The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1825-11-05 00:00:00

Betting, 6 to 5 on Don Cerint.
. .

There wu nothing decisive in the running till they made the
poles, when Arnull, on Reformer, got a little in front; but Goodi.
son soon recovered Hs ground, when a terribl: slashing sutural.
ensued ; and so truly and closely was it run, that the Judge pro.
'minced it a dead heat.
Subscription Handicap Plate of BBL for 3 yr olds and upwards.
1),I.
Mr. Wyndham*s gr c Stumps, 3 yrs, 7st 91b . I
Col. Wilson's bl m Black Daphne, 6 yrs, flat 121 b . 2
The following also startrd. but were not placed by the J
Mr. Alolony's Cinder, 5 yrs, Bat 611,
Mr. Lambton's Spermaceti, 5 yrs. Bat 2lb

Duke of Rutland's El Dorado: 4 yrs. Ist 91b
Mr. Rush's b c by Pioneer—llingtail, 2 yrs, 7st Ilb
Betting, 6to apt Stumps, and 4 and sto I apt Bird
Daphne.
Black Daphne and Cinder made the running to the turn of the
lands, when Stumps got up, rid here Cinder and the others were
told out. The remainder of the ground was beautifufly disputed,
and won by little better than a neck.
etch 200.
Duke of Grafton's Rufus rcc GC from Mr. Thornhill's Surprise.

THE APPOINTMENTS FOR TO-MORROW.
Audley Erd Stakes of 30 sovs each. for three r olds and upwards.
A.E.C.
Lord Exeter's Zealot, 5 yes, B,t lolb
Lord Anson's Sligo. 4 yes, Bsr 21h
Duke of Gratton'a Cramer, 3 yr., 7.4 t 21b
Alr. Hunter's gr f by Wahon—Liaette. 3 yrs. 50 81b
Brother to Addy and Mortgage pd ti.
Sweepstakes of 10 soya each, for 2 vr olds, colts Sat lib,
41b.
Match 100, h ft. T.V.C.
Lord Anson's Ins, Bst 131 b, apt Duke of Grafton's Lilies,
7st 71b. . _

Match 100. h rt. T.V.C.
Mr. Wilssn's Tarand us, 8-t jib, agst Ld Ortord's Orion. 84t

;tcl)

I.‘ .1

..Sr J. Byng's Skirmisher, B.st Jo.), agst M . ..r Lee _T fby _moo
lensko, 85t.

Match fil). First half of Ab.M.
Sir J. Shelley's Leila, Bat eib, agst General Grosver.es
Palfrey, est.

(BY EXPRESS).
NEWII A IiKET—ERIDAr.
Match, 50 sues.
Sir J. Bynit's Skirmisher
Mr. Lee'l4 Sitiolensko f.

Match, 100 soya.

Lord Orford's Orion
Mr. Wilson's Tarandus

Match, 100 Ems.
Lord F,xeter's, Patois Royal
Mr. Greville't. Flounder

M such, 200 sovi.

Mr. Wortley's S;andal -
• Mr. Wyntitinn Caine! -
Match, 50 sou.

Sir J. Shelley's Leila
General Grosvenor 's The Palfrey
Au(Ley Ern: Stake..

Lord Amon's Sligo
Duke of Grafton',. Cramer
3lr. Hunter's Lisette f.

The long pending match at eleven pigenes each. bet wail
picked men of the Ashton and New Hats Clubs., against it:
All England, took place yesterday morning on the finettl
sure for ISO sovereigns, and the shooting exhibited the hen et
u three birds only escaped. The following was the mull
F.X6L‘Wri. KILLED. THE Cf.l:l3i. KII
Mr. A. T. Hethrington, II Mr. Arnold. • •
Mr. Rowecroft, - 19 Captain Swil,
Mr. Hodges, . 9I Mr. Ma) bank, •

3O
Both Mr. Hodges's birds died out of bounds, nne of Cl.
Smiths, and two of .Ir. 3laybank's, so that only three got a.

MASTERS AND SERVANTS.—A correspondent, in tit
encc to t lie paragraph which appeared unilert his head in
paper of yesterday, stating that masters have no rim'
against their servants " except the contract for h:.lry
reduced into writing and signed by tin. contrr.ci:i.g
ties," suggtats that it would be as well if we
public attention to the remaining part of the clan:
we referred, and by which it is enacted, that !thy ri
persons " OS Chall cut, r intently such scrN'sr, xr. l +1;;•1
sent himself or herse:f before the term of his or ;,,r
tract, whether such emitted shill be in uritiv "7 1.:
writing, shall be completed, or neglect to fulfil n' 5,7
will subject himself or herself to imprisonment in
House of Correction, there to remain and be kqt to b,
labour for a reasonable tune, not exceeding three wen.
—Vide 4th Ceo. IV. cap. 34, sec. 53.

