The Sun.
London, England, 1863-09-09 00:00:00

SHIPPING—This Day.

LONDON, Sept. 9.—Wind this day at noon—South-
Westerly; light breeze, and cloudy weather, with rain
during the morning.

FALMOUTH, Sept. 9.—Wind N.W.—Arrived—Pieter,
from Akyab for Liverpool; Trio, from Cochin; Carolina,
from Havannah.

BELFAST, Sept, 7.--Wind N.W.--Arrived—Handy,
from Sulina.

RAMSGALE, Sept. 7.--. Wind S.W.—Arrived—Helena,
from Stockholm for Lisbon, assisted in here leaky, and is
discharging her cargo.
PORTSMOUTH, Sept. B.—Wind S.W.—Arrived—Maria
Johanna, from London for Cnrdiff and Buenos Ayres ;
Enable, from Gefle for Bilboa.
CLYRE, Sept. B.—Wind S.W.—Sailed—The Channel
Fleet. for Belfast.

BY ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH.
SOUTHAMPTON, Wednesday Morning.
Arrived—Havre, steamer, from Havre; Purveyor, from
Swanage; Courier, steamer, from Jersey.
Sailed—Queen, for Plymouth; Antelope, for Cardiff,
BY MAGNETIC TELEGRAPH.
GRAVESEND, Wednesday Morning.
Arrived, Sept. B—Hannah Andrews, from Stettin ; Frau
Marie, from Taganrog; John Bruster, from Prince Ed-
ward's Island.
Arrived, Sept. 9—Elkin, from Wykobing ; Pole Star,
from Calcutta; Albert, from Quebec; Four Ststers, from
Antwerp ; D. W. Pickering, from Pomeron ; Mellona, from
Guernsey; Springbok, from Stanbey ; Margaret, from
Malmo; Rover, from Guernsey; Eliza, from Mazagan;
Sarah King, from Guernsey.
DEAL, Wednesday Morning.
Anchored—Minister, from Loudon, for Sonswald ; John
Exeter, from north, for west.

IA FRENCH WATERING PLACE.—It looks a
comical kind of decency to English eyes. The men
are dressed in a sort of trowsers and jersey all in one, which
differs from ordinary garments of that description chiefly
in being much toe short in the legs and arms. This ar-
rangement seems to be a compromise between the Govern-
ment's appreciation of decency and the natural human de-
sire to be as naked as possible in the water. But, to a
stranger, it looks as if all the male population of the place
had been seized with a sudden fancy for dressing in the
clothes of their little boys. But they are not the oddest
figures of the scene. The Government having ascertained
the minimum of clothing that is respectable for men,
appears to have come, by a kind of mechanical logic, to
the conclusion that a similar quantity is abundant for
women. The result is, that the beach is peopled with a
number of nondescript-looking figures, bearing much the
appearance of short, ill-made men, scantily dressed in cho-
colate-coloured serge—a sort of forked radish turned brown
from keeping—which it requires some effort of reasoning,
on the part of people who are not habituated to this Para-
disaical innocence of costume, to believe may possibly be
ladies. All these figures wander about in the aimless dila-
tory way
which appears to be an integral portion of the ,
amusement. Some aro approaching the water with lazy
steps, wondering whether it is not rather cold, end, in the
agonies of deliberation, displaying the beauties of their cos-
tume to considerable advantage. Others, who have had
A which theych cling mayto relieve
their
their dip, are picking their steps wearily over the shingle,
looking in vain for wheretheeabase
garments
themselves of the dripping
figures with a tenacity which gives rather a statuesque
effect. All this time, by way of contrast, the beach is full
of non-bathers—women dressed as only French women can
dress—who are come to enjoy the epectacle,—Saturday
ACP*OI4/.

&
40 it
(4111374,11 Tat

HER MAJESTY.

In accordance with Admiralty instructions the
Fairy, steatiz-tender to the Victoria and Albert, left
Woolwich harboor yesterday, and took up moorings
at Greenhithe, to bi; in readiness to convey her
Majesty and the royal Amity and suite from tho
royal yacht to the Royal Ai•Renal-pier, where her
Majesty will disembark on Thursday, and proceed
from Woolwich to Windsor. In consequence of the
proceedings taken by the War Department with
reference to the orders issued by the heads of de-
partments at the Royal Arsenal on her Majesty's
recent embarkation, the mistake will not be re-
peated on this occasion, and it is stated that no
deviation will be made from the ordinary regula-
tions as to the admission of visitors—viz., the mili-
tary and those provided with War-office tickets will
not be excluded from the establishment, although
the line of route and the approaches to the pier will
be strictly kept by a strong body of the dockyard
and the It division of police.

