The Sun.
London, England, 1852-09-16 00:00:00

greatest ceequerors and c net-at-nom have always done
their epsciai work rapidly. The last campaigns of
Alexander, Cseiar, and Napoleon were closed before en
about the pernei of the energy of middle life; Frederick
Of Prussia sod Marlborough each commanded in the
field after the age of fifty; but the Duke of WelllPg"
affords almost u solitary instance of a great warrior
whose life was prolonged-_.-andduties in other departments of State service—nearly
that for every aetive
forty yeart after his last battle was fought. The Duke's
actual career as a soldier was shorter than hie public
lite as a statesman. But what was that career, from
eighteen—Arthur Welleeley'e age when he received
his first commission—to six-and-forty, when ho was
hailed Prince of Waterloo? We cannot better esti-
mate it than by reviewirg the difficulties which the
Great Captain lied to face, and -by contrasting
his achievements with those of his meet illuvrious rival.
In this place it were Alike impos•ible and undesirable to
write a [tannery memoir. All that we can attempt is to
indicate these leading features of the Duke of Welling-
ton's generalship which illustrate
personal character,
and ushich, wo think, elucidate those general views
of his into r man which we yesterday ventured to sketch.
The military fame of England was at a decided ebb
at the close of the eighteenth century. The glories of
Blenheim and Malplaquet only survived as rapidly de-
caying traditions; and, in truth, Marlborough's career
itself was exceptional, and but
an evanescent burst of
triumph. Fifty years ago, England was unknown or
forgotten on the Continent as a European military
power. All antecedent presumptions were against us.
We had been ignominiously defeated in our American
colonies. The conquests of Clive—the real basis
of our coming grandeur—were so recent and
indistinct as to be
c''inparatively unappreciated.
We had subsidized Hessian mercenaries for
our internal defence. Our Canadian conquests
had, indeed, for a time, revived in the French nation
some memory of our ancient fame; but the conquest of
Wolfe was too distant to be influential. Our last mien•
nental general, the Duke of Cumberland, had not led
the world to expect much from our re-appearance on the
field of European strife. It was reserved for Wellesley
to inaugurate his military career in the Duke of York'scalamitous and impotent expedition to Holland. And it
was well for his training, moral as well as professional,
that it began in the presence of disaster and defeat. Ad-
versity is a sett) school in which to educate a conqueror.
The experience of military incapacity which wellesiay
gained in the swamps of Hollend leas his first, and,
perhaps, his most valuable lesson in war.
The scene changes. The willow bank is succeeded by
the palm-tree grove. From the mists of the Low Coun-
tries, Colonel Wellesley is launched
on the burning
learned in Europe are soon, and beneficially, to be
chequered by the impetuous energy which must decide
an Oriental battle. Assaye and Seringapatatn are the
complement of the dull, but salutary, service on the
Weser and the Meuse. The general has now received
his perfect training—the man of Waterloo has been
moulded in the most opposite schools of discipline. He
has learned how to handle a defeated and disheartened
corps—he has also had glorious experience in launching
the successful thunderbolts of war.
Yet his next campaign must be undertaken under
different, but still most trying, circumstances. The
expedition to Portugal was all but a forlorn hope. A
previous attempt under Sir John Moore had, indeed,
revealed—but only to gifted and very keen eves—that
smuebrOrldyinciatiileidne(wl'
there way true stuff in the British soldier.
• The army
was unpopular, both at home and abroad; and a
feeling prevailed that we were an invincible naval, but a
general
contemptible military power. The Ministry of the day
was unable to equip anything like an imposing
but was
which ren-
dered unity of action impossible; and the discredit-
si°urbefe.ctedCtoomamcaonmd plwexasitynootf
discredit-
able Convention of Cintra was not likely to inspire
confidence or hope. Sir Arthur Wellesley en-
tend on his first responsible European commend under
every conceivable combination of disadvantages.
Ha; pily, we had forgotten the old chess-board strategies
of military professors; but we had not substituted any
system of war in the place of discarded scientific
theories. The (hying and immoral method of Napo-
leon, which had already practically reduced the heart
of Europe into one imposing province, was such as no
British general either would or could imitate. It was
left to
art of the E
war, nglishand commathen tnder in Portugal to originate
an o apply it as he. best could.
