'ouvrage," and " Polisse: souvent et souvent effiicez," so well that his composition has doubtless consider ably improved in style, and considerably diminished in quantity. Originally intended to fill the pre scribed three volumes, "Ranthorpe" is now con densed into some three hundred and fifty pages, yet is nevertheless likely to afford as much interest and amusement as many of its competitors of greater weight. The writer himself admit , that such e great change in the structure of his work has occa sioned many faults in the arrangement of the details, which to a certain extent must have been unavoid able. The most conspicuous evidence of the con densation of the narrative is the variety of person ages and incidents, with which it is crowded, but to the general reader, this feature will he rather an attraction. To the general reader we can cordially recommend it, it is full of animation and activity, the interest never flags. The variety of scene and character is almost boundless ; for ex ample, we are introduced to the poet first in his hard-workin? obscurity ; then we follow him as the " lion into the boudoirs of fashion ; we see him forget the humble tone of his early life to fall at the feet of some heartless coquette, and then, after finding him repulsed with scorn, we follow the frrtunes of the lady through her eventful and instructive career. It is useless, however, to attempt to give even a summary of the variety of adventure: detailed here. But "Ranthorpe" has a higher attrac tion than the power of affording mere amusement—it is interspersed with many beautiful thoughts, and many reflections pregnant with moral truth. A useful lesson, too, as we have said before, is conveyed in the history of its hero. Even at the risk of diminishing our approbation and regard for the young poet, his biographer has been careful to expose to us his faults — faults rather incidental to his position than to his character. The titles of the three first " hooks" into which the history is divided, sufficiently indicate the moral which it conveys— " The Poet's first struggles," " The Lion," " The unsuccessful Au thor." The publication of his first book of poems— " The Dreams of Youth"—obtains for the young author no inconsiderable celebrity—he is wel comed in those circles where every novelty is received with avidity —he literally descends from the garret to the drawing-room, from the poet he sinks into the lion. In this incident of his career is very naturally pourtrayed one of the casualties so often fatal to successful genius. Escaping from the jaws of despair, he is carried amid the vortex of dissipation—the Scylla and Charybdis which gua r d the p ath of tame. In pourtraying this period of his hero's life, the authsor introduces a chapter on " the aristocracy of intellect," which is well worthy of attention. He premises that there are two aristocracies, one of birth and one of in telligence. To the former he allows much, too much indeed ; for instance, he observes, " the aristocracy of birth is not the figment certain democrats proclaim. A thorough bred hunter is not a hack." To this comparison we most certainly object ; true we agree with our author, that between the " two nations" there may exist as great a difference in beauty of person and refinement of mariner as there does be tween the two quadrupeds he has mentioned; but surely the cause is a very different one, and is attri butable not to birth, but education. The following remarks upon the anxiety which individuals of each aristocracy evince to receive members of the other are full of truth : " Whatever future changes may produce, there are at the present day two potent eristecraeies, both swarin'tig with nreciimptuous parvenus, despicable and d• spiced: p orvenus (let it never he forgotten) of intelligence as well as os s taliee ; men who aspire to qualities they have no claim to: eunuchs of ambition! " S-ciety is brimful of absurdities, which no ridicule will rewither ; and of this kind is the absurdity of th, members of one aristocracv cons, nting to become parvenus in the other: authors degrading thoinselves into parvenus of station, and lords descending into parvenus of intelli - gence—this indeed is a misconception sometimes fated; always ludicrous. Lords consent to be lords; and, before attempting to be authors, rigidly scrutinise your claims and title- deeds! Yon are proud of your own blazonry, and ridicule the pretensions of the parvenu ; but you become equally ridiculous when aiming after the blazonry of mental aristocracy—the titles of books; unless, indeed, you have the gift of genius to secure your position. " Authors consent to be authors ; and before attempt ing to ' move in the first circles,'. unless your position call you there, rigidly scrutinise what it is you want what is your aim, and whether this society and its demands be comptible with the mission or your lives. Do not degrade yourselves by abdication of a rightful throne for a baffled attempt at usurpation of a foreign one. " Either there is dignity in intellectual rank, or there is not: if there is, no other rank is needed; it' there is not, Ito other 'sink can give it ; for dignity is not en accident, but a quality." The chapter following Ranthorpe's precipitate retreat from the theatre, after the failure of his tragedy, vividly pourtrays what many must have felt. It is• called " Aipiration and Inspiration," and points out the terrible difference which exists between them. With an extract from the suggestive remarks, we must take leave of " Ranthorpe,' in the hope, how ever, of ere long again meeting with its author. " There have been few men of gernus, I fancy, who have not had their moments of despondency. Exaltt d by the contonplation of Beauty, and the hat - m.4ll(ms witcherius of Proportion, Vol have Ittok , d upon their own efforts with disgust ; aspiring after perfection they have doulyed their capacity to attain it, and questioned themselves narroAly as to whetht r they have not mis taken th,- aspiration, common to so many, for the in spiration given to so few. The very superiority of mind which enables them to conceive p.rfection, only tb. more readily detects the distance which separates their works from it. '• In these moments of despondency, when with bitter iro , iy a man iiiterrogat-s himself and says —Am I what I thought myselt ? and r ece i ves on l y d, irk,vague answers—th , n, should f a il ure come as conf irmatiorthe thought of suicide arises, and is eagerly clutch, d at by despair. To such despondency a f ew noble sprits have succumbed: spirits woo had endued the goadi ng evils of poverty, envy, and neglect—endured them to a frightful extent, but never suffered them to quell their giant energies. .‘ They wrong us who believe we quail before the ordinary ills of hie! We have more than a common coil , age to endure; the history of our heroic predecessors amply shows it. Our lives are chequered ; but because our path is on the stony highway., where thorns and flints pierce our bleeding feet, have we turned aside? Have we ceased the combat when wounded? No; if the path be stony, are there n..t flowers growing on the hedge? If the path be (Ink before us, have we not an inner lamp to guide us safely onwards? Ay, a lamp whose smallest glimmer irradiates the world with beauty ! By its light we Balk, and walk cheerily; by its rays we are warmed and gladdened in the depth of winter nights, when perhaps the last dying embers flicker on our deso. late heaths. We may be poor, but we are never abject; we may be neglected, but we are not unhappy until we neglect ourselves! It is only when this inner lamp is quenched, or when we look on it as some false will-o'- wisp, that all the glory of our mission fades away ; and then what wonder if we arrest our steps and die blas pheming? Ans , ser, Chatterton! Gilbert! Haydon I To have passed a life of cherished hopes and visionary efforts, and to find at last that they were based on air! To have forsaken all this bounteous world affords, to teed the hungriest vanity, or greediest sense, and to find that you have been a dupe, a miserable dupe! To hear the ceaseless roll of waters as they break upon the shore, and know how great the busy joyous world they s:.eak of; yet