The Sun.
London, England, 1850-08-29 00:00:00

THE ROYAL VISIT TO CASTLE

HOWARD.

CASTLE HOWARD, AUG. 28.—The weather, which
throughout yesterday was wet, stormy, and disagree-
able, has cleared up this morning, and though there
has been a smart breeze blowing, her Ma=jesty has
been enabled to see the beauties of Castle Howard in
all the advantageous lights which sunshine and a
&ear sky imp.rt. She had hardly arrived yesterday
evening when darkness closed in, and though the rain
had.almost ceased, every object looked dismal, except
the lights gleaming from the windows of the royal
banquet room, and from the lofty cupola of the dome
surmounting the centre of the building. At the din-
ner covers were laid for 35, and among the company
present, besides her Majesty and Priece. Albert, were
the Countess of Carlisle, and Lady Mary Howard,
the Duchess of S itherland and Lady Constance
Leveson Gower, Mr. C. W. Howard, M.P.,
Cap`ain E G. Howard, M.P., and Mrs. How-
ard, Mister Howard (heir presumptive to the title
aed estates of the Carlisle family., the Hon.
W. F. Lascelles and Lady Caroline Lascelles,
the Hon. F. and Lady E. Grey, Mr. Prescott
and Mr. Prescott, jun., Viscount Clifden, the Hon.
J. A. Elk, Lady Dover, the Hon. Milo; Ellis, the
Hon. Miss Dima Ellis, Lord Duffsrin (Lord in
I\raiting), the Merchioness of Douro (Lady in Wait-
ing), the Hon. .Miss Lennox (Maid in Waiting),
Colonel the Hon. C. B. Phipps, Colonel the Hon.
Alexander Gordon, Sir George Grey, Sir James
Clark, Major Trench, and General Sir W. Warre.
From an early hour this morning groups of visi-
tors, most of them country folk, began to assemble in
the park, their movements along the avenues and over
the greensward giving to the whole scene a very ani-
mated appearance. The stables where the royal
equipages were collected formed an especial object of'
attraction, and all the ornamental edifices with which
the grounds abound caine in for their due share of
inspection. The principal group of spectators formed
in line along the roadway opposite the north front of
the castle, and here they waited till the royal visitors
should make their appearance out of doors. Their '
patience was somewhat taxed. Her Majesty and the
Prince breakfasted at ten o'clock, and about eleven
walked for some time in the private grounds and
woods on the south side of the castle. Here several
trees were planted by the Queen to commemorate her
visit to Castle Howard. Her Majesty in the course
of the morning visited the principal apartments of the
mansion, and expressed her admiration of the many
interesting and valuable works of art which they con-
tain. Among other objects, one, which I omitted to
notice in my letter yesterday, is the pillar from which
the Pythoness delivered her responses in the Temple
of Delphi. It, is about three feet in height, and a
plain round block of sandstone without ornament of
any kind. An additional interest attaches to this
curious relic of Greek mythology from the fact that
it was presented to the Carlisle family by. Lord
Nelson, whose glorious victories are commemorated
by a small but not inelegant pillar raised on the
grass-plot K hich occupies the hollow space left by
Ihe semicircular form of the castle on its north front.

At 12 o'clock the royal party visited the cricket-
ground, and witnessed for some time the play of the
Castle Howard Club NT hile engaged in that truly
national sport. The Ea'rl of Carlisle is particularly
fond of this game, and the spot devoted to it in the
park being surrounded by an amphitheatre cf noble
trees and ornamented by flags and tents, has a very
pretty appearance. About 2 o'clock luncheon was
provided in the castle for a party of 70, and after it
the royal visitors proceeded to inspect the fine herd of
short horned catt:e with which the park is stocked,
and upon the merits of which Mr. Henderson, the
Earl's land-steward, feels a very natural and laudable
pride. 'The stock of cows deserve (special praise
fur their symmetrical proportions eed evident purity
of breed. A catalogue cf them which I have seen
records their names and descent with a care
and particularity worthy of the College of
Heralds, and not ieconsiktent with that regard for
" blood" which, if justifiable in any family, ought
to be so among that of the Howards. At 3 o'clock
her Majesty eau! the Prince drove round the park,
and admired the splendid prospects Red the stately
avenues with which it abounds. There are many
noblemen's seats, the grounds round which display
evidences of a more active superintendence and a
more expensive outlay, but there are few with a
richer variety of scenic effects dependent upon the
natural beauty of the woods, and the fine undulating
sweep of the land. The whole proceedings of the
day were of the most quite, unostentatious character,
and in complete keeping with the privacy which her
Majesty wishes to preserve in visiting Castle Howard.
So little formality was there that the crowds of
visitors flocking there to catch a glimpse of the
Queen, and who during the morning kept respetfully
at a distance, in the after part of the day occupied,
in the form of a well-conducted meh, the (n-
-tire approach to the castle, up to the very steps
Of the main entrance. Her Mjetty was received
wherever she went with every sign of loyal at-
tachment. The number of people assembled was
very cons:de.rable, but not so large as to produce the
tumultuous character of a town demonstration of
loyal t y Times.

