The Sun.
London, England, 1861-04-29 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, MONDAY EVENING, APRIL 29, 1861

Europe could not note without emotion
that the sword of GARIBALDI had no sooner
stricken the chains of despotism off the Neapolitan
population than it was calmly sheathed, while
GARIBALDI himself escaped from the toils and
responsibilities of a supreme dictatorship to recruit
his health at Caprera, in his little Island Hermi-
tage. And what alone hurried him back even-
tually upon the public scene was—we are all
vividly conscious of this also—not any impulse
whatever of personal ambition, not any incentive
at all of individual vanity, but that strong, all-
mastering, fraternal sympathy that bound him in
life and death to his companions in arms,
officers and men, his heroic folio were, the Geri-
baldians. On their behalf and in the interests of
the Italian peninsula, GARIBALDI tore himself
reluctantly from his retirement in Caprera, and
hastening to Turin, there, in the Legislative Cham-
ber, ascended the tribune, soldier though he is,
orator though he is not, essentially a man of acts
rather than a man of words either spoken or written,
ascended the tribune and there—speaking " the
truth, the whole truth, and (as he believed it)
nothing but the truth" right—out, made a clean
breast of it in the presence andliearing of his fellow
legislators, the assembled Italian representatives.
The Ministry were infuriated, the Chief Minister
of all (CATouR) was especially infuriated. The
Assembly was in a tumult. The President rang
his bell, put on his hat, suspended the sittings, and,
even when the business of the Legislature was
resumed, satisfied his conscience as Speaker of
the Italian House of Commons by energetically
reprimanding and calling to order—GARIBALDI !
Yet GARIBALDI still spoke plainly—retracted no-
thing—insisted upon the necessity of doing justice
to his followers, maintained the absolute need there
is, a need since admitted and recognized, for
calling out a new and yet grander Italian armament.
Since then the Soldier of Italy has conversed
with the SOVEREIGN. And the latter has to the
delight of—it would be difficult to say how
many—millions both in and out of the Italian
peninsula, brought CAVOUR and CIALDINI in turn
amicably face to face with GARIBALDI. The re-
conciliation of these men is better for the interests
of the popular cause in Italy than the calling out
of a supplementary 50,000 strong. It is so re-
garded in Italy. It is so looked upon far and wide
through Christendom. And now that the recon-
ciliation we are alluding to is glanced back at, how-
ever casually—it cannot but be felt that the one
man, whose dignity has been preserved throughout,
in point of fact, is the very one whose self-respect
was thought by some to have been so often
jeopardised in'the course of these transactions.
GARIBALDI has carried his point—he has
yielded nothing. He has been insisting simply
upon justice for his friends and companions. That
justice, thanks to his interposition in their favour,
will no longer be denied to them. He has been
pleading in behalf of the only reasonable course
lying open before those who wish well in earnest
to the cause for which GARIBALDI has been him-
self so long and so heroically fighting. And all
the while he still looks with horror to the remem-
brance of that execrable yielding up to France of
Nice and Savoy, with their live stock, in the shape
of two million Nizzards and Savoyards.

No doubt can now remain that the massacre of
he Poles, at Warsaw, was preconcerted—pre-
arranged deliberately by a savage and ruthless
Governor, who refused to listen even to the re-
monstrances of the brave generals whom he ordered
to perform his bloody behests. It is difficult also,
now, not to father this atrocity upon the CZAR
himself, slow as we were to believe that the eman-
cipator of his own serfs could be the willing
murderer of unarmed Poles peacefully asking for
the most obvious rights. All the efforts
of Russia to denationalise the Poles have utterly
failed. The Poles, though speaking a language
very similar to the Russian; both languages being
mutually intelligible dialects of the Sclavonic, will
adhere to their own tongue ; schools have been
worked in vain against the national feeling;
and Russia still has no better means to extort sub-
mission than those of the last century and the
former part of the present one—the means by which
Austria secures obedience in Venetia.
A letter from Posen gives details of the massacre
which have the aspect of truth. It appears that
the Russian soldiers who reside in Warsaw, 22,000
in number, soon acquire a friendly feeling towards
the Poles. GORTSCHAKOFF dared not, therefore,
Order them at first to fire on the unarmed petitioners
who desired to send, through him, their petitions
to the CZAR. He temporized, he promised liberally,
till he had gathered together a large number
of strange Russian soldiers, and with these he
soon went to work. It is now certain that not only
did some of his higher officers remonstrate, but
that one blew his brains out rather than obey
orders, and that three were afterwards shot by
order of court-martial for not killing unarmed
men and Women.