to feel like some poor stranded barque that had tempted the rough waves in youthful confidence, and now lies broken and deserted on them! To feel that everywhere around you men are happy, busy, and you alone wi, bout an aim—you alone purposeless, hopeless, joyless —you alone wasted! And in this despondency to reed the delicious reveries and bounding hopes which once were your.,; to renal the lonely walks, on summer eves, along sequestered streams, where your busy fancy struck out many a gilded pageant of the future; to recal your mid tight studies, when with burning head and fulling eyes you peered into the secrets of the great Departed ; and then to look upon your present state, aitniess and joyless! To awaken from the dream of life to find that inner lamp was false, a mockery of your hopes! This is misery —this is despair mighty enough to quell the stout, st heart! " - And this clespl]irsilzed Percy Ranthorpe, and he vsolved to die!" FINANCIAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By Thomas Doubleday. A peculiar interest attaches itself to this remark able work at the present moment, seeing that every endeavour is now being made for the reparation of a protracted injustice. The national mind, we do firmly believe, is ripe fora comprehensive reorga nisation of that most injurious system of taxa -1 tiun which has for so long a period tended to paralyse the industry of the population. Mr. Doubleday has described the atrocious origin and the malign influences of the national debt of England in his financial history of the country, and he has described them with such admirable perspicuity as to their gradual development, and with such wither ing sarcasm as to their producers, as to afford him, in our opinion, a right to the title of a patriotic phi lanthropist. It is a curious circumstance to re flect upon the monetary and social condition of our Anglo-Norman ancestors under the sovereignty of the Plantagenet, when the revenues of the monarch and the state were derived in a particular manner from his territorial possessions—when the royal beeves and the royal harvests were carried to his shambles and his granaries from his own pasture and arable land, and were not wrung from the pittances of the wretched artizans, earned by the •de nial of their domestic comfort and the perpe tual sweating of their brows. Until the aristo eratic ambition, and the feudatorial avarice had beaten down the buttresses and desolated the orchards of the religious establishments ; until the lords of the soil had g!utt( d their coffers with the most unprin cipled and profligate spoliation, and had by the con tngion of their exqmple rendered their lord para mount, the King, the participator in their corrupt and execrable proceedings, the miseries of a poor law were unexperierced, arid the labour of the land untaxed. Those are the circumstances which do, in a very great measure, render the olden times, in corn pad-on with ours, the golden days; those, at least, are the antique customs which we would willingly see revived by the disciples of Young England; those are the immunities which must, in a very great measure, have compensated our forefathers for the scientific advantages reserved for a future generation. While, indeed, we have been blessed with the art of printing, we have been cursed with the woes of taxation ; while our activity has been promoted by a magic-dragon of steam, our strength has been undermined by the horrors of the nightmare of the National Debt. The creation and growth of these monster evils are well and compre hensively described by Mr. Doubleday. From the first dawning of the debt until its accumulation in 1711 to a principal of 16,394,7021. ls. 7d., in 1739 to a principal of 46,954,6231. 3s. 4d., in 1748 to a principal of 78.293 3131. is. in 1775 to a principal of 135,943,0511., in 1783 to a principal of 257,213,0431., in 1797 to a principal of 413,140,832/., until its extension in these latter times, after the wars against France—wars forced upon us by the pertinacious egotism of Pitt—to a terrific total of 800,000,0001. How such miseries have been entailed upon the industrious population of these islands is readily to be comprehended, when we recal to our recollection the expenses of a protracted war, the odious subsidising system of William Pitt, and the monetary suction of the nobility. Mr. Doubleday has, in his present compo sition, becc:me in a very great measure the impartial historian of English Finance • at the same time it must be acknowledged that his style is throughout impassioned, but this earnestness arises from the ard.ur of his patriotism. In writing these brief ob.ervations we are in no manner disposed to dismiss a volume so remarkable and valuable with a few cursory remarks. We are only solicitous to direct the attention of the public, as speedily as possible, to a very extra ordinary and perspicuous work, recounting the in justice and incompetence of bygone statesmen. As we shill repeatedly hbve occasion to refer to the ar guments of Mr Doubleday, either for the purpose of coinciding with them, or refuting them, we shall abstain from entering upon their general analysis. HOME AND 17 S INFLUENCE. A Novel. By Me Hon. Adela Sidney. 3 Vols. The title of these volumes is a recommendation in itself, and when we have said that, the tales which they contain effectively carry out the moral which that title seems to convey, further commendation is almost needless. It would be well if a larger portion of fictitious literature were devoted to a similar pur pose, and insoired by as amiable motives, as are these volumes by Miss Sidney. However much it may be customary to regard novel-reading either as a sad waste of time, or, at best, only as a means of making a few hours pass pleasantly, we are inclined to think that works of this class, not individually, perhaps, but collectively, exercise a not unimportant, and might exercise a most beneficial, influence upon the morals and the disposition of the community. Historical or political romances are, doubtless, useful in their way, as tending to impress certain facts more indelibly in the memory, by means of familiar association and kindly sympathies ; but their influence is immeasur ably less powerful than that exercised by the un pretending domestic novel. Always supposing such a novel qualified to execute effectually its important mission, namely, teaching by example. To do this it is necessary not only that some good lesson should be irculeated by the moral of the tale, but also more es pecially to render the example available, it is im perative that the characters and conduct of its heroes and heroines should be truthfully and naturally pour trayed ; and then, according as they are good or evil, they may serve as an incentive and a warning. His torical romancist though he was, such lessons abound in the pages of Sir Walter Scott. We may ponder with admiration, reverence, delight, or a thousand kindred emotions, over his narratives, of the gallant doings of the old crusaders, or the varied fortunes of modern monarchs, from the doughty Richard to the callous Mary, or pedantic James; but we turn with a sympathy ever glowing, and an interest ever new, •to study the histories of his humbler characters—fic titious they are called, but we know them to be realities—and from those histories how many lessons may we not learn 1 For instance, a hundred elabo rate orations, a hundred eloquent panegyrics, upon the various excellences and beauties of those two most necessary anti not incompatible virtues, resolution and humility, must inevitably fail in producing a hun dredth part of the effect which would the perusal of, perhaps, the most beautiful of all Scott's beautiful tales —the " Bride of Lammermoor " There, in the odious character of the imperious Lady Ashton, and the pitiful weakness of the gentle and yielding Lucy, its tair readers more especially, may see the fatal effects of two opposite extremes and become more anxious to discover that happy juste milieu which avoids them both—excluding alike wilfulness and weakness. Innumerable such lessons of this kind may be found in the pages of the great novelist; and, notwithstand ing their manifold attractions, it is for such lessons that they