And, with that simplicity of character and single-
ness of aim which were the soul of his power, ho
made it his first duty to create an army, and his
next to fight with it. Throughout his Peninsular
campaigns, this was the foremost thought with
Wellington—to husband his army; and this, we may
confidently say, is the solitary secret of his eventual
success. It was the application of a high conscientious
sense of moral duty. It was in this respect that ho
formed so remarkable a contrast with his great rival;
and the final triumph of Wellington over Napoleon only
illustrated the victory of principle over unscrupulous-
ness. Wellington kept his army by his own military
chest—Napoleon made war pay its own expenses. Tho
Emperor used his men as he would use cannon balls—
the English Commander knew that no money could re-
place the loss of a single disciplined soldier. Welling-
ton's dispatches discuss the commissariat, the supplies,
the arms, the equipment, the very shoes of his men—
Napoleon's proclamations deal in glory, honour, the
" witness of the ages," conquest, blood, and terror. If
Colonel Gurwood's publication mucks of the War-office
clerk, the Vietoites et Conqiletes has an undeniable twang
of the minor theatre. The result was, that Marengo and
Austerlitz collapsed into Waterloo, whilst Corunua ex-
panded into Vittoria and Salamanca.
We are not writing a military Plutarch—so we need
not pursue the parallel in all its details. But we arc
proud to remember that, when Napoleon was profuse in
his distribution of crosses and embraces, Wellington was
as work at his hospitals and his depots. Napoleon won
personal enthusiasm—Wellington earned universal confi-
dence. Napoleon was the idol of his soldiers—Welling-
ton was the friend of his army. Napoleon made men
aspire to the Legion of Honour or to a Marshal's baton
—Wellington knew no higher reward then the thanks
of the two Houses of Parliament. Wellington fought
for his country—Napoleon for himself. Between them,
as commanders, there was not, technically speaking,
so much to choose. Each knew bow to wield
his masses—each was perfect is mauceuvres—a
each was a general of absolute science. The
British Commander was slow in acquiring confi-
dence—the French Emperor was headstrong And un-
manageable in defeat. Time and experience did their
work differently on each, he cause they represented dis-
tinct mural principles. Wellington, in his final charges
and his pursuit of victory en the slopes of Mont St.
Jean, equalled the most brilliant and impetuous attacks
of Napoleon in his best days ;
but at Waterloo Napo-
leon had neglected a general's first duty, for lie had not
made the slightest provision for a retreat. And that
mighty conflict of principles, as well as of armies, has re-
sulted in a thirty-seven years' peace, Waterloo was as
much a moral as a military victory.
A single further illustration will show this cardinal
difference of morals in the two men and will account
for their opposite fortunes. ler
•• e allude to the contrast
between the French and the English treatment raw
of
levies. Napoleon used them up for the occasion—
men wore to him as muskets, and nothing more._
Wel-
lington saw in his recruits, riot only materials for
his immediate purpose, but responsible beings,
whom it was his duty to train into efficient soldiers- An
utter recklessness and disregard of human life
-
characteristic of the one policy—a painful and anxious
solicitude for the health and consequent usefulness of the
men was the guiding principle cf the other. Napoleoneifought battles, stormed towns, and laid waste sn--e_emn
dis-
tricts with fire and sword to paralyze a nation— vl"
W carug-
ton never fired a cannon but as a step in a planned jaffs, paign. Torres Vt dras is the type of the British::
but too faithful an illustration of the French mind
Nor is this moral contradiction confined to the, .ch merelywe
military contrasts developed by the careers which
'two been contemplating. Soule made a splendid fortune
s
by robbery; but there is not a picture or a jewel in the
e
halls of Wellington or Beresford, or Hill, which was not
a gift or a purchase. Wellington saved Pam from the
barbarian threats of Blucher—Nap we
murdered the
Due D'Enghien. And even in the
smallest matters
trace a like contrariety. Wellington endured patiently tho
associated incapacity of Cuesta and his Spanish colleagues,.__e
it not without a murmur, at least without while
Napoleon ostracised the
talents cf Bernadotte. VCh
ton had the art to conciliate, by prudent tetePorisinge and
' sound judgment, the most intractable of
allies—he
re-
duced the Junta of Cadiz and theobstinacyof Madridto a her ',less not
ese dependence; while Napoleon c
retain the train of monarchs who were in league with
him.