Europe has now to consider how it shall hence-
forth regard the Czar ALEXANDER 11. Warsaw
seems to have proved again the truth of NAPO-
LEON'S saying, " That a Russian was but a Tartar
with a varnish of European civilisation—scratch a
Russian and you'll find the Tartar beneath."
A Tartar, indeed! could any monarch be found
in civilised Europe to plan the atrocity of the Bth
in Poland ? The Hapsburgs are perhaps the only
other rulers capable of such blood-chilling crimes.
Tbey, like the Romanoffs, regard treachery and
massacre of the unarmed as the legitimate weapons
of royalty against liberty. The Russian Czar must,
we fear, be now remitted to the long list of Imperial
wretches who have been, not wolves, but tigers in
sheep's clothing—who have talked of mildness
while washing their hands in innocent and noble
blood

Viscountess Palmerston had an assembly on
Saturday evening at Cambridge House.
The Earl and Countess of Derby entertained at
dinner on Saturday evening the Marquis of Hartington,
the Earl and Countess of Tankerville, the Earl Annesley,
Viscount and Viscountess Newport, Lord and Lady Skel-
mersdale, Sir Robert Peel, M.P., and Lady Emily Peel,
Colonel the Hon. P. W. and Lady Emma Talbot, and
Lord Stanley.
Viscount Milton left town on Friday for Liver-
pool, on his way to America.
issuEmxmcoenl leedn
tcoy
Tt
uhrei t
oanl i aanccAo
uf innt i
os
ft etrheh aa a srurndi
ndge. en
ill
beeHn
ness of his mother. His Excellency left town on Saturday
evening.
CRYSTAL PALACE.—The Exeter Hall offices ill
be kept open until eight o'clock this evening for the isswue
of tickets for the great festival performance of the Creation
on Wednesday next, the Ist of May.
ALMACK'S.—The first ball of the first subscription
of these fashionable reunions will take place at Willis's
Rooms on Thursday next, when several of the ladies
atronesses' have arranged to be present with large parties
of friends. A brilliant ball is fully anticipated.
THE SWISS SINGERS.--" The Schweizer Sanger,'
as they designate themselves, are becoming very popular
at St. James's Hall; 'there is a freshness and spirit about
their singing that is truly charming, and the part songs of
Kucken, Roth, and the national Swiss melodies, are given
with a richness of harmony, and striking effect in modula-
tion, that is highly pleasing. Madame Decker's deep con-
tralto notes are quite a marvel in female vocalisation, and
Mdlle. Keller's soprano voice is nct only excellent in quality,
but managed with so much ability as to elicit frequent
applause. Madlle. Claussen's lively and humorous songs
are particularly attractive, and her introduction of an Eng-
lish song, " The Captain," takes the fancy of the audience
greatly, being always enoored. The entertainment is one
that well merits a visit,

LATEST NE WS.

AMERICA.

QUEENSTOWN, SUNDAY,

The Royal mail steamship America, Captain
M'Cauley, with dates from Boston to the 17th, and
Halifax the 19th inst., arrived here at 1 a.m. to-
day. She brings 74 passengers and 13,800 dols. in
specie, for Havre.

The America landed the Irish and a portion of
the English mails, &c., and proceeded at 1.20 a.m.,
all well.