are chiefly valuable. And such or similar lessons we are always glad to find in the works of our modern novelists, and it is because they aspire to fellow in the same course that we gladly welcome Miss Sidney's otherwise unpretending tales. To extol the happiness, and illustrate the beneficial in fluences of domestic life, is a peculiarly appropriate subject for a work which, like this, is chiefly designed for the younger and fairer members of the community. The early studies of kings are chiefly directed towards obtaining a knowledge of the countries over which they are to rule, and in gathering from the records of other sovereigns lessons tend rien f ndli ,kit x nre p a e , am e ni n iero c , e efwrtakyls f el o itf r ootui tici t ud l ur i eaeil thesri fye n f ete u ha future mf r guidance;tehsfteouirrdiste the sovereignty— the gi and gwhnt:aledn the little empire of home. These three volumes con tain three tales—pleasing tales , pleasingly written— " Beatrix," "Di na h," an d " Clemence. Of these the last is by far the most interesting, and is an exquisite romance.ise liable t o f t the eo heroine,som o objections , c her heroic and I the conduct u self sacrifice, is c e e,i,) r r h hi a ef p r oh s -ee n rdr o oo t s verypu rify nm s wise, oa i mu s tn e ray , okyn e inn v lb e dit. if natural • but then we must remember "he never errs who sa crifices The leseoootrei s imcni atonecobaenoaril occasioned ehoni dt o ends f i ea) hied' recreation,st` fles I D lrt, k i in n enafil a leyfu h ,te ' tutb ' vthoil uecte i ater : perhaps likely to be of most finding, on, terrible lrtds dhialso forcibly ne, g domineering consequences p o ur t heu r t o nr y rimdm s l tapee i wisom n i sryhtpa t iareon h enrhd e .t. lessons. The object of the whole is to prove, in the concluding words of one of the tales, "that happiness is of a quiet nature—that all the 7h c a h itp a hpi tn nth s ees o sn f i pleasure— the excitement of fame—bear thorns ; but that existence is concealednl only when virtue and love shed their lustre over an united and intellectual home." THE NATURAL; uF THE BALLET GIRL. By Albert Smith. The cloak of Buffon has been a very long while falling, and A lbert Smith h as caug h t i t without any doubt : It sits admirably on his shoulders—may he wear it just so long as it shall not become threadbare! After flaying the execrable, and detestable, and most atrocious, and most abominable race of "Gents" alive, after punishing the whole genus of "Gents" with a sort of literary "tar-and-feathering," Albert Smith changes his theme from the grubs, as he very expressively terms the "Gents," to the butterflies, as he no less expressively terms the " Ballet Girls." But his labour in this second chapter of his facetious " Natural History," is not the labour of destruction. or scarification, or ridicule, or s dire. To the honour and good taste of the author, be it said, the poor "Ballet Girls" may here find their palliation, if not even their panegyric. On this account the little book before us, anent the danseuses, is right welcome ; it is a blithe, sparkling humourous sketch behind the cenes, and it is a very great deal more—it is the enunciation of a kind word, and the expression of a generous and honourable sympathy for an abused, and we do believe, a wrongfullly slighted class. W e cannot afford a better notion of the gentleness of sen timent which imparts such a pleasant flavour to the out-pourings of the presen t brochure, tha n b y g i ving the following defence of tne moral characters of the members of the corps de ballet. " The Ballet-girl is very fond of finery. j a a po,i. tion where so much depends upon effect, this passion is, , in some degree, excusable ; and for Loin reason effect is the great end desired. She believes in the jewellery of the Lowther Arcade to a great degree ; that emporium ' stands. higher with her than ever did the firm of Storr and Mortimer with it s warmes t and most wealthy pa trons. And herei n lies her greatest danger. The hand some presents man e t o some o f these girls—who work so very hard at so very sma ll a sa l a ry—might well turn their heads ; as might the offers of a splendid settle ment or estalishment, contrasted with their, in most cases, very humbl e h omes . "But they have all got mothers, who are the ladies patronesses of strange bonnets and abnormal dresses. The more rigid ones come to the theatre every night to fetch their daughters home, and are allowed by the stage-door- keeper to stand inside his lodge, and near the fire in winter. And in no manner will they permit any one else to see their young ladies home, unless he pays them very great attention, or is their proper accepted admirer. And even then he must, to find great favour in the eyes of the mother, be somehow or other con• netted with the profession. "And indeed the of of the CoryphCe in marriage is not altogether to be taken out of the theatre—gene rally the reverse. A very large proportion of the young persons now enumerated in the corps de .ballet of the various houses as Miss' Such-a-one, are married. And, married or single, we speak advisedly in saying that nothing can be more exemplary than the conduct of the ballet generally, taken as a mass. Many of them—in several instances two or three : inters—contribute in a treat degree to the support of their family, either by their salaries (which may be averaged at a guinea a week in the more respectable theatre-), or by teaching dancing on their own account. An intimate acquaint ance with the internal economy of a theatre, and the fortunes of those assisting to form its company, enables us to state earnestly that amongst no other class have we witnessed more domestic devotion, or readiness at 411 times to proffer mutual assistance, in the event of accident or other misfortune, than in the corps de ballet;and that in cont ra di ct i on to the notions of the Gents, by no others have we seen any transgression against propriety, or advances even supposed to be questionable, more eff . ectually repulsed. We do not deny that there are several who cannot lay claim to a reputation en tirely unblemished ; but is as false as it is uncharitable to suppose that the attributes of those few are alike characteristic of the entire class." The descriptions of the domestic and artificial (that is stage) life of the " Ballet Girl," is as lively as it is doubtless faithful, from the enthusiasm with which she listens to the bang-bang of the tambourine in the hands of the ballet master, to the delight with which she and you hearken to the "glow-glow' of the cham pagne, when poured out in those long and distract ingly narrow glasses at the White bait-house down at Blackwell. In the masterly picture of Van Am burgh, in the den of the great lion, by Edwin Land seer—in this year's exhibition of the Royal academy—may be discerned first at the foreground, on the ledge, as it were, outside the bars of the iron cage—a piece of orange peal—a torn play bill—a scrap of laurel—and a bunch of flowers; Those little adjuncts are inimitably introduced, suggesting by symbols, as they do, the atmosphere in which Van Amburgh and his tame wild beasts are visible. Hem ming might have taken a hint from Landseer, and thrown a bit of orange peal, a torn play bill, a scrap of laurel, and a bouquet, into the wood-cut on the title page, for they equally represent the atmosphere breathed by the Ballet Girl, and betoken the precise character of this agreeable volume. A PRACTICAL TREATISE 01V THE TEETH AID GUMS. By 14 illiam Mr. Wardroper in his intelligent and remarkable little treatise upon the structure and diseases of the teeth and gums, has stricken a severe blow at what he calls on his title page " the pernicious practise of indiscriminate tooth- drawing. The purpose of the arguments employed in this publication will conse quently be must welcome to the multitude who are liable to the excruciating torments of this dental disease. Mr. Wardrope attacks all the old systems hitherto practised by surgeon-dentists ; he attacks them boldly, but, at the same time, he attacks them with extraordinary skill, and with much apparent jus tice. His reasoning is not based upon some crochet born in his own imagination—it is founded upon the anatomical