I

LITERARY CLEARINGS.

No. I.IV.

Trot FUNERAL.—In the church-yard at Wool'Raton
there is a tomb-stone with the following inscription
In memory of FRANC!. lAA!, who died on the 23e1 of
December, 18—, aged 40 years." I saw this grave re-
ceive its tenant ; and there were many circumstances of
„trios connected with it, in addition to those inseparable
from such a scene. LVAL was one of those interesting and
Ailed beings in whom " la lame use le fourrean:"The
;wool eats away the scabbard. This chess of persons is
not onnumerous ; and yet we feel towards each of its in-
dividuals as if he aline belonged to the race. There is a
send halo round those whom we see in the bloom of
year; de.li pea for the grave ; who at the time when others
arc wring hopefully forward to the pleasures and pro-
verities of life, have their thoughts fixed solely on eternal
mum Their prospects are all beyond the grave—their
impel are all in heaven.
LvAL was at school with me ; and being some years my
joke, and his parents being known to mine, he was, in
pine measure, under my protection. I had thus occasion
to witness the buddings of a mind 'which gave promise to
be one of no common order. I was sent to an University
the Continent, and lost sight of Lyal for some yearn.
tt that age health is little looked to, further than the ab-
ince of direct sickness ; and he had not heeded, and I had
not marked, signs which might have foretdd what fol-
I,,ed. As it was, I hadmo thought of finding him in the
sate I did. On my return from the Continent I went
germ into the part of the country where his parents lived,
:oil one of the first persons I asked for was Lyal. I was
la that he was in a rapid consumption, and the first mo-
ment I saw him too fatally confirmed it. The deep red
hectic spot burned in the centre of his cheek. The tire of
„nine was fading from his large grey eye, and was sup-
plied by the false brightness of hs deceitful malady.
din of his forehead was of that perfect and trans-
parent white which adds the mockery of beauty to the
ravages of disease ; and his bright brown hair had that
naken pow whiz!) is common in persons of delicate frame.
lie bad always been tall, sod his form was now wasted to
a fearful thinness ;—but if his figure had the spareness of
a grerhound, it hut much of its elegance also. His gait
was the fin-footed tread of weakness, not :be bounding
cep which is common to youth. In a word, he was wasted
to almost the utmost point of fragility to which the human
frame can be reduced without dissolution. But it is re-
roarkaVe that in this extreme degree of extenuation neither
Isis figure nor his face evinced the least effeminacy. If the
vigour of mighty intellect was gone, its mark was indelibly
atarnp,d upon the features. Genius might have sunk from
its " throne of light," but it was plain that it had once
hen there. Its traces, indeed, will always he visible
where it has once existed. A volcano may have passed
assay, but its vestiges will still remain.
I.val showed great happiness at seeing me. He smoke-
wit]; tenderness of former days, and alluded, in a manner
the treat heart-touching, to the frustration of the hopes
which I had felt and expressed concerning him. He ac-
koowledged that he also had once hoped to have done
something which would have made his name live behind
him ; and it seemed to be Isis chief regret that he was going
down to the tomb without having, as he expressed it,
"done one thing for which it was worth while to have

He had been at Ortroan, and had distinguished himself
n.ucb during the short time his health pennitte.: him to
its, there. But he (lid not remain long enough at the
Omen:lay to attain any of its higher honours. It ap-
pend, however, that he had Bogert(' on there too long ;
that he had striven ngainst declining strength, until he had
sank at once under increasing distase into the state of
debi:ity in which I found hint—and from which lie never
recanted.

The following lines, which were found among his papers
after his death, prove plainly the existence of his sadness,
tart they throw but little light upon its cause:—
The freshness of my heart's young day
Nothing can now rrature—
Its early bloom once pas,ed away
Can be regait,cd no more.
'Ti, true that still in years I'm young
But in sorrow I ton °U—
N, heart's elastic chord's unstrung,
Its youthful glow's groan cold.
The comrades of my boyish days
Are what their age should be—
noshed with the world, their eager gate
Looks coward ardently I
Bat l am like the youthful tree
The lightn—ig strikes to earth—
Onee scathed, its bloom no more will be ;
It knows no second birth.
I was in the country when LYAT. died ; and, having
hero a school-fellow and a youthful friend, 1 was asked to
attend the funeral. It was an office indeed of pain, but I
did not hesitate to go. A young man of such distinguished
promise was naturally the idol of his parents ;—in dreadful
addition he was their only child ! Of the mother's grief
it the time I cannot speak, for, of course, I saw it tot;
but to use a homely but most forceful phrase, " She has
never held up het' head since.' The father's sorrow I did
ice, for be would not be dissuaded from being himself the
:Lief mourner :—he said he was so in heart, and he would
be in form.