Prince Napoleon was, a few days since, cruising
off the Isle of Wight in his yacht.
His Imperial Highness and the Princess Clotilde
are going to Lisbon, in order to be there during the ae•
couchement of the Queen of Portugal.
His Excellency Count Nesselrode has arrived at
Maurigy's Hotel from Paris.

The Marquis of Bristol and the Ladies Hervey
have arrived at Homburg from Dresden. The noble mar-
quis and daughters are expected home towards the close of
the month.

The Countess (Dowager) of Jersey is expected to
arrive in town to-day from Osterley Park, near Southall.

The Earl and Countess Stanhope have arrived at
the Hotel Mirabeau, Pads, on their way to Switzerland.

Lord and Lady Proby, Lord and Lady Kenyon,
Sir Erskine and Lady Perry and family, Lady S, Lindsay,
and Lady Stannue are among the English visitors assembled
at Baden-Baden,

Lord and Lady Stanley of Alderley ana Hon.
Misses Stanley left town on Monday for the family seat in
Cheshire.

Mr. and Lady Selina Bidwell have arrived at
Maurigy's Hotel from Deal Castle.

Sir William C. and Lady Georgiana Codrington
have arrived in town expressly to attend the wedding of
Lord Londesborough and Lady Edith Somerset to-morrow•

The youthful Duke of Hamilton is said to be
about to enter Christ Church, Oxford, to complete 1113
education.

THE BLESSED WORDS OF SCRIPTURE.—Those
blessed words it is full of, words that in our hours
of ease, or biblical criticism, pass over our mind like some
drowsy chime; but in the bitter day of anguish and be-
reavement, when the body is racked, the soul darkened,
shine out like stars to the mariner ; seem then first to swell
to their real size and meaning, and come to writhing mor-
tals like pitying seraphim, divinity on their faces and heat
ing on their wings.—Charles Reade's "Very Bard Cash."
A YEAR'S RETRENCHMENT.—Addressing a meet'
ing of his constituents, at Aberdeen, the other day,
Colonel Sykes rehearsed the achievements of himself and
his fellow "economists" during the past session. "
Williams, the member for Lambeth," he said, " moved, on
the vote for 148,000 men for the army, that, taking into
account that we have the volunteers, the militia, the en-
rolled pensioners, and the yeomanry all available, 10,000
men should be Struck off. But how many supported
him ? Just 19. That is the proportion we generally ob-
tain—for lam always on that side. (Hear, and a laugh.)
We had a good many divisions of that kind, and in fact the
result is the same, except by accident. Again, there was
the proposal of Mr. Dodson, a moderate man, to place the
diplomatic service money under the control of the House of
Commons. Well, he got sixty-five to assist him in what
would appear certainly to be an absolutely necessary
measure, against 136. Now, I come to a miracle—(a
laugh)—we succeeded in one motion of this kind. M
Constantinople, the house of our Minister had been
charged in the estimate £2,225 for repairs (annual, mark
you), besides a charge of £lOO per annum for an archi.'
tect—a permanent charge, the architect being attached
to the house. (Laughter.) I told Mr. Cowper—` If Pti,
dismiss the architect, it will save ou the £2,225 in repairs.
(Laughter.) I did not intend to carry the matter forward
bat Lord It. Cecil rose on the Opposition side, and Moved
the reduction of the vote by the amount of the architect's
salary, and was carried. (Laughter, and hear, hear.')
Well, here was a reduction of £4OO per annum out of a total
expenditure of £69,302,008. That is the amount you spent
last year, and all we could do in the House of Commons
was to reduce it by £4,000 in the miraculous circumstances
I have mentioned." (Laughter.)
THE RAISING OF HOLBORN VALLEY.—There