abiding and eternal less-on
mighty and reconciler has awarded
yinally—for these thinsg aro not without their
kind—the great
avengerto man
rivals h• - end and rettiou-
tier]. 'a appropriate
Napoleon died an exile and a prisoner—venting
to each of these
the bitterness of unrepented envy by leaving a legacy
to the . i
wreLen Who attempted Ow asisssination of his
er!o!iqueror; l•ut it was reserved for Wellington to enter-
tain in tlii own hotr-r, and at a social banquet, the
abhjet of rho French cvt,ins who had years before
opposed h
-itn in the field. Napoleon has left a name
which at this moment, works as the substantial
curse
in
. of his coitry ; whilst one universal
4C-Lktin of blessing and honour from every British heart
'euthanasia of our noble chieftain. Until 4re-
motest time the fate of will point the moralist's
Na ioleon
I
most indignant p>atire, and will mark the intrinsic hol-
lowness, vileness, and failure of ambition and tyranny ;
but the most distant generations will bound with delight
at thee recollection of him who beat illustrated, under un-
paralleled difficulties and temptations, the common vir-
tues of honesty and duty, and reverence for law, right,
and tru•h) and loyalty and patriotism!. The one is the
property of a fitful and luridromancethe other
laurelsbelont.
to the calm dignity of • •fame. Blasted
historic s
fell on the Solitary tomb of St. ffelens; but the patriot's
myrtle and the civic oakshall wreath the bier of our
hero A
' And justly; for Napoleon lived but for himself
6V L -11 i
ngton work:A for all but himself. The highest
ambition of Napoleon in his fall was--
Th " To dreg h 4 Nacrid into the mire with him."
The best reward of Wellington, after all his military
glories, was but
" To return home into life, and to become
A fellow-man among his fellow-men."
By (From ihe Daily IVeivs.)
, 6,4 Duke of Wellington's death a rich batch of
places
.. falls into the lap of the Minister—places of the
richest, and honours of the most showy and most co-
veted cics::. Vti'th the disposal of sore of these wind-
fallsthe ... + , .
tAttilic have but little right to meddle—in re-
ference to Others, it is their serious and urgent duty to
interfere. Who shall have the newly-vacant Garter—
whether my Lewd This or his Grace of That shall wear
it is not the eff. • 1 The blue riband is one
air otthe people,
of those
distinctions much prized for its rarity; intended
for the aristocracy, and in the dispos..l of which the
Crown and tic;Minister are exclusively entitled to decide.

The same may, perhaps, be said of the two Lord-Lieu-
tenancies of Hampshire and of the Tower flanslets. These
are offices in the peculiar gift of the Sovereign, and of her
advisers for the time being—offices which can and may
be allotted as seems hest to those in whose gift the law
places them. The colonelcy in the Grenadier Guards,
with its 1,200/. a year, will be a military perquisite—the
Mastership of the Trinity-boson concerns Tower-hill.
and the Chancellorship of Oxford will give a topic and
a duty to the Dons of that ancient seat of unreformed
learning. But after this concession, we must draw a die-
tinet line, and declare that all the other appointments
now vacant have a peculiar charac!er which renders the
r
e-dtspesal of them an affair of vital importance to the
well-being of the conrery.
Whilst the Duke of Wel-
lington lived nobody ever seriously thought of disturbing
any of the offices in his peculiar possession. The country
seemed never tired of rewarding him, as the round sums
one after another voted to la"
testify. After Badajoezb by Parliament sufficiently
and Salamanca they gave him
100,000/, to buy him
pension
iootnLfafter u
liTdo
sumnleu '.Toulouse 42 00 00; 00 00
00 11.. more; and after Waterloop
—besides voting him a his own life and ter
the lives of his two next male' i
heirs of 2,0001. a year,
subsequently raised to 4,0001., and
Pension
will
nepwad frompa.
no children,
be id
tthoethCeonpsreo--
lidated Fund. This
sent Duke of Wellington, and,
since he has
a
afterwards to Lord Charles Wellesley,
sur-
vive his brother, and, if not, to his heirin shouldle he
their father's titles, pension, and great priv.atenhwereiatlitnhg,
the children of the late Duke require no favours
the Ministry, and hence the disposal of thevacant
a"
fro
pointment is quite unfettered by tiny personal claim
-
behalf of the Wellington family. Would that nooalthoen private influences were in the way; but since suchr
things
do exist, they must be met boldly and openly. The
public service must not in this case be sacrificed to aid
tho wheedle of the courtier, or to 'enhance the bribe of
the partisan.