NEW YORK, APRIL 16.
Major Anderson and his men left Charleston on
the 15th, in the steamer Baltic, for New York.
Extensive preparations are being made for the
defence of Washington.

President Lincoln's call for troops has been en-
thusiastically responded to by the Northern States.
The New York Legislature has voted 30,000 men
and 3,000,000 dole.

'of erred at Of. 65c., are now at 68f. 75c. Railway
Shares also firm.
The following were the last quotations :-
41 per per Cents ... 95 50 Credit F oncier 930
Do end month.... Belgian 41 —
3 per Cents ...... 68 70 j Piedmontese Fives 74 30
Do. end month.... 68 70 !Roman
Bank Shares .. 2885 ' Austrian
Credit Mobilier.... 682 50 Spanish Threes 4B 25
Do. Account 635 Home Debt ...... 47 75
RAILWAYS.

Cash. Account.
Orleans
Northern
New ditto
Lyons and Mediterranean 958 75 .. 960
Geneva 395
Southern
Western
Eastern
Sardinian
Austrian
Lombard

W. S. WOODIN,

Lablaehe, and a snortle like incipient apoplexy,
when, in a twinkling, he is perhaps bowing to his
audience, in propria persona, over the moveable
lid of one of his desk cabinets, adjusting bis white
cravat, or arranging his own hair, or buttoning one
of his white kid gloves, with the most amazingly
serene and imperturbable of countenances. Hardly
has he announced in half a dozen words the inter-
view he has had with another wayfarer in life, when
again, in a twinkling, he is airing a new costume,
in the full glare of the footlights—arrayed from
top to toe as a lady of the last century, arrayed in
fact from the glossy braid of her tresses to the
dainty point of her satin slipper in the utmost
amplitude and delicacy of (we may fairly use the
phrase in this age of steel hoops and crinoline) her
feminine "surroundings." Here in literal truth, in
the person of Mr. Woodin, we have realised before
our gaze that well-known couplet in Dryden's
" Absolom and Achitophel"—
"4 man so various that he seemed to be
Not ONE but all mankind's cpitoms !"
And he is not merely in the strictest sense of the
words "A Host in himself"--as the giver of these
Entertainments. He is more than that—he is him-
self A whole Company into the bargain. Yet
though he is in this manner, as we have said, him-
self a whole Company—Heavy Father, Walking
Gentleman, Duenna, Lover (of either sex), and so
forth—he could not possibly (remembering the
swiftness of his changes), there is, at any rate, this
to be said, he could not possibly complete the Com-
pany by being—Prompter. Supposing Sophocles
again to be in the ascendant amongst us, or any
other of the Greek Tragedians—we all remember
" Antigone" and the Vandenhoffs—we would
earnestly recommend the selection of Mr.
Woodin as—the Chorus. Speaking to us as he
does in so many voices, appearing before us as he
does in so many shapes, one might almost be
bewildered at last into the notion that his must
be some disembodied spirits (" high spirits," surely)
entering at pleasure into the semblance of certain
individualities ; one might occasionally, we say, be
bewildered into this notion, so confused is our
recollection of his identity—but that there he is
repeatedly " himself again" like Richard--the
genuine Simon Pure in the snow-white linen, the
dress coat and the black broad-cloth "continua-
tions." Yet, while admitting him (solely by reason
of these perpetual reminders of his identity) to be
in point of fact, like the rest of us, an actual Noun
Substantive—we must insist upon it, at any rate,
that if he is a Noun at all he must certainly be a
Noun of Multitude—signifying many. Never was
the truth of Shakspere's philosophic summary of
human life more signally verified than in Woodin
that comprehensive assertion that—
" ONE MAN his time plays many parts."
While the application of the line may be here still
further emphasised by avowing, in regard to Mr,
Woodin's rapidity of impersonation, that there is
but " one man" who " in his time" [the whole enter-
tainment, as we have remarked occupies but two hours
altogether] " plays (so) many parts." And these
the mere " Characters " represented by Mr. Woodin
in his entertainment—how are they even to be here
passing7y enumerated ? Dividing the body of Lon-
don Life adroitly, with a few trenchant syllables
into Four Quarters—passing through Spring with
its Fashion able Marriages, Public Dinners and Derby
Day; through Summer with its Excursionists;
through Autumn with its Tourists ; through Winter
with its Entertainments—who, and what, and where
are not the chosen Characters? Snuffy old Mrs.
Poppies, the Pew Opener, with her benedictions
upon the bride and bridegroom, interrupted by an
incongruous growl over her douceur —" only a beg-
garly half-crowned." Tom Dibbs, the little shriek-
ing blackguard charity boy, all grin and muffin-cap
—scared away the instant afterwards by the stupen-
dous Goldknot, the very Beadle of Beadledom. sir.
Bobbles, the delightful Secretary of the Great Um-