principles established by the great and il lustrious John Hunter. It will be useless, therefore, for any one to deride the propositions of the author as those of a charlatanic innovator. .A single sen tence extracted from the preface will show the origi nality, the keenness, and the common-sense that may be expected in the treatise. " The only remedy," says the writer " in nine cases out of ten for the toothache, especially when the tooth has been affected with caries, has been extirpation, and that, too, recom mended by all the leading men in the profession, as the only efficacious alternative. This, when seriously reflected on. appears to be almost as ludicrous as that a man should stiffer amputation of the head as a cure for the headache." We recommend the pamphlet to the notice of all sufferers, and, generally, to the conside ration of all practitioners. FINE ARTS. EXHIBITION OF PAINTINGS AT THE BRI- TESTI INSTITUTION. On Saturday afternoon we were much gratified with the collection of pictures by Italian, Spanish, Flemish, Dutch, French, and English masters, tem porarily suspended on the walls of this excellent in stitution by their munifi cen t proprietors.. Every body knows that a " p r i va t e v iew" implies a more Vi numerous assembly o f spec t a t o rs than is , sible on what is characterised, by way of distinction, as a " pub lic view." We were prepared to find a tolerable at tendance of visit ors , b ut we were at once gratified and disappointed at the number of distinguished per sons by whom we h a d b een prece d e d. Our gratifica don arose from the evidence thereby given of the appreciation of the master. pieces of true art, and of the visible denial that English sight-seers are only t.) be tempted by novelty—no matter how vulgar . and contemplible that novelty may be. Our disappom . t ment, on the contrary, originated in a more selfish feeling, inasmuch as - the throng prevented our ob taining that un em b arrassed v i ew o f th e paintings which is so essential to their due estimation. After the pictorial creati on o f t h e art i s t ha s left . his atelier —rip e w i t h gen i us and b loom i ng with Inge:_ nuity—the most important requisite foi'the mani festation of it s b eauty, i s, unque iti ona bl y , th e point from w hi c h i t is regar d e d . Wi t h one or two fort una t e except i ons we were b a ffl e d in our endeavours to regard the pictures, now hanging upon the walls of the Institution, in a proper light—and this, from the number and curiosity of those who, like ourselves, were engaged in the pleasant task of inspection. What little, however, we were enabled to distinguish has satisfied us that the present col lection is scarcely to be surpa-sed in variety or value by any one of its predecessors. Some of the most valuable among the private galleries of England have given up tor a time their treasures for the decoration 44 the apartments of the British Institution. Among the l.roprietors of these paintings, indeed, may be enumerated her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen, the Marquis of Bute, the Duke of Welington, Sir Robert Peel, Lord Northwick, Sir W. W. Wynn, the Earl of Ellesmere, the Right Hon. H. Labou• there, the Royal Academy, &c. &c. Among the most striking specimens of the Italian masters is a Guido (No. 13), being a representation of " St. Peter," of marvellous inspiration, and of that bold yet delicate colouring which is the chief characteristic of that immortal maestro a , " David " (14), of Guercino—a little jewel of Claude (16), " The L a nding of St. Paul," though somewhat faint and decayed in tone : a portrait of Ignatius Loyola, by Titia n , with a haunting, pensive, meditative, jesuitical countenance, such as arrests attention and fastens indelibly upon the memory. One small picture o f an un pretending character (68), a mere group of cattle standing in the foreground in a piece of water among sedges and rushes, and backed by a dingy waste of clouds, is a wonderful represen tation of nature, but to say that it is a Cuvp is to say that it is wonderful. Among th e mos t ce l e b ra t e d paintings in the collection are the "Ratcatchers," by Wilkie ; the portrait of "Hunter," the anatomist, by of w M ith r. the portraits of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the portrait of "Lady the Duke of d lio ; lt f o r n om ," Peel," by Sir Thomas Lawrence. An original John Murray, is one c.f the mostextra illoe.norliesat master. "The beingwHao r g d a s rt ,t h ,:e ( iD l le 4 u 9 cß ) h , eeg.sgs the a orproperty Opera,. Bolton; Walker, the original Macheath ; Miss Fenton, after wards vone.tihai.tsagtoufegtz, & W e a . ,t, Water-Seller," l e e r s , t , a , hirsute . water-seller himself to the boy who is . going to drink, and from the glass of limpid water itself to . the . stone pitcher, with the o th rd e ina o r ld y pi r e a c g es ge b d y , drops trickling . down its. sides—the painting is a brilliant transcript of reality. Dance's " Garrick as Richard the Third (131) ;" the " Orpheus," of the same artist (152) ; the " Lady an d B oy with Fruit, " by Rubens (91), a picture of delicious beauty for colouring ; and a large landscape (22) with figures and cattle, by Cuyp, are amongst the most conspi cuous in dimension, and the la s t ment i oned in merit also, in the Exhibition. The cool green s cenery o f llobbima; the rich and glowing tones of Sir Peter Paul; the quaint odd naturalness of Teniers, espe cially in the " Robbers plund er i ng a F arm -house, " (73) ; and most of all, in the Clown who is just going to be pinked to the heart's content by one of the pilla gers; the gleaming and efful gen t sun snatches of Claude; the animation of Wouverman, as in the " Battle-piece," (20) where the centre-figure of the wounded horse evidences the " power" of the master in a significant manner; and the f orce and vigour of Rembrandt contrast in a wond e rf u l way upon the walls of the Exhibition .rooms of the Institution. The collection is moo volneil , - , and most interesting. ==sisamossa=, Mr. Henry Meesitn 114 s opened very commodious and elegant rooms at George street, Hanover-square, for the exhibition of works of art, where he has recently favoured us with a private view of three very interest i•.g paintings. The first is a- large gallery picture by Sir G. Hayter, " The Christening of the P r i nce o f w e l es .7 , This is in the glint , s beet style, and for the' truthfulness of delineation the portraits are unrivalled ; we were particularly struck with the fine likeness of her Majesty, who forms the centre of a group—the youthful and queenly matron, surrounded by the nobi lity and clergy of the British Isles. The architectural part of the picture, comprising the interior of St. George's Chapel at Windsor, is finely drawn, and as a whole, it bears an historic character, the value of which time will materially increase. Th-re is a great contrast between this gorgeous dis play of purple and gold, and the touching expression of the " Dawn of Love," the name given to an exquisite morceavx by the young, but highly talented artist, Mr. Thomas Brooks. Nothing can exceed the air of chastened, yet delighted, consciousness which the face of the sweet girl in the foregroand discloses; while he, who looks to find "Responsive glances in her smiling eyes," `is equally interesting; th..re is un archness, and yet a. dt pill of feeling, in those same eyes which is equally an excuse and an incentive to his intense and absorbing admiration. This is one of those meritorious and suc cessful etfors that exalt the scenes of humble lite to a more h.illowed and poetic region than the finest clas,ie can ever occupy in ibis coun•ry. The landscape, too, is in excellent keeping with the figures of the youthful . lovers, the distant hills fade gently a wa y i n t o t h e c l ear blue sky, while the foreground discloses one of these quiet nooks "Where innocence, alone with love, May dream of years of blissand calm repose." The very dog, crouched at his master's feet, seems to wait fir the denouement, as if spill bound by the " Blessed stillne-s of that witching hour." Mr. Meeson has an eXc.4lent engraving of this charm ing picture, executed in the very spirit of the oriAinal b - Mr. W. H. Simmons, and we msy sat-1y predict an ex tensive popularity fbr this beautiful pastoral. • We have space for hut a brief notice of " Goodall's Soldier's Dream," the very beau ideal of Campbell's affecting ballad of that name. The figure of the weary soldier is conceived in the highest style of art, and the romance of breathing love, "Suspended in mid air," tells a story that will be responded to by every heart acquainted with Scottish country life. How truthful are the lines the poet has put into the mouth of the tired warrior as he rests on his hard couch in the bivouac— " I flew to the pleasant fields, traversed so oft, In life's morning march, when my bosom was young ; I beard my own mountain goats bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the corn reapers sung." Ah ! there are many in this hard-working world who, like the poor soldier, dream of such things with delight— " These visions of our early days—too bright and pure to last." The handling in this picture is very superior ; the aerial character of the vision, drawn by mimic fancy, in the poem is pourtrayed by the painter with such power that you are at once presented with the reality of home and all its endearments. We consider the •• Hanover Gal leries" will prove an advantageous mart for artists and connoisseurs ; and we congratulate Mr. Meeson on the eclat with which his rooms will be thrown open to the public. STATE OF TRADE. FOREIGN WOOL MARKET. JUNE 11.— AF usual at this season of the year, immediately preceding the arrival of tlie'new clip, the business transacted in this market is on a c9mparatively small scale. The accounts received from Breslau leave little room tor doubt that a considerable advance upon last year's prices will rul.• at all the Ger- man lairs, and we may report, as a natural consequence, a somewhat improved tone in the rates current in this market. ENGLISH WOOL MARKET, LEEDS, JUNE 11.—There is not any variation in this market to report during the present week—either as to extent of sales or quotations of prices. WAKEFIELD WOOL MARKET, JUNE 10.—The busi• nest or this week - has been much of the same character as it has been of late, with slow sales, by a gradual re duction in prices. As the new clip his not yet come freely to market our stocks are but light, and un some sort of hogs prices are pretty well supporte d but if there be no increased demand for the manufactured ar ticle before our stocks accumulate we must expect lower prices. DONCASTER WOOL MARKET.—The markets for the sale of wuol commences this day, and will be continued every Saturday until the 6th of August. Two addi tional markets will take place, viz., on the first Satur day in September and the first Saturday in October. It should be borne in mind, that the town-council have reduced the weighing toll to the amount of one half. penny per stone. This includes all charges with respect to weighing, as well us of porterage to and from the scales,—an arrangement which cannot fail to meet the approbation of both seller and purchaser; evincing, at the same time, the desire of the council to afford every accommodation and facility, and promote the popularity and usefulze.Fs of the markets. YORK WOOL MARKET, JUNE 10.—There has been a heavy market, and only a few buyers in attendance, but most of the wool shown was sold. Good hog retilizAl 13s. 6d., hog and ewe I Is. to 135., lucks and cast Bs. to 10s. per stone of 14Ibs. TRADE OF LEEDS.—We have had ♦ery dull markets at our Cloth Halls, both on Saturday and Tuesday. This is principally ascribed to the present uncertain state of the corn markets. There is scarcely anything doing on speculation, and the purchases to order are lighter than we ever knew them at this period of the year. The stocks in the manufacturers' hands are light, and prices in consequence rule steady. This being be twixt the seasons, very little is doing by the home trade in the warehouses, but the American houses are pretty busy. - _ BRADFORD MARKET, THURSDAY, JUNE 10.—The wool market was extremely dull. The sales were com paratively small. Prices were firmly maintained, in-is much as wool cannot be bought of the farmers at a rate which will meet purchasers in this market. The yarn market continues in a very unsatisfactory state. There is more doing in the export trade, but nut to any amount to relieve this brunch ()four manufacture. The spinners are mostly engaged to oreer. There was an average business done in the piece market, especially in dress goods. A considerable number of orders were also given for moreens. We consider that the American merchants are at present the principal purchasers in our market. There was no alteration in price. TRADE OF MANCHESTER, T HURSDAY EVENING.— There is certainly no one in the trade who can call to mind when the trade of this district was in so thoroughly depressed and unsatisfactory a state as at this moment. Both spinners and manufacturers seem as though quite resigned to carry on their concerns without profit, but would be too happy in doing so it it could only be done without absolute loss. This, however, cannot be done, and ihe consequence is a further limitation of the hours of labour, or a total closing of their mills ; aid there is every prow( ct that, in another month, the consumption of the staple will be reduced full 50 per cent., ascompared v:ith that twelve months ago. The home trade gives no sign of improvement. NOTTINGLIADL—The cotton hose trade, especially the cut. up branches, continues in a stagnant condition, bodies of men having been out of employment fur weeks. The wrought hose branch is in a dull state. The silk hosiery trade is half extinct, though there is yet hope, as the two principal houses in the trade that make good articles are in a much better state as regards employ m the e L u t,E t iit t cp . or : scr t a le E t dße i T s , v t .h i o d et , t, than iriengiis ,ams e t h iair oe who e , eveileyw. have embarked in any improvement in our market since our last, and a ork has been given out very cautiously. Spinners continue still to work short time, and yarns are extremely dull of sale. Wools are flat, at prices in favour of the stapler.— Leicester Journa. THE EXPIRING PARLIAMENT. As nearly six years have elapsed since tia last general election, it may not perhaps be altogether uninteri- sting to our readers to be reminded of the course that was th( n adopted with respect to the dissolution of the old and the formation of the new Parliament. Her Majesty in per son p ror ogued gueddistshoelotthieons by Par p li r a oc m i e s n is t s o t n io n the the following day, the new Parliament being summo ned to meet, and met accordingly, on the 19 th of August— u a period of fifty-eight days thus intervening bet w een th e of t w o events. The Legislature having then assembled, the p t 0 2 0 2 k d place trn o June, 1841. sittings continued for a period of seven weeks, namely, from August 19 to October 7, when the session, by suc cessive adjournments, was carried over until February in the following year. Supposing this precedent to be fol lowed on the present occasion, and that Parliament be adjourned on one day and dissolved on the following, then allowing, as in the former instance, fifty-eight days for the elections and the interval necessary for and consequent upon the calling of a new Parliament, the second session of the 11th Victoria will commence on the 7th of Sep tember. On the previous occasion, the new Parliament commenced its sittings on the 19th August, which were protracted until the 7th of October, principally from the fact of Lord Melbourne's Government having been out voted on the address in both Houses, in reference to the paragraph in the Speech from the throne, calling upon Parliament to consider the laws regulating the trade in corn, with the view of determining whether they did not aggravate the natural fluctuations of supply, embarrass trade, derange the currency, diminish the comforts and increase the privations of the people, votes which neces sarily led to the delays and adjournments consequent upon the formation of a new Administration. Circum stances, however, have changed since then ; Sir R. Peel has changed ; the corn-laws are all but defunct ; and it may. therefore, be presumed that the forthcoming initia tory session, if it commences on or about the 7th of Sep tember, will terminate in a month or five weeks from that period, should no untoward circumstances, foreign or domestic, intervene.