The important post of Commander-in-Chief must be
given to a thorough veteran soldier. We are told every
now and then that our coasts are in danger; if they
really were so, what we should do •if a carpet knight,
an aristocratic routineist, or a mere martinet of the drill
held the chief post of military power? We have seen
in the career of the great soldier who has just passed
away the vast importance of sterling practical ability for
the active operations of war. Sir Arthur Wellesley
became Commander. in-Chief because he was a victorious
general; the history of the late Duke of York shows
what come of appointments based on claims of another
sort—claims of pedigree and family position. The Duke
of York became Commander-in-Chief because he was
son of a King. The one is •lEDOWiI 'by' Witerloo—the
other by his melancholy failure in the Netherlands
'and his disgraceful proceedings with Mrs. Clarke.
Nothing is more truly practical than war; in nothing
is incompetence more fatal. Not only the safety of u
great empire, but even the progress of civilisation
itself, may be perilled by entrusting to wrong
hands the military machinery organized for national
purposes. To command armies veteran soldiers, not
amiable princes, are wanted. We want, too, not only
military experience and efficiency at the Horse Guards,
but active military energy. We want army reform. We
need real changes in present plans, not showy o- experi-
mental alterations of buttons and facings, but bond fide im-
provements in the dress and arming of our forces. The
last thirty-seven years have made great military reforms
abroad, some portion of which it would be well to have
adopted here. These a new Commander should from
old experience be able to appreciate, and with cam-
paigning promptitude be ready to adopt. Our loss of the
Duke of Wellington must be, as tar as possible, made
up by the wisdom exercised in the appointment of his
successor at the Horse Guards. Prince Albert and the
Duke of Cambridge have both been named by rumour
as possible candidates for the vacant command. But
Prince Albert already enjoys the military title of Field
Marshal, and is tee well provided for to need the
161. Bs. 9cl. a day which falls to a Commander-in-Chief
of his rank. The solid good sense ho has hitherto shown
must surely point out to him why ho should not aspire to
wield the baton resigned by the victor of Waterloo. In-
deed the rumour is too absurd. The Duke of Cambridge,
too, must surely be content with the many advantages
which his elevated birth has already secured to him. He
would never do.
Other vacancies suggest other evils that may come
of improper appointments. The Lord Wardenship of
the Cinque Ports should remain open till the jurisdic-
tion of tnat ancient office has been reformed; the post
of Constable of the Tower must now, in accordance
with former plans, be placed on proper footing. Need-
ful and proper changes being made, the first of these
appointments may probably fall to the lot of the Prince
Consort, and Walmer Castle become a second Osborne
House.
But this is a matter for the future—at present the
chief need is, that Lord Derby should be reminded' of
the onus now weighing upon him. This shower of pa-
tronage brings its duties equally with its gratifications;
and whilst we concede to him the fullest freedom in the
bestowal of the mere honorary distinctions, he must re-
member the national responsibility undertaken by the
Minister who has to provide for national honour, secu-
rity, and welfare, and to guard against political opposi-
tion and personal disgrace.
(From the Norning Post.)
The Duke of Wellington is no more. One of the
greatest, noblest, and best lives
.that history has ever
been charged with recording for admiration and example
has closed in such calmness, amid universal love and ho-
nour—after such long and steady preparation for death
—as Providence seldom grants to those whom it employs
as the leaders of men, the defenders of nations, the heroes
of the battle field.

The wide space of time daring which this wonderful
mind was allowed to devote itself to the service of its
country, and to brighten our age with great achieve-
ments, has had the effect, among other benefits, of bring-
ing men to one opinion as to the love, the reverence,
and the gratitude, due from Eugland to one than whom
none has ever served;ber with more honesty, wisdom,and
courage—more with his whole heart—with purer mo-
tivos—or with a sounder conscience.