THE SUBMARINE

TELEGRAPH

BETWEEN DOVER AND CALMS.

S'T'RAITS OF DOVER, WEDNESDAY EVENING.

The interesting exeerircent of sinkieg submarinely
with success the t toctric telegraph tetween this port and
Ca Lis, ere] which is dt stirsed to form the future key for
instant cemmunica ion with the European continent, was
practically commenced this rnoming, at half pa:t ten
o'clesek, at which hour the Goliah steam-ship, provisioned
for the day, and with a crew of some thirty men, was
brought under weigh within the harbour. There were
on board, Dr. Reid, Mr. J. C. Wollaston, C. E., Mr.
Crampton, C.E , Mr. J. Edwards, Ceptain Beer, and
several ecirntilic gentlemen, with many persona on the
pier to see the cons oy start. The Goliah rode out to
the Government•pier, with her telegrapHo tackle and
apparatus on board, under a calm sea and sky and a
favouring wind. The connexion between the 30 miles
of telegraphic wire, 1-10th of an inch in diameter, and
ercased in a cocci kg of gutta perehs, the thickness of a
little finger, and which was coiled rouud a large cylinder
or drum amidship 15 feet by 7, was then made good to
300 yards of tl.e same wire enclosed in a leac'en
tube on shore, to prevent its being bruised by
the shingle on the beach, and to enable the
experimenters, as they proceeded out to sea, to send
communications en shore. The vessel heing fully
ander weigh steamed cut at the rate of three or four
miles an hour into the open sea in a direct tract for Cape
Grinrz, t Nentt -one miles across the channel, the nearest
landmark to the English coast, and lying midway te-
tween Gelds and Boulogne. The wire weighed five tons,
and the cylinder two. The vessel was preceded by Cap-
tain Bullock, R.N., of her Majesty's steam-ship Wis-l-
geon, who accompanied the experimenters as a pilot, and
who had caused the track of the navigation to be taken
to be marked out by a succession of houys, surmounted
with figs, on the whole route between the English and
French coasts. The operation of paying out the thirty
miles of wire commenced on a signal to the s :Hors to
" Go a head with the wheel, and lay out the wire,
which Ras continuously streamed out over a roller at the
stern of the vessel, the men at every sixteeenth of a mile
being busily engaged in rivetting on to the wire square
leaden clampi or weights of from 141 b. to
241 b. and which had the effect of sinking
the wire in the bottom of the sea, which
on the English coast commences at a depth of thirty feet,
and goes on varying from that to 100 and ISO feet, which
latter, or thirty whom!, is anywhere the greatest depth.
The whole of the casting out and sinking was accom-
plished with great precision and success, owing to the
favourable state cf the day.
Various interesting salutations were kept up hourly
during the progress of submerging the wire between the
gentlemen on board and Messrs. G. and W. Brett, the
original promoters of the enterprise. The only conjec-
tured difficulty on the route was at a point in midchan-
nel called the Ridge, between which and another ine-
quality, called the Varee, both well known and dreaded
by navigators, there is a deep sub-marine valley,
surrounded by shifting sands, the one being
seventeen miles in length and the other twelve,
and in their vortex, not unlike the voracious one of the
Goodwin Ssnde, ships encounter danger, lose their an-
chors, and drift, and trolling nets of fishermen are fre-
quently lost. Over this, however, the wire was success-
tully submerged below the reach, it is believed, of either
ships' anchors, sea animals, or fishing nets. The re-
, mainder of the route, though rougher on approaching
the coast of France, was accomplished cleverly but
slowly; but, as the expedition had not reached its dcsti
nation to enable cur correspondent to announce the
gratifying fact under the bottom of the sea by tele-
graph, and thence by the last express from Dover at
eight o'clock, he will be compelled to postpone it until
such time thereafter as the Goliah shall have reached
Cape Grinrz.
(BY SUBMARINE TELEGRAPH.)
CAPE GRINEZ, COAST t• F FRANCE,
HALF-PAST EIGHT, P M.

The Gofish has just arrived in safety, and the com-
plete connexion of the underwater wire with that left at
Dover this morning is being run up the face of the
cliff ; c( mplimentary interchanges are passing between
France arid England under the strait and through it,
for the first time. The French msii, vt mos est, may not
arrive at Dover at the time of going to press ; but, in a
short time, on the necessary arrangements being com•
plete, Paris news and closing prices at the Bourse will
be Communicated by a mail that sets time and detention
at dtfittrec.