brella Lending Association—cheering himself on as
he reads the report for the last twelvemonth by
interpolated shouts of Rear ! Hear! from the
depths of his neckcloth. As to the Epsom
Downs on Derby Day—Mr. Woodin seems to crowd
himself off the stage altogether, so that we lose
sight of him entiroly for u while—he seems abso-
lutely to crowd himself off the stage with—red-
coated Flying Jack, the vender of the c'rect card,
the whiskered Betting Gentleman, the black-haired,
scarlet-cloaked Gipsy Fortune-teller, and the
Ticket eef-Leave-looking Thimble Rigger, who in
the midst of his hoarse patter bobs himself, table, thine-
hies, pea and all out of existence, on catching sight
of the coming—" Police." Added to these and
a swarm of others—the dirty cokernut-seller, the
clean capped and aproned gingerbread-seller, the
owner (or shall we say the nephew) of Aunt Sally,
the Veiled (bonvivant) Mordekana of the Borouche,
the Tiddy Toddy tooler of the chaise and pair, with
dear old Mrs. Aldgate Pump of the dilapidated
Dogcart, and that wonderful spangled india
rubber acrobat Herr Jacobo Johnsonini. Have we
not, moreover, immediately afterwards brought
before us, at full length and in startling contrast to
each other, that garrulous old pragmatic Mr.
Rodney Hook, the meditative angler "with weak
nerves and strong objections," eagerly in quest of
quiet and the picturesque—and, haunting his foot-
step, literally dogging his footsteps, Thomas
Gubbins, the Ostler, ever scratching that oakum
head of his, that looks as if it wanted
grooming with a currycomb, seeking a purchaser
for a tidy dawg," at something, of course, like " a
tidy price," visibly bringing with him about his
frowzy dress the strongest flavour of stableyard
ammonia. Hardly has Gubbins done scratching his
shock-head with the haft of the clasp-knife with
which he is carving his peripatetic dinner, while
talking to us in appropriate
.growls about his
"dawg," when he (the Ostler of the Red Lion) is
summarily replaced by the buxom Landlady of the
same. Widow Whimperley, to wit : with her pre-
posterous reminiscence of having had the question
popped to her on the top of the Monument, and
with those decoying glances of hers so plainly ask-
ing to have it popped again, that they must in-
fallibly have thrown old Mr. Weller, by the mere
sense of his peril, into a cold and profuse perspira-
tion. Among the happiest of Mr. Woodin's kit-cat
portraits from the life, those ingenious half-lengths
suddenly produced from the recesses of his Cabinet
of Curiosities, commend us to Mr. Winelees, the
semi-inebriated gentleman, who is in such dire and
lengthened confusion about his hat—to Deborah
Gunn, the boisterous old bathing woman—and to
Sampson Stentor, the town crier, bawling out his
incoherent announcements with the most ludicrous
contempt for punctuation. As for the more finished
and more carefully elaborated delineations
—don't we all know perfectly well that heavy
sg ell, Mr. Halcyon Higgins, possessor of a yacht
and hater of all " bawt her," who smokes a meer-
schaum (we are intimate with the very aroma of his
cavendish), and who possesses an invaluable nauti-
cal auxiliary in the dapper form of Jones, the
Skipper ? As to Jones himself, can't he spin a yarn
with the best of them, and dance a hornpipe with
the agility of a sea harlequin! Our Polyphonist's all,
skill in the articulation ofpatois, by the way, is not Would I.e.
the least surprising of his many gifts es a deline-
ator of the types of national character. Instance
his Cornish miner, with his wonderful subterranean METEL
sort of ballad chant—his Welch girl with her pretty This Day, guttural ditty—his flaxen-headed countrybumpkin, t-,etween 8 and' B. E
9
with his preliminary jabber about the fineness of a.m.
the "marring this flaming," and le:s extraordi-
rigmarole of a song in the broadest dialect of Dor• Aberd,
Leith
setshire. Witness, moreover, the dry humour of A;rdwro;
Sandy M`Phaster, the Scotchman, and the racy D'ifetici
,un and roystering blarney of Barney O'Brien, the Gain
Irish car-driver. Another while—whew ! as at 'etavrbri-°)
the shrill call of the scene-shifter's whistle—we are r-;lleleenr,
taken back a whole hundred years at a bound, from Yr arm'
1861 to 1761—our agile Proteus inc ,mprehensiOlv L'overrn
standing before us—no longer Mr. liroodin, but my t:o`),Tai,
Lady Frances Foresight, a belle (of that far-off Pleme
opoch) decidedly worth iinging—radiant in bro- Penza
caded silks and hooped petticoats and jewelled -
stomacher, in lappets and farthingale—her delicate
tresses powdered, and her blooming cheek perfected
with that last poignant touch of grace in those
days, the " beauty spot" so essential hs an adjunct
in the toilettes of our great-great-grandmothers.
Hew Mr. Woodin surpasses himself in the cloy-
ing; scenes of his neiv entertainment those
only can understand who have themselves witnessed