— Observer. ARRIVAL Or SIR HARRY G. SMITH AT CHELTEN HAM.-Sir Harry G. Smith arrived in this town on Monday evening, a course of the Cheltenham waters having been recommended by his me decal attendants. In proceeding from the railway station to the Belle Vue Hotel, Sir Harry passed near the College, the pupils of which' were drawn up in file, and sig nalised his approach with loud cheers. Sir Harry in a brief address toanked them for the compli ment. A considerable crowd had assembled in front of the bitel to get a sight of the hero, but as Sir Harry's party drove quietly .up in a single carriage, few of the watchers noticed its arrival. The bells, however, were immt.diately set in motion, and continued firing at intervals d uring the evening. Yes terday (Wednesday) at half post one o'cock, about a hundred of the resident gentry a.nd tradesmen met at the Assembly rooms. They formed a procession, headed by Captain Kirwan, M.C., and accompanied by the sionipellier band, for the purpose of waiting upon Sir Harry Smith with an . address of congratulation. I n presen ting it, Captain K irwan said that nearly 700 sig natures bad been obtained, notwi t hstanding th e short ness of the time. Sir Harry Smith having return e d an appropriate reply retired; and the deputation having given three cheert! fur Lady Smith, , itts, withdrew.— , Gilt/tasks Oro/wk. HAYMARKET THEATRE. One of Mr. Planche's clever adaptations of a French comic drama, was produced on Saturday night, under the title of The. Jacobite, and was received with the utmost favour by a crowded audience. The plot, as the name indicates, is taken from that page in the history of this country when, after the battle of Culloden, the adherents of Charles Stuart were hunted down and executed without much ceremony or forms of law. Major Murray (Mr. Howe), one of these proscribed Jacobites, is an object of interest to Lady Somerford (Miss Fortescue), a young widow, whose ample for tune is coveted by her late husband's cousin, Sir Richard Wroughton (Mr. Stuart), and to possess which he determines, if possible, to compel her to marry him. Sir Richard is a staunch royalist, with powerful interest at Court, which Lady Somerford prevails on him to employ to procure the pardon or the young major, who is-concealed in the neighbour hood. Sir Richard yields to her wishes, and obtains the pardon, but deter.nines not to give it to Lady Somerford unless she consents to give him her hand. A note from the lady to the major, appointing a rendezvous at the Crooked Billet, a little roadside public house, is dropped by Patty Pottle (Miss Reynolds), her confidante and mes senger, and is picked u p by zsir Richard, v` hose jealous suspicions are aroused, though the note is without signature, and he resol ves t o wa i t at T he C roo k e d Billet until the unknown writs!. appears. Patty, ter rified lest Lady Sumerford's secret should be disco vered, persuades Sir Richard that the place of meeting has been changed from " The Crooked Billet" to " The Greyhound," whither he hastens, after having engaged Duck (Mr. Buckstone), the devoted lover of Patty Pottle, to report to him faithfully everything that happens during his absence at " The Crooked Billet." Sir Richard is to give Duck a hundred pounds for this service, and the latter resolves to per form it most accurately ; with this intention he con ceals himself in a linen chest, which Mrs. Pottle (Mrs. Stanley) locks, and nearly stifles Duck, who is at length obliged to call for help while the Major and Lady Somerford are engaged in con versation. The lady escapes, and the major breaks open the chest and drags out the half-smothered Duck. who receives from Major Murray two hundred pounds not to mention to Sir Richard anything he had heard or seen while in the chest—a promise that he cannot break, as he was totally unconscious of all that passed in the room after the chest had been locked. Sir Richard returns, and obtaining no information from Duck, orders him to be seized and carried to gaol. The same evening Major Murray, under an assumed name, obtains by stratagem the situation of secretary to Sir Richard, and is present on the following morn ing, when the prisoner Duck is brought up to be examined by Sir Richard, who hopes still to wrest the truth from him as to the meeting at The Crooked Billet on the previous evening. There he recognises, in the secretary, the person who had given him two hundred guineas to say nothing, and he falls into the mistake that th e stranger had come to meet Patty, privately. Mad with jealousy, he accuses him of the crime to Sir Richard, who is, however , not so easily led astray—a st r i c t investigati on takes plase, which ends by Major Murray's identity being discovered, and his life placed in the hands of his enemy. One way of saving his life al one rema i ns : if L ady Somer .! ford will marry Sir Richard, or make ovir to him all her. property, he consents to give her the pardon which he holds. She hesitates ; and be, to show his determination, places the pardon in the grate, and with a lighted candle is prepared to set in a blaze it she refuses. At this critical moment Duck, who had climbed up the wide chimney, endeavouring to es cape, comes tumbling down, covered with soot ; he seizes the royal pardon, gives it to Lady Somerford, who gives to her lover life and a wife at the same time. Buckstone's drolleries kept the house in perpetual screams of laughter; his scene with Mur ray after he is dragged out of the chest, and his jealous scene in the second act, were irresistibly humorous. Miss Fortescue's Lady Somerford was an easy and interesting personation, without being very dramatically striking. Miss Reynolds played with great vivacity in the part of pretty Patty Pot tle; she sang a song which was much applauded. The other characters were very well sustained by. Mr. Howe, Mr. Stuart, and Mrs. Stanley. The ap plause on the fall of the curtain was most enthusias tic ; and the piece was given out by Mr. Buckstone for repetition every evening amidst reiterated plaudits. The piece would, however, be much improved if the first act were greatly curtailed. LYCEUM THEATRE. On Friday evening the very successful career of this establishment, under the management of Mr. and Mrs. Keeley, was brought to a premature close, in consequence of the misunderstanding which had arisen with Mr. Arnold, and with the particulars of which misunderstanding our readers are already well acquainted. It is unnecessary for us to observe more of this final night of an unusually prosperous theatrical managership than by saying that it was ap propriately the benefit-night of the two Keeleys, and that the performances were Martin Chuzzlewit, Jenny Lind, and the Bottle Imp. The entertainment was vociferously and deservedly applauded throughout and, at the conclusion, Mrs. Keeley stepped to the footlights, and feelingly delivered the f o ll ow i ng Farewell A ddress from th e pen of Mr. Albert Smith To night, dear friends, no lightly-worded string Of jests and puns to raise your laugh I bring : No promises of novelty in store l'o please you, can I make, as heretofore. I come but now to thank you for the past ; Since here we meet for the last time—the last. Yet as the soldier tired of war's alarms, Loves to recount his-by-gone deeds of arms, Fain would I name, before we part for good, A few old friends who firmly by us stood ; Since first Young Bailey came—the wilful scamp, With that good woman, " which her name was Gamp." Then, listening. to The Chimes, no wrongs could turn The love of Meggy Veck from Lillian Fern, Next, in the Cricket on tie Hearth's shrill sound Poor Dot—" That's me again, John,"—comfort found. And lastly, in ife'sßattle sorely tried, Clemency Newcome rubbed her arms and cried. Turn we from the great writer-of the age To other gayer friends who trod this stage. First, of the tribe burlesque upon our roll, Forty fair Thieves your early favour stole. Then young Aladdin brought before our lights More gorgeous stores from the Arabian Nights. Next