alas. what a morning that was! When I arrived at the
Louse, I was admitted by a servant whom I recognised as
basing been the tutor and associate of poor Lyal in his
held sports. The man said nothing, but the unspeakable
look which he gave me as be showed me to the room where
the eorapany was assembled, was the very epitome and
mane of speechless sorrow and affection. But on °ca-
tholic like these. circumstances of contrast add pain as
reach as those of parrailel,—at least it was so in this case.
When I entered the room where the mourners were, I
mild not but be forSbly struck with the strong differ-
ence of expression on the countenance of the servant and
the friends—friend,!—of the deceased. There were
-linen a dozen persons present, who were in detached
Pupa talking, as I found, of the gossip of the county
at the general news of the day. A young man, who
had seen at school wi.h Lial and me, came up to me as
entered, and, after saving, " Poor fellow ! who would
have Bought it !"—in a tone as if he considered it ne-
.

"yr., rs my something on the subject which occasioned
vur meeting, began to discuss the merits of a ni,w horse
which I had seen him on a few days before. The wretched
Isa!).rr was. I need rcirrely gay, not present: his feelings
"%at, I think. has,: imposed some restraint on three
swallow-like profaners of the name of friend.
Sly heart sickened to see the hollowness of what is called
Splendotir of genius, warmth of feeling,
beauty ofPerson,— all these, joined in one for whom they
professedinterest, and cut off in the bloom of years, could
not for one Short hour suspend the thoughts or their shal-
l^ and frivolous pursuits,—even when they were gathered,
a' I 'lir; sar. around his corpse !
Thri feelins were mor strenghtened than interrupted
t!ii• en:ranee of the undertaker to furnish us with
s.'rrzeis and hat-lasnds. Ile was a busy, bustling animal,
w:uwed,Cogei look, and mercenary simper, showed plainly
thin all be lid was "in the way of business." We have
ro right to expeict grief from an hireling ; but there is
six:hr.? revolting in seeing the trappings of woe borne by
" whose mind is engrossed by the paltry pounds
ielach he can make by their display.
The village of IVoollaston, where Lyal is buried, is
alrsu fir,' miles from his father's house; and thither we
ruetrleil U tnot:rning toacilus, and, of course, at a foot's

lalcn we reached Winllaston. we quitted the carriages
'l' Church gate ; anti here, for the first time, 1 saw the
"• lie wa.c leaping on the arm of a relation, and tot-
-1 up the pathway tic‘t after the van into the church.
,1 the service was performed here, and this, per-
mottrnf,t. part of the whole. It was on
tat the church, which WAS large, was
pt ourselves. The piercing cold struck to the
from the effect of the stone pavement of the
I its yaq uninlisbited space. The measured and
1" of LIPr clergyman echoed through the void of
I aiding wit. 3 a sadness and solemnity which went
at every panne of his voice, was heard
trys (leg+ Rl') of hilf-suppressed agony. At a cur-
.,
.riod in the sorvice. we went out to the grave. A few
1,11,31ers of the village had gathered round it, to gaze on
tr'ery of the funeral show. There war one woman

mo,t

so tt

with a wailing infant, which site was striving to hush.
Its cries attracted my notice:—and the commencement and
and the close of life being thus brought into immediate
opposition, caused, perhaps, the deepest feeling which I
experienced during that melancholy day.
The sinking the coffin into the gave is the most impres-
sive part of the ceremony of burial. It is then that the
dead seem finally cut off' from all connexion with the world
—it is then that we lose sight of them for ever ! At the
moment that the coffin sounded on the bottom of the grave,
I booked ion ards the.falher. Ills face at that moment is in-
delibly graven. on my memory; but I cannot embody its
expression in words. It made me light well understand why
the painter of old evaded tbe picturin; of parental agony.
These visitations, indeed, are far beyond all painting, whe-
ther of the pencil or the pen.
1 have been twice sin,: to the tomb of FR•NCIS LYAt.
The simple inscription I have cited is all thit remains to
tell of one who, had he lived, would, probably, have made
his name known in the four corners of the earth. Ile now
moulders unknown and unremembered in the church-yard
of a distant and obscure village ; and the passer-by, who
carelessly reads the legend on his headstane. attaches to it
no high2r idea than is excited by those of the numberless
grans mound it. With the exception of his father—his
mother never could—l am, perhaps, the only person who
cvsr has visited his tomb. I had been thrown but little into
contact with him, but I loved him much, and his fate has
left a deep impression on my heart and mind. I never go
to that part of the country without making a visit to his
grave.—.lthem.