I with their own eyes and ears his really amazing
performance of three characters simultaneous? Y ,
I. A sectional view of two separate boxes in a London
eating—house, revealing to the spcetatot that meek
Mr. Shrink and that outrageous Mr. Ruffles, thrust
ing their heads forward turn by turn in such rapid
alternation (they are supposed to be seated back to•
back) that they actually do really appear at times
to be before the audience (as we have said) simul-
taneously. The mediating voice of the waiter being
heard, moreover, at rapid intervals all through
their long sustained and laughter-moving catteu.l
tion. To complete the evening's entertainuten
triumphantly, have we not those marvellous
glimpses of other popular entertainments latterli
the rage in London—glimpses visible and audible
in the basso profundo of the Sompnour, in Mac
farren's " Robin Hood"--better still in M. Lavas'
seur's charming little chansonette from the Frecell
vaudevilles—best and happiest of all in that excra.
eiatingly ridiculous " Old Bob Ridley" of the
Buckley Serenaders ?

" Single shuffle, double shuffle, cut and cross cut;
snapping his fingers, rolling his eyes, turning iti
his knees, presenting the backs of his legs in front,
spinning about on his toes and heels, like nothing but
a man's fingers on the tambourine ; dancing With
two left legs, two right legs, two wooden legs, Of°
wire legs, two spring legs—all sorts of legs and 00
legs—what is this to him ?"

-
It is for all the world like that astonishing peep
Dickens gives us into the frolic of nigger 11.1 e
(American Notes, I. 218), realised for once on this
side of the Atlantic : when hey !" with the chuckle
of a million counterfeit Jim Crows, in one inimitable
sound," Old Bob Ridley has bounded through the
doorway—and W. S. Woodin is there the not
instant bowing his last bow to his laughing
audience, at the close of another evening shutting;
down the cover, and turning the key in the lock 01
his wonderful Cabinet of Curiosities.