To the great man himself this appreciation was of
little moment. lie looked for no sentence from others
to convince him that ho had done right. The perfect
sagacity which prompted, the decision which nerved, and
the resolution which supported, all hisiactions, sprung
from a perfect clearness of mind, admitting of no after
doubts, as it allowed no previous hesitation.
But, for the friends of the great principles and high
feelings which the Duke of Wellington upheld through-
out his long and unblemished life, it is a matter for
thankfulness that he should have been spared to gain
that general recognition of his true worth and nobleness
—that verdict from the justice of time which the states-
man must too often be content to hope for rather than to
enjoy.

Time was when envy, party hatred, the spirit of mis-
chief, the pen of libel, and the tongue of calumny were
busy enough about a name which, ere its owner left us,
had become the most popular in England, the most
honoured, as well as the most famous, in Europe.
Another very rare and very great privilege enjoyed
by this illustrious person was the unclouded and undis-
turbed state in which, to the very last, he retained the
use of powers such as are rarely bestowed on humanity,
and yet more rarely used with the constant and unrelent-
ing energy which were demanded by a career, including
within its limits the rise of our Indian glory, the mas-
tery of our greatest military epoch, the lea ling and the
responsibility of a war of giants, the chief conduct of
the, settlement of 'Europe, and the first voice in home
statesmanship, during years of fierce struggle, and
through the stages of momentous change.
Not only did the Duke of Wellington retain to the
last'his: peculiar sagacity and steadiness of judgment,
but he was able to the last to employ those qualities in
the service to which they had ever been conscientiously
and loyally devoted—that of his Sovereign and his coun-
try. Removed for many years, as the Duke had been,
from all possibility of personal ambition—untainted by
any possible suspicion of the petty motives of mere
party politics, his part had long bean that of an arbiter
and adviser in the Senate—of a most wise and faithful
servant in his important office.
It is happily nearly forty years since war, on a great
scale, has demanded from this country the exercise of
the unequalled military knowledge and qualities of
command which the great Duke held at her ser-
vice; but we believe that, as regards those partial hos-
tile operations in which England has during that time
been engaged, no steps were taken without the advice
of this big heat living authority.
Snowing how completely this has been the case, it
can scarcely be doubted that the same mature mind
which triumphed at Assaye will have had its weight and
influence on the conduct of what we may hope will be
the closing campaign of that long series of triumphs
which is destined to complete our empire in the East.
If this be so, and if, as we have heard, some of the very
latest' working hours of the great Statesman and Con-
queror were busied with the progress of the Burmese
war, we may feel that the same head and hand that were
active about the foundation of our mighty successes in
India have mainly contributed to that completion
which will probably carry the circle of our
success to the very verge' of the Chinese Empire.
Another tied a very different service of the "Duke's
veteran wisdom will readily occur to most of our
readers. Thay will, without doubt,remember how, en
that memorable 10th of April, when England showed
the world, how little chance democratic madness had
egaiast th% sound sense and strength of her people, all
rnea looked to and trusted in " The Duke ' the re-
fuge of law and order, the safeguard of authority, if by
any strauwcand unio'oked-for turn of events, the name-
less dangers that 'wait on the triumphs of a mob bad
threatened London. Few will fail to call to miud Pew
what wits generally known then, that, under the super-
intendence of the Commander-in. Chief, the military
defence of every quarter and every street. in. London
was organized stile the utmost perfection of detail, in
such a manner, that the unseen force could, .at a mo-
ment's notice, have been brought iuto irresistible action.
We will dwell no more an the
particulars of a great-
ness so fresh in all men's minds, nor will we dilate on a
loss which all will feel who are not incapable of under-
standing standing the Noble and the Good. The Dukehownoa
household word among us. He was among the
truly
and
and possessions of which his country
was
s his very
justly proud. It is true that he bad reachedreacefuny
honours ,
fulness of time—that we lose bins gently a
under every possible condition
early the familiar
the that can console us for
-0118—yet we shall miss fur Inani„ - We' shall feel for
sight and knowledge of " The Duke."
goodness are gone
many a day how much of wisdom
iron" among us. We shall
again to give to any
long it will be before Godwonder for many a day how
vouchsafe and keen—a nation to serve them a mind
s°l, powerfulble of the least doable-
heart so loyal and true—
neB3 of purpose; or the brigihnteelas.i2 deviation from strict
and absolute integrity.