bold Sir Valentine obtained your praise, And savage Orson danced his truandaise. Then, turn'd again by Bow bells' nursery air, Little Dick Whittington became Lord Mayor; And from the kitchen, where she long had pined, Poor Cinderella felt your welcome kind. What wondrous objects follo , secl in their course; Prince Firouz Schah and his Enchanted Horse; Bold Robin Hood, and dashing Little John, The Magic Horn, and cup of Oberon, The Enchanted Forest, and its strange live stock, rill the Rood Dcemon cried, " Past one o'clock !" It has been urged by critics most protound, Our efforts might have taken higher ground: That we threw o'er the grand for the grotesque, And gave our chief attention to burlesque. But if the topics of the day were hit By pointed epigram or harmless wit; Or Care's dull, gloomy visage was beguiled Into a lighter train of thought, and smiled— If you but felt, whilst laughing at our fun, The sands of common life more brightly run, Surely you will not " such small deer" abuse For answering one grand object—to amuse. Aid now, the saddest task is left. To all, Who thus to -night, responded to our call, With more deep feeling than mere words can tell, Let mi, but speak that cruel one—Farewell! One hope alone can rob it of its pain— That, at some period, we may meet again!" Mrs. Keeley retired with some emotion at the warmth of the greeting from the audience, evinced in continued plaudits and showers of bouquets. A voice in the galleries enquired of Keeley " Where shall we see you again ?" to which he replied " Somewhere and soon, I hope." Those who will coincide in this aspiration, we are sure, will be very numerous, and very sincere. Mr. and Mrs. Keeley carry with them the good will and kindly sympathies of the public, on their temporary withdrawal behind the scenes. PRINCESS'S THEATRE.--A new comic drama, under the title of Ladies I Beware I was announced at this theatre on Saturday evening, but in consequence of the indisposition of Mrs Stirling, who was to have sustained aprincipal part, its first representation was postponed. The little farce of A Wife for an Hour was substituted for the novelty, but it was not permitted to proceed quietly without an explanation as to the cause of the change. Mr. Walton was compelled to inform the audience that that day at noon he had received a medical certificate (which he read) from Dr. Hall, stating the impossibility of Mrs. Stirling's appearance in the even ing. Notices, he added, had immeliately been posts din all the avenues of the theatre; and what more, he asked, could be done ? With this the audience appeared satis fied, and the substituted farce went on. But, for our own part, we can say that we taw nothing in the shape of a notice announcing the postponement of the new piece until we had reached the interior of the house, and had already paid our money, and on quitting tl.e theatre a closer inspection did not t nable us to discover any in• timation of the sort sat the entr , nce or outside the doors. The engagement of Mr. Macready at thi s th eatre terms . na a te d i am n e ex v t ~wstereis commenc e k,whenNlr a . series Charle s of ho e r w m s a n a c n e i Madame porcetvoiboeur. I previous tot t l' i le s i s r a litd.sst,h•east Mr. hip of Lawrence t he L v Lceueinv-y-. catre, in ciation for the Lyce um till S ep , etn b-r, wh e n t i h s e in a il lt • g ra u : tii.ns and emb e lli s h ments required will commence.— Observer. [AD ‘ MITISE MENT.) - --UNPRECEDENTED CURE BY HoLLowirs PILLS , Thomas Symonds, formerly of Cha t ham ia Dockyard, r esiding av in Gray cl - lane ars , Seutliwark,wehanarded leis swenio osed to g. been una bl e to do adffoechtisd. w ork h in f g or a d th is r tr ee essi n e g cough. wi isl t u h f ng e s e , besides which he co u ld scarcely ever keep anyth i ng o h his stom ach, and was generally so weak ant, ill as to barely have power to stand . ; yet in three m on th s t hi s poor matt acqu i re d almost a new cons ti • Union by taking Holloway's Pills, and is now oecome so tsoroushlY setarropnegntaenrdown sward as to a to bevaesableeltoaubonduettrakuoingthetolabolieriwour4os duuthtiesyvaolfesta. These invaluable pills aresold at ProfessorliellowaY'sgstabliatmeu 20 1 5440, Leads, 00 Iv all OOP ia;Paciaw. QUESTIONS FOR CANDIDATES. (From the Dispatch ) Mr. Editor,—We have an election in prospect more completely devoid of purpose than any which has occurred for many years. The " sense of the people" [ is about to be taken, and nobody knows upon w h at sub ject. There is no appeal to the constituencies by any party. In recent denotes, or pending measures, no great antagonist principles have been brought into colli sion. Even the lower excitemwnt of party preponder ancy is wanting. Nobody expects tnat the result can so strengthen Lord G. Bentinck's faction as to carry him ii t ; and nobody, except that faction, cares about. keeping out Sir Robert Peel. Eleeters will go to poll, simply because it is the time. Pat liament approaches, as nearly as is customary, to its natural period of dissolution. No great harm would happen, nor any particular good that I know of, from the re-election of its Members in a lump. There will, probably, be some changes ; but it is the toss of a half penny whether they be for the better or the worse. Clouds and sunshine affect us far more, just now than WhiAs and Tories. The aspect of a corn field is much more important than that of a canvassing book. Fo re i gn grain is the question ; not foreign policy. This indif ference of the public mind noes nut stop the custom of cross-examining our candidates. It often multiplies questions in proportion as their importance is diminished. Every conundrum of a clique, or crotchet of an indivi dual, has its chance. Instead of having to stand the dis. charge of a cannon, whose ball strikes him deed if it hits at all, the aspirant is peppered with perpetual small shot, the largest of which is only some silly stuff about cen tralisation or Sunday schools. As to what will come •of it all, safer were it to pretend to prophecy the winner of next year's Derby. A nd yet, under these unexciting and unpropitious circumstances, the country's representatives and legis lators must be chosen ; and the power so c, nferred, whether on the wise or the foolish, the knavish or the honest, may continue for seven long years to come. Surely, then, it is a fitting season for the mind of every elector who feels the sacredness of his trust, to advert to the general principles of Government and the perma nent wants of the people. If candidates do not know what to say to us, we should know what to say to them. 'The compromises of parties, and the pettiness of per sonal pretension, should not sink into littleness the powers of a great nation over the policy of its rulers. If blue and yellow are only symbols of party or paltry interests, electors should start questions indicative of those which are great and national. Amongst these may come foremost, " What do you intend to do with the taxation of the country?" "To put as much of it as we can into our own pockAs," would in many cases be the most honest answer that could be given. But the language of such a reply would not be Parliamentary. It is least likely to be made when it is most likely to be meant. The subject will be evaded, for the sake of future Chancellsrs of the Ex chequer. Perhaps the candidate will pledge himself to vote fur the repeal of some local or class burden, by way of a sop to his influential constituents. The interest of the people requires a complete revision of our whole system of taxation. The corn laws were only a single item of abuse. They took from the consumers and the indus!rious, to the advantage of the possessors of pro perty. In this, there was nothing peculiar. The Customs and Excise do the same thing through the whole round of their operations. Every article that we purchase from another country is obviously the dearer for ea import duty. Every articie of home production is the dearer for the Excise. When we see returns of the millions raised by duties on tea, sugar, tobacco, or soap, there is often a misty n ,tion in people's minds that the sugar. &c. pay so much to the Government. It is reckoned a tax on articles, and not on