LI2'ERATURE.

All for the Best : a Story of Quiet Life. 3 vols.
Hurst and Blackett.
This is a story of domestic life which does not
detail any very remarkable events, but tells is an
effective manner the record of home joys and sor'
rows which influence so powerfully the course of
human existence. The two sisters, who principally'
engage our attention, are different in disposition,
but both estimable. Mabel is an excitable and
enthusiastic girl, who is always restlessly endea-
vouring to do something grand, and tormenting
herself and others by her vague speculations and
unsettled habits. The diary which she keeps
illustrates in a forcible style her various
phases of mind and the devious turnings
she took before she arrived at a happy
stage of progress. Maud's history is far more simple
in its short sad tenour. She was one of those gentle
gracious beings who are occasionally met with in
the dark paths of sad mortality, as if to show us
how bright and beautiful human nature can become.
She was the guiding influence of the house, though
she was much younger than Mabel. She was en'
gaged to Stephen Roden shortly after the commence'
went w the story. He was agent to a duke in the
neighbourhood, and was a man in every way
fitted for Maud, from his high principle and kind
heart. For a few short months all went happily
with them, and then—
" As they descended, following hope,
There sat the shadow feared of man."
A fatal accident on the railway terminated
Stephen's life, a few weeks before their wedding'
day, and Maud was left on the threshold of exis-
tence to sorrow over the heaviest calamity that could
befall her. The passages that record this era of her
life are very beautifully written, and convey in an
earnest spirit the depths of the affliction and the
Christian faith with which she was enabled to meet
it. As Maud wandered over the garden, and by
the woodlands of her home, she was, after the
first bitter agony had been past, able to look
calmly around her, and, amil the smiling beauty
of the summer luxuriance which surrounded her,
to look through nature up to nature's God. She
would never say goodbye to Stephen any more.
Henceforth there would be no parting between
them ; never more, indeed, to hold any speech with
him of years on earth to come ; but not the less
truly hers, in all present and coming times, chosen
perhaps by his father, and her father to be one of
those ministering spirits who do always keep watch
and guard over the children of the kingdom.
Further on it is told us how she loved to dwell on
" the pleasant words of Stephen, the last she had
ever heard him speak, " After all, Maud, it is only
a little while." It was thus through this
burning baptism of tears, and afterwards across
this kingly threshold of hope, that Maud
Harcourt passed from girlhood to womanhood."
The events of Mabel's career were very different,
but by degrees we find her learning patience and
imbibing hope in her experience of life, and when
she records this passage in her diary she was nearly
following the footsteps of her sister Maud. "But,
after all, it is only a little while, the weariness will
be past by and bye. There will be nothing of this
to think of, to murmur over, in that glorious coming
time, when in the great eternity we shall awake
and find it day." She was married soon after
Maud's trial, as she wished nothing to be different
on her account, and Maud was left to perform her
duties, more than ever appearing as an angel
spirit doing good to all around her. The motto of
the book is a very beautiful one, " So He bringeth
them to the haven where they would be." In
its earthly sense Maud had long ago reached
it, in a heart at peace within, but Mabel was
some time before she had
_passed the rough
waves on which she was tossing when we first
beheld her. It was some years before Maud was
taken to the real haven where only ca'i the spirit
rest, where the waves of this troublesome world
have been left for ever. The description of Maud's
death is a touching scene, replete with calm and
so.ernnity. At the beginning of her trouble we
were told that " she was able to look forth clearly
and steadily unto the land that is very far off," and
this happy gift of vision did not desert her at the
last. There are one or two well described indivi-
duals met with in these pages, as, for instance, Mrs.
Tresilis and Miss Gabbatis. The former in her
beauty and her loveliness forms a melancholy object
of interest, and it is a relief to learn that she soon
sunk to rest and found her grave close to the shores
of that sea she so loved. Miss Gabbatis is a
good specimen of a village gossip, but she is a
very harmless one, and all look forward to her
visits with pleasure. This story of a Quiet Life
may contain more useful information and convey
more desirable hints than many grander and more
demonstrative works. It tells of the simplest occur-
rences in an impressive manner, and the great
lessons of life and death are only to be learned in
solitude and reflection. The- author has had at
heart to teach all readers how to look for quiet
in the stormy scenes of a world at strife, and
where the haven lies in which the weary voyagers
may look for peace when—