LOADJOHN RUSSELL AND THE BURGH OF STIR-
LING.—.The freedom of this ancient burgh is intended to be
conferred on Lord John Russell, who is residing near Cal-
lender, on Monday next.— Edinburgh Courant.

SPORTING NOTES.
No. CCCVIIL
TO MORROW'S RACES AT DONCASTER,
STOCKWELL'S VICTORY, &c.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN.
B=i-7-The St. Leger is over, and the result has justi-
fied my remarks on it. Oa the 31st of July 1 threw out
my first hints respecting it. announcing it as my opinion
that the race would lie with Dania O'Rourke' Songstress,
and Stockwell; looking to the last-named more par-
ticularly us the best. On the 16:h of August I pro-
mulgated the fact, that Songstress, having damaged her
toot, was out of work; and according to ,my view then
of the case thought her starting very improbable.
In No. 304 of these notes, notwithstanding the
immense favouritism given to Songstress—who
was reported to have recovered from her accident and
doing good work, which was not the case—and the de-
claration of Scott that he was sure of winning the Leger
with one or other of his animals, I still withheld from
the,mare my good opinion of her chance; and, as the
stable seemed so certain of victory, I took Daniel
O'Rourke as being the best of the twain; which notion
was verified by the race of yesterday. My announce.
ment respecting the jockey of Daniel O'Rourke, at the
time opposed by nearly all my contemporaries, was cor-
rect; for Butler did tool Dan, though not to victory.
With respect to Stockwell, I remarked, that he was
" one of the most formidable looking horses in the
entry. He stands sixteen hands, and is a splendidly-
built animal in every respect, with a tremendous stride."
" I am tolerably well convinced that he will be either
first or second;" and I concluded my remarks by stating
that "my verdict must he in favour of Stockwell or
Daniel O'Rourke." I should have gone unreservedly
for Stockwell had it not been that the Milton stable
seemed so very confident of winning.
The race of yesterday was almost as extraordinary as
that of Vindex's the day before. Immediately the start
w
he could make, with Harbinger
and as his
immediate
teAulfdared ntst Great was off at the best
Stockwellpace
he
nu
following, With and Trousseau
ling u
Spontghsetrreesasr.togitithieler
or no change occurred until within fifty yards of the Red
House; here Alfred the Great was defeated, and Har-
binger tock first position, followed; by Stockwell and
instantly afterwards new anythingfor
Daniel, Songstress going
well rushing to the front withalat" took'pursuit; Daniel still in the third position, Harbinger in hot
but easy.plaeo Asltmocoks!
lTrousseau having in the
meantime passed Songstress.
description. Stockwell, Who wearest requires hut little
caught, won in the eesiest style insaa/nneLeire bayfneerawrarlydas
dozen lengths, Harbinger beating
second place; then came Trousseau, Ae' a length for
thenr The time,
Songstress,
and last of all Alfred the Great, beaten
3 min. 21 see, with the exception of the deciding
Heron's
race, in Voltigenr's year, was the slowest since
the
race in 1845.
• Umbriell won the Municipal Stakes so easily:that he
was
immediately afterwards backed for the Dertey at 20 to
1.
Cariboo's race for the Guineas was a completely one.
sided affair, as his opponents were not able to get e-
more
than cantering exercise out of him.
To-morrow's card is most attractive, no less than eight
races and a match being set down for decision.
The North of England Produce Stakes will be carried
to Lord Eglintou's account, Claverhouso walking over.
The Doncaster Stakes of 10 soya, each, with 100,
last mile and a half, will, in all probability, be contested
by not more than three or four, including ono from
Scott's stable, probably Longbow, who will carry off
this stake with the greatest certainty.
The Parkhill Stakes of 50 soya, each, h ft, one mile
six furlongs and 132 yards, will attract to the post Bird-
on-the-Wing, Caloric, Glenluce, or Hirsuta—perhaps
both—Galvanism, Ammonia, and Bay Rosalind. BIRD
ON- THEMING and Mr. Payne's filly will be firs
and second.

A Sweepstakes of 200 soya, each, St. Leger Course, if
Sackbut is not present, will be a walk over for the colt
by Ithariel, out of Gipsy.