are two plans before the public by which this may
be accomplished. One involves the demolition of a large
amount of property in Holborn, Skinner-street, Farring-
don-street, King-street, and adjacent thoroughfares, for the
purpose of raising the general level of the roadway
According to this plan, instead of two steep hills, there will
be four m:;derate inclines, running north and south, and
east and west. This will be a resolution of levels, and
should the gradients, east and west,' be made easy enough
for the heavy traffic that will continue to run in those
directions, this plan will be the most thorough that could
be devised. Mr. Bunning is the author of the scheme-
The other proposes to throw a viaduct over the valleYt
towards the north side, thus avoiding an extensive
destruction of property, and providing a roadway
on a dead level from east to west. There will also be, as
at present, a level road from north to south, but there will
be the great disadvantage of the present inclines out of the
valley from Farringdon-street, &e., and the Metropolitan
Railway Station to Holborn and Skinner-street. This
plan was advocated, though not originated, by Mr. Marra-
ble, the late architect to the Metropolitan Board of Workßs
and it would be the cheaper of the two. We have thus two
plans before us emanating from two great municipal autho-
rities of this metropolis. The responsibility of carrying out

this indispensable improvement has been thrown by Par-
liament upon the Corporation, and we leave to its wisdom
and experience the selection of the most permanent and
practically-useful scheme.—City Press,
EPITOME OF A FRENCH NOVEL.—One of the
stories of the younger Dumas, which has long
enjoyed a supreme popularity among the artists and stu-
dents of Paris : and the drift of which is thus described by
a Saturday Reviewer :—Antonine, a beautiful girl, Wl3°
gives her name to the book, is the daughter of a physician.
Edward, or Arthur, or Alphonse—we forget which—catches
a glimpse of her ancle one muddy day in the Rue de Rivoli,
and forthwith tumbles into a frantic ecstacy of love. ll°
cannot eat, nor sleep, nor read. He is consumed with
fever—he raves all day and cries all night—he looks
ghastly; est soufrant," which seems to be the appro-
priate phrase for the climax of this kind of agony. Alter
a time he discovers the residence of Antonine's father, am&,,
calls upon him on the pretence of seeking his professional
advice. Antonine has been peeping through the parlour
blinds, and on his departure asks her father if the young
man is ill. "My child," is the reply, " this day twelve
months this young man will be dead." Antonine, who is
deeply in love with Edward or Alphonse, swoons away al
this, while the physician weeps copiously. It appears, how"
ever, that there is a certain system for curing consumption,
which is Edward's malady ; but it is one requiring tile
most tender and incessant vigilance on the part of the
nurse. The rest follows. Antonine devotes herself to his
cure, and without delay marries the consumptive suitor.
Then the action of the story really begins. The reader
will be at no loss to imagine the situation, and the elaborate
and minute expansim which it will receive at the hands of
the author of "La Dame aux Camelias," and "La Dame
aux Perles." Two young lovers in a state of frantic mu-
tual passion, heightened by the consciousness that their
fiery bliss may be quenched within twelve months,
and one of them supposed to be slowly wasting away in
consumption—what more could be desired by any writer or
reader of this school of fiction ? The medical details, nosy
so indispensable alike to the boudoirs of the Chan3Po
Elymies and the dirty garrets of the Quartier Latin, are
car efully enumerated. We may leave our readers to co'
lecture the quantity of blood-spitting and the amount of
passionate raving, and the loathsome artistic product which
results from their combined representation. Suffice it to
say that this is protracted through a whole volume, and
that at last Edward is carried safely through the crises by
means of the heroic devotion of Antonine. This is the end
of the story proper, but the sting lies in "
reader is supposed to be worked up to a tremendous pitch
of sympathy with the sufferings of Ed ward and Antonine,
and to be left happy in the contemplation of their future
bliss, when his dream is dispelled in some such style (we
quote from memory) as the following :—" Reader, do 3'og:,
really want me to tell yon what became of them ? I would
much rather Lave it unknown. It would be better for you
perhaps, not to know. But, after all, art is truth, &c.,
Well, Edward is filling some small post in a provincial
town, and has grown fat. He is now engaged in an in-
trigue with the with of the Prefect. Antonine knows all
about it, and laughs heartily." his difficult to recall err
thing more deeply cynical than' the laugh with which We
are dismissed. The author plainly flings his moral at
mankind as the sum and ccnclusion of all human philo•
sophy, and implies that anybody who thinks otherwise
must either be a romantic young fool or a hypocritical
cld one. _ -

A Rouen journal, in giving an account of a
banquet of the Orpheenists, mentions among the curiosities
of the bill of fare, Creitons d'Ananas a la Verdi, Plorobieres
SlaC6eS a la Auber, and rain de volailles a la Rceeini,