persons. Non sense I It is the man who drinks tea, and sweetens it, and smokes, and washes, that pays the money. He is the paymaster, just the same as if the duty were levied on the act. Suppose a policeman keeping the key of the caddy, and d -mending pence for the spoonfuls be fore they go into the teapot. Or standing at the shaver's elbow, and stopping the brush when it begins to twirl in the soap dish, until the proportionate cash has legalised the lather. It the plan were practicable, we would pay less this way ; and the trade arising from importa tion would not be checked. In fact, we tax trade, we tax cheap drinking, we tax cleanliness ; and we leave comparatively untaxed the inheritance of large revenues for which no service is ren dered to the State. Out-of fifty millions of annual tax ation property pays rather more than two; consumption and industry pay the remaining forty-eight. That is to say, they are paid by the masses. They are taken from those who have only what they earn. The proprietary of Great Britain contributes the merest trifle towards the cost of protecting and governing Great Britain. All taxation is essentially an insurance of the safety of pro perty, and that insurance is mainly paid by industry. Folks are gull, d because the tax is paid indirectly. Their hands are not actually put into their pockets for it at the bidding of a collector. The trick is dune out of sight. We do not see the machinery of Custom house leger demain. The cotton free traders have carried their point, but the tea and sugar free traders, the snuff, cigar, and French wine free traders, the soap -suds free traders are left in the lurch. There will they re main till they bestir themselves. The election is an pp. portunity. No man deserves a vote who is not for re moving the burden of taxation fr..m industry, and laying it upon property Education is also a topic of permanent concern, and which reqaires to be pit On the broadest principle. The sects are all making their market of it; and the esta blished sect in particular. The ashop of Exeter wants to quarter the unemployed clergy on the school-house. He would make it a refuge for the clerical destitute. If there be not a spare parish for the priest, make him a p.alagogue. Education grants may thus become a sort of p,or-taw for the p,rsons. Those who have riot talent enough for the pulpit, or not interest enough for a living—" stickit Ministers," as such forlorn abortions are called in Scotland—wPl c , rne upon the school for relief. Let the Lord Harry of Exeter a'one for turning a penny of public money. Ile thinks of the pence, while Dissenting bigots think of the Papists. The Me thoe.ists who insist on a Protestant version of the Bible, are not less perverters of National Education. There is practi cally an end of instruction for the masses, beyond drilling into the catechisms of different creeds, unless we revert to the ground originally taken by the Government, and of late so pusillanimously abandoned —that of providing the means of what is called secular education for all, and leaving churches to supply tae theology. The difficulties of this plan have passed away. Its adoption would not cost the Whigs their places. Their taint hearts need not palpitate. Dr. Hook cleared the way for them. All sects and parties would have acquiesced ; they will still acquiesce, if the plan is revived with a determined pur pose. Those electors who really care for national edu cation may exert themselves with decisive elf,,ct. Let them disregard the petty exclusions or appropriations at which sects are aiming. LA them go direct to the sup ply of the great popular want. Let them ask, " Are yeti, or are you nut, for securing to all the means of in. structton, leaving theology to the voluntary supply of those concerned ?" The p ,or-law should not be forgotten ; especially that very much neglected part of the sulsject, the burden of the rates upon the poor. Au objection is often made to dealing kindiy awl liberally wan paupers, that the ex pense pauperises the rate-pa) era, wh t are struggling Hard for their own subsist. rice. The fact is certain ; but the i7iference that the paupers should, therefore, be squeez.d and stinted, is most fallacious. There is another way of ceasing to ptuperite the struggling poor by the pressure of poor-rates. That other way is, not to exact pour-rates at all from the poor. The theory of the income tax is, that every man should be exonerated from paying, in that form, to the State, who has less than 150/. a year. Yet, how many are assessed for public charity wbo earn less tt an the half of that amount. The goods of the starving are seized for the expenses of a starvation law. The faces of the poor are ground to pay for the grind stone. The State is niggardly charitable to the entirely paupers, out of the pittances of semi and three-quarter paupers. And this system is intended to last. 'the Pour-law Reformers expend their fury on the Com missioners. The Ministry will cast Jonas overboard to still the storm. And the paying poor, and the destitute poor, are left, if they like, to go to the dogs, or the devil together. Time and space allowing, there are three other topics which I would enlarge upon. as well deserving legis lative attention, during the next septennial period of Parliamentary existence. The Healths of Towns Bill is a failure unless the cliques and jobbers of vestries and corporations are checked, as they would at once be checked, by popular demonstration. At present, the production of fever is amongst the privileges of house property. There is a trade in t} phus. Masses of human beings are so lodged that they might envy the beasts in the Zoological Gardens. The interested juntas exert their influence. Are there no voters that have a voice for the people ? Again, the assertion of religious liberty and equality is an enduring principle. Instead of picking out Maynooth grants, and such small fry, for protesting, why not exact a declaration against any partiality whatever, by the State, for any creed what ever ? And last, though certainly not least, every voter who is generous or just, will bear in mind that he is one of the possessors of an involuntary monopoly ; h e belongs to a politically privileged class ; and the great majority, six to one, of his fellow -countrymen, belong to a slave-class. If electors ask no questions, candidates will make no promises. It is true, indeed, that hustings' promises are commonly classed with lovers' vows. But if we cannot secure integrity, the next best thing is, to expose inconsistency. The ready tools of a Ministry or party may be despoiled of the plea that the people are indif ferent. We may be true to ourselves, in this, our rarely recurring opportunity. And questions of principle, calmly and firmly put, may prove the more impressive Irons the absence of party excitement. It would do legislators a world of good to make them feel that they are under some degree of responsibility to an intelligent LIBLICOLA. and determined people. ADDISCOMBE.—The half-yearly public examination s r a Hon Honourabl e of the gentlemen cadets educated at the East l etni n iei li i a elin t - . ; ; o ,hec t n akowif pany's Military Seminary took place on Friday, in the pre-. n sense of the Chairman, henry St. George Tucker, E,q. 1 the D u e r, p l u i i t n ) g - -Chairman, 0 h n a , i rat . c . a n 13 , I L de . i ts e ewTe u dvi te leare n tsa a el n iihh t am - ail G; rip ri : e dune r ebrs a tin t ,i n, of the estate r ttthahet s e : s are d • ted . mark,t. The propi-rty, it will i 1 041 C. 101:41 once I Bhen r Ea t a ipm l i i if f sosohrwiße pdel Directors, );sn,o,l:. lehaEbe a t nr a. i-pi vs 1 ,1 i Er e: l. . l llr; B et. ck w in a g s h p a u tn re s ki h j a r : d by s i . Lord t iller s i ncery Vane.—Bed s nfer. from d a ' Mercury• _. _ The - Bulldog steamer in the Tagus had been ordered to be got ready to come to England with further dispatches relating to the disposal of the prisoners, &,, and may be daily expected. The Polyphemus has been ordered by telegraph to coal, and be got ready for immediate service, and will probably have to return to Lisbon this eventing on, Commander PdVieverty's return from London. TH ri s LONDON, MONDAY MO_RNING, JUNE l4, 1847.