The Don Stakes, it contested by Hobble Noble, will
have HARBINGER and him first and second.
As the weights are not out for the Nursery and Town
Plates until this evening, it would be absurd for me to
attempt to advise thereon.
Tho Doncaster Cup, value 300 rove., Cup Course,
about two miles and a half, it is expected, will produce
a first-rate race, Teddington, Kingston, and Stilton being
amongst the starters. I orne it will be a vory.close
finish between these three and Carib)°, if he runs; and
that KINGSTON and TEDDINGTON Will occupy the first
and second places.—l am, Sir, fac.,
Sept. 16, THE SPIRIT OF THE TURF.

SPORTING INTELLIGENCE.
DONCASTER RACES.
DONASTER, TUESDAY NIGHT, 12 O'CLCCIC.
In our report sent from the course we had only time
o refer briefly to the attendance; this, as we intimated,
was fully up to the numerical average of the first day,
the stand being as well filled as we have seen it on many
St. Leger days, and the receipts exceeding last year by
about 300/, being the largest ever known. In some re-
spects, however, there was an obvious falling off; the
only ladies in the stewards' stand were Mrs. Lumley and
Mrs. Milner, and the gathering of the aristocracy was
small beyond precedent. We have nothing to speak of
in the shape of alteration or improvement on the course;
the offices are still miserably deficient, and the promised
accommodation for the press has yet to be provided; we
are bound, however, to compliment Mt. De Chesnel, the
superintendent of the Electric Telegraph_ Company, on
the success of his arrangements for the transmission of
messages from the course. The instruments, by per-
mission of the corporation, are placed in the ground
floor of the round stand—until within a few years used
for weighing, &c.—within a few feet of the judge's chair,
so that the issue of most of the races this afternoon were
known in London, and other distant places, before the
winning horse. had returned to the enclosure! Two or
three clerks were kept in full employ throughout the
afternoon.
The betting-room has been. crowded to excess this
evening, but business was never known to be so doll.
Songstress, however, was in great and general demand,
and the outlay so liberal, that at the close 6 to 4 was the
highest offer against her. Very little was said or done
about Stockwell, Daniel O'Rourke or Harbinger, but
Trousseau was strangely knocked about, rallying, how-
ever, near 'the close from 100 to 6 to 10 to 1.
WEDNESDAY'S RACES.
Match; 200, h ft.
Red-house in.
Lord Clifden's Pelien, 2 yrs, Bst 71b
(F. Butler) 1
Lord Glasgow's oh fby Don John, Est 131b(Charlton) 2
Betting-3 to lon Pelion. Pelion won very easily
by a length. Run in 1 min. 12 sec.
The St. Leger Stakes of 25 sous. each, for three yrs
Bst 21b; the second to old; colts, Bst 71b; fillies,
re-
ceive 100 sovs. out of the stakes; the winner to pay
100 soya. towards expenses; 25 sovs. for the judge,
and 25 for the starter. St. Leger course. (116 Subs.)
Lord Exeter's Stockwell (Norman) 1
The Duke of Richmond's Harbinger (Flatman) 2
Mr. Bowes's Daniel O'Rourke . (F. Butler) 3
Mr. Pedley's Trousseau .................. (Templeman) 4
Mr. J. Scott's Songstress (A. Day) 5
Mr. Dancombe's Alfred the Great (Basham) 6
Batting at Starting-7 to 4 agst Stockwell, sto 2 agst
Daniel O'Rourke, 3 to 1 agst Songstress, 7 to 1 agst
Harbinger, and 10 to 1 apt Trousseau.