" The I, torm4 are weathered and the ocean crossed."
The last scene of Mud's life is thus described:—
" Once more, and for the last time, ere it was given to her
again for ever there came that far-back little golden year of
hope—the hope that had changed the current of her whole
life, and whose loss ha,i worked for her such noble compen-
sation. It came to her in its earthly likeness for just one
more loving look, and she said farewell to it very quietly,
knowing that it would be only a little while before she saw
it again transfigured into heavenly beauty, hers for ever,
standing in the light of the new world the shadows of this
one passed away, and she remembered only the joy. Draw-
ing so near, step by step, to the eternal gates, where no
thought of sadness might find leave to enter, the angel of
sorrow that had accompanied her through all these years
let fall his garb of mourning, and she beheld him as one of
the shining ones. What need, then, for the glory to come
down upon her face as she thought of these things ; and
then bending over her, Miss Nunby saw that the light upon
her face was given there by the lingering sunlight only. It
was all over, the "little while" so long waited for. so
patiently endured, was come at last. Stephen and Maud
would never have to part any more now, never any more at
all, ' And so He bringeth them unto the haven where they
would be,' "

THE WEATHER.

METEOROLOGICAL REPORTS.

-----t
This Day,
tetween 8 and B. ,E. M. 1 D. F. C. LS.
9 a.m.
,-- ——— -- Nairn 301 ,044 40 W.S.W. 3 7 Aberdeen .... 30.12 e. 240 37 W. 37m. 2 Leith .. ...... 3016 48 43 S.W. 47m, 2
Berwick 3O 22 49 44 W. S. W. 1 1 b. 3
Ardrossan 3021 46 44 W.S.W• 3 5 c. 3
Porte sli
Shields 3029 4t 37 N.N E. 3 2 b. 5
Galway 30 30 50 47 N.E. 2 4 1
Scarborough.. 30' 8 45 41 N. 3 3bc. .
4 Liverpool .... 3025 46 39 N. 1 2c. 1
Valentia...... 30'34 51 • 45 N.N.E. 2 7 c. 2
Queenstown... !t027 tO 49 N. 4 50. 2
Yarmouth._ 30 15 44 43 i N. 4 6
London 3o'lB i4l 41 N.N.W. 2 8 c. 4
, over 30. 3 47
.43 .
N.E..E 5 3 c. 1 4
'ortsmouth.. 30• I 3 50 40 W.
'ortland .... 302n0 50 36 N.N.W. 3 7 c. ! 2
'lymonth .... 3019' 51 47 N.N.W. 3 5 c. 12.
'enzance ... 3025 52 51 N.E. 1 7 b. 1
1

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EXPLANATION.—B. Barometer, corrected and reduced
to 32 deg at mean sea level ; each 10 feet of vertical rise
causing about 1-100th of an inch diminution, and each 10
deg above 32 deg causing nearly 3-10;)ths increase. E.
Exposed thermometer in shade. M. Moistened bulb (for
-vaporation and dew-point). D. Direction of wind (true--
to,t magnetic). F. Force (1 to 12—estimated). C. Cloud
(1 to 9). I. Initials :—b,, blue sky; G., clouds (detached) ;
f., fog. ; h., hail ; 1., lightning ; m., misty (hazy) ; 0.,
overcast (dull) ; r., rain ; snow, t., thunder. A letter
repeated augments—thus, r.r., much rain. S. Sea disturb-
ence (1 to 9).