The above prices, which are made up to the time of
starting, varied in several instances from the quotations
in the town. At one time, owing to a report that she
was lame, Songstress declined to 5 to 2 and 3 to 1, and
was quite friendless, Stockwell, on her decline, rising 7
to 2, Daniel O'Rourke to 3 to 1, and Harbinger to 6 to
1. About half an hour before the room was closed:a
strong reaction took place, Songstress rising to 2 to I,i
taken freely, and having a decided call of Lord Exeter's
horse; Daniel O'Rourke receded to 7 to 2, but Harbinger
remained steady at 6to 1. The start took place
a few minutes before three, Alfred the Great jaeanin,
off with a decided lead, followed in rotation, and'
at
wide intervals, by Harbinger and Stockwell, Scott's two
next nearly abreast; the pace as good as Alf
red the
Great could make it. No change whatever took place
Great was
until near the Red•honse, where Alfred the
joined by Harbinger and Stockwell, and
immediately
afterwards gave way. Harbinger then
en Showed
but was headed in a few strides by Stockwell,
in front,
Stockwell, who
went on by himself, and won in a
Harbinger beating Daniel canter by ten lengths,
3 min. 21 sec. outko by a length. Time,
The Municipal Stakes of 200 S v
old; colts, Bst 71b; 011ies• each, for two yrs
s horse
to save his stake. Re -b, Sat 41b; the second
ouse
Lord Derby's Umbriel (F. BO.' ii,r)
2
(Ten39.t
Mr. Payne's Warwhoop ..(Flatman)
Mr. W. H. Brookes' Incense- n) 3
Lord Glasgow's Deubl J• elarson) 4
5 to C
Betting— etbong ............ ( • and
on Umbriel, sto 2 vast lacenge ,
3to 1 agst Donblethong 7 nif up the
Warwhoop made th(7.rnnning until a"---wßyite, who
stand-railing, when he was joined by the favourite,
easily by er
quitted him ajew strides from home, and w
a length. Run in I min. 14'4".
04; for three yrs olsi
Her Majesty's Plato of 100 gulQnfeS sie and aged, 9st
7st; four, Bst 51b; five, Bst
2b. Cup Comae.
..... .(Flatman) 1
Mr. Greville's Cariboo,
5 aYfird Trenuburd (J. Manion) 2
Mr. R.E.Oliver'sSirßowl (Charlton) 3
3 yrs
by 'neon,
Mr. C. Msrson A c
Mr. B. Eddison's "(Simpson) 0
4 yrs
Wasp, „ 5
'a3 Sir Ghtir e yrs (Bumby) 0
Mr. H. R°*;-- <ni Recommendation, 3 yrs --(Mishaps) 0
• Mr. Morris s Beco
Captain Scott's Allegro, yrs . Osborne) 0
Betting-5 to
2 on Cariboo. The race was scarcely
.
Cariboo waiting on Sir Charles and Sir
:ever in doubt, first three-quarters
d Trenchard the
Rowlan
thusmsktng
.t of the running and wi
nning n canter
Ran in 4 min., 54 rec.
by Aix leng
The Doncaster Plate of 10 soya. each, h ft (handicep),
with 70 added, for three yrs old and upwards; the
second to save his stake. Red-house in.
mr. E. Phillips's Truth, 4 yrs, Bst 81b (Templeman) 1
air. Armstrong's Sabra, 3 yrs, sst 21b 2
Mr. Worthington's Rachetes, sst Sib --(Carroll) 3
Mr. J. M. Stanley's Clincher, 5 yrs, Bst 81b (A. Day) 0
,Mr. Jones's Prime Minister, Bst Sib ...(W. Sharpe) 0
Lord J. Scott's Turnus, 6 yrs, Bst 71b (Whitehouse) 0
Lord Derby's Croupier, 4 yrs, Bst 41b ...(Flatman) 0
Lord E7tinton's Claverhouse, 3 yrs, Est 121 b (Wells) 0
Mr. G. Osboree's Lady Agnes, 7st (J.
Osborne) 0
Lord Chesterfield's Senorita, 3 yrs, Est 411) (A.shtt In
Mr. Shepberdson's f Ithuriel. sst 21b ...... (Batt 00
Mr. Marson's Rebecca colt, sst 21b (F. Mass,,, -s• 0
Betting-2 to 1 agat Truth, 4to 1 agst Senorita,h) lOO
to 15 agst Primo Minister, 100 to 15 ugst h t oriel filly,
and 8 to 1 agat Turnus.
Won by a length; two lengths between second and
third. Run in 1 min. 7 see.
Seecpstakks of 10 sovs. each, h ft, and 50 added for
two sirs old, 7st; three, 9st; fillies and -geldings al-
lowed 31b. The second saves his stake. Red House
in. (14 Subs.)
Mr. Merry's b c Llinbton, 2 era
(J. Osborne) I
Mr. S. Hewke's bf by Melbource, 2 yrs; (Hiatt) 2