Pr INCE A 1.73 KjiT'S El RTH-DAY.—Monclay being
the anniversary of the birthday of his Royal Highness
Prince Albert, a royal salute was was fired from the Castle
guns in cele'sration of the occasion. His Royal Highness
has completed his thirty-first year.—Scotsman.
DEATH FROM LOCK JAW.—Last night Mr. Lang-
barn, deputy coroner, held an inquest at the Plough Taverns.
Carey. street, Lincoln's Inn-filds, on the body of Richard
Wilmot, aged 37,a stableman, living at 19, Shire-lane, who
died from lock-jaw. About a week since the deceased, who
was in a good state of health, received a puncture in one
of his toes, through a rusty nail penetrating his shoe. The
wound festered, and a few days afterwards he went to King's
College lio,rit,tl. r. here Le had it lanced; the wound
healed, but on Motiday he was seized with symptonts of lock-
jaws'and on the following day he was removed to the hospi-
tal, where he expired. Verdict, " Died from tetanus, pro-
duced by a puncture tom a rwty

LITERATURE.
IN MEMORIAM. By. Alfred Tennyson.
Although its authorship is not in any way acknow-
ledged upon the title- page of "In Dileinoriam," it has
already become so well known throughout the reading
community, that we here mention it without the
slightest hesitation. To affect any doubt upon the
subject would be to assume in the shallowest manner
an air of critical discernment. Not but that the
present effusion contains in every stanza abuneant
evidences of those poetic beauties which could alone
have emanated from the
genius of Mr. Tennyson.
Indeed we cannot remain for an instant dubious as to
whether under any circumstances we should not our-
selves have detected that delicate sensibility, that
melodious diction, and that all-abounding daintiness
of metaphor which have acquired for our author the
recompense of his perennial popularity. All oppor-
tunity, however, cf revealing in this way our appre-
ciation of his peculiar gifts was denied to us by the
rumours which traced the present volume to_ his in-
tellect, even prior to the day of its publication. It has
consequently so happened that almost from the first
moment of its appearance the public have been more
or less aware of the occasion in which have originated
these exquisite poems, modestly and touchingly en-
titled "In Memoriam." From the circumstance of
their bring preceded by a date and certain initials, it
has been surmised that they are commeniorative of the
death, in 1833, of Arthur Henry flellam, a son of the
distinguished annalist. As a bosom trieeal of the de-
ceased, and, what is yet mere, as his intended brother-
in-law, mourning over that untimelyediesipation of so
many beautiful visions of the hereafter, Mr. Tennyson
has raised this elegiac song of plrittitFee and most
tender recollictiens. Since the hour when Milton,
under the pressure of a like calamity, la-
mented over the: ashes of "Lvcidas," or rather since
the time wirer] Shelley cliaunted his sorrowful
eulogiums above the Roman grave of " Adonais," no
such lovely and 'harmonious strains of anguish have
been audible among the various music of our litera-
ture. In this masterpiece of poetic composition Mr.
Tennyson has caught his inspiration directly from the
spirit of Erato, from that lyric muse whose influence
is diffused so unstintingly among her nobler and
truer votaries, giving
eloquence indiscriminately to
the ploughman and the priest, to the ascetic and the
voluptuary, to Burns weeping for his Mary, to
Petrarch at the tomb of Laura, to Abelard in the
cloister, and Rousseau in the orchard. Unlike many
of his precursors, however, in this school of
rythmical oratory, Mr. Tennyson has only articu-
lated thoughts of the most unaffected grace and
purity while raising his voice in the accents of
posthumous adulation. Through Out so many
hundred verses it is, in truth, surprising
to detect not the smallest vestige of wilful
eccentricity, not the most momentary indul-
gence of the merely meretricious. The ideas
rise spontaneously to the imagination of the poet, as
spontaneously as the tears well up from the
depth of an agonizing memory. Everything, more-
over, is in unison with the sadness of the commemo-
rated bereavement. Even the stanzi selected by the
cultivated and discriminating taste of Tennyson, al-
though at the first somewhat unpalatable from its
monotony, becomes, from the very fact of that mono-
tony, so congenial in its resonance with the one
theme—the one ever recurring and inexorable regret,
that it ends by assuming to itself a tone of irresistible
fascination. A stanza of four lines rhyming, not al-
ternately, but the second with the third and the first
with the fourth—it is strange to find what varying
melodies may be drawn from that restricted
chord, the sustained vibration of which thrills
to the innermost recesses of our suscepti-
bility. Throughout its every sound we may
hear the voice of the post rising and falling in ac-
cordance with the rise and fall of his emotions, now
sinking into dejection, now soaring on the wings of
fancy to the height his consolatory conjectures :
all the while the rhythm throbbing like the pulsa-
tions of his heart, measured, warm, and uninterrupted.
Of the exqusite simplicity of the whole effusion we
cannot speak in terms of too earnest admiration. Our
niesnina• in this particular may be recognised at a
glance, through the following eloquent syllables ad-
dressed to the Divinity in the impassioned tones of
supplication :
Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinhs he was not made to die;
And thou hest made him : thou art just.
What though the whole of these brief elegiac poems,
written under_ the humble inscription "In Memo-
riam," are designated by their gifted author-
- Wiid aid wandering cries
Confusions of a wasted youth%
not such will they be esteemed by those among their
readers who have had their own hearts tormented by
the pangs of unavailing lamentation. To all such
there will be at once perceptible a meaning in pas-
sages to others beyond the reach of comprehension.
In their appreciative judgment the chaos of misery
will resolve itself into orbits of comfort and cycles of
consolation. The gist of whatever solace is here
offered by the poet to his brothers in effliction may
be found embodied in this ejaculation to the
Godhead—

Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I ttu3t he lives in thee, and there

I find him wox thier to be loved.
What a world of tenderness and admiration is com-
pressed into that second line which we have italicised I
Whet noble sentiments those to actuate the poet in
the expression of his grief—
I trtt,t he liras in thee, and Mere •
Ifini him worthier to be loved.
Chequered as the sensations of alternating
woe and serenity consequent upon the ex-
perience of some grievous calamity, the
poems, in which our distinguished author here ex•
presses his suffering over the loss of his beloved
friend and compnion, fluctuate from the wildest sorrow
to the calmest resignation. Hence, from their extra-
ordinary variety of mood, they constitute no un-
worthy study for the ps3 chologist.. Their philosophy,
ever pure and lofty,
elevates the soul of the reader to
the humanizing atmosphere of religious meditation.
Their style, ever natural and symmetric, bewitches
the ear with its terse and :variable modulations. From
first to last the poet speaks with a sense rather of
his subject than of himself, with an eye rather to
what he would say than to how he should say it.
Seldom, if ever, have wb observed the individuality of
any writer so entirely merged into the theme of his pro-
duction, his self-consciousness being altogether absorbed
by his consciousness of a supreme misfortune. It
were frivolous to attempt anything
like a systematic
analysis of a work of such infinite delicacy both of
design and execution. All that can be attempted in
the way of criticism is an allusion to the predomi-
nant characteristics of the performance, whether ob-
jectionable or meritorious. At once, then fore, we
would transcribe the subjoined stanzas as a specimen
of the severe grandeur, almost amounting at times to
sublimity in the expression a sadness, for which the
book, on occasions, is remarkable. We know no
more striking picture of deep and breathless serenity
than the following

Calm is the morn without a sound,
Calm as to suit a calarr grief; And only thro' the fadtd leaf
The chesuut pattering to the ground:
Calm and deep peace on this high weld,
And on these dews that drench the fats?,
And all the silvery gossamers
That to itkle into green and gold:
Calm and still light on, yen great plain
That sweeps with all its autumn boners,
And eroded farms and lessening towers,
To mingle with the bounding main:

And in my heart, if calm
Calm and deep pease in this wide air,
Thes3 leaves that redden to the
If any calm, a calm despair.
i in rest
:t all,
Thereupon the poet harmonizes the sense of his own
individual bereavement with the almost oppressive
stagnation
Aofntdhewahvoeusrthaantdswthaey seasonthem
e :
themselves I
Calm on the seas, and silver s'eep,
And dead calm in that noble breast '
Which heaves but with the heaving deep.
All his matchless powers of description are lavished
though ever
upon [the pages of " In Memoriam,"
unobtrusively and incidentally. Who but Mr. Ten-
nyson among our young poets could paint at once
with such verbal brevity and suggestive amplitude ?
As where spe6king of the winter solstice, when ice
Makes daggers at the sharpen'd eaves
Where he mentions a summer's evening, when
lambing ankle-deep in flowers,
We heard behind the woodbine veil
The milk that bubbled in the pail,
And buzzings of the honied hours:
or, again, where he exclaims-
-0 sound to rout the brood of cares,
The sweep
I;st of scythe in morning dew,
that round the garden flew,
,
And tumbled half the mellowing pears!
With one felicitious phrase he conjures up at will
a whole panorama opening up in vistas of inter-
minable beauty. It is in this felicitous manner that
he talks of
The la
i'',cg thro' the heat,
orrectness, as descrip-
tive expression
of inimitable
ape
wr'l
of scenery viewed through the atmosphere of a
summer noonday. One kindred epithet would have
c7l •
startled us into an exclamation of delight, but that we
.., remembered having already met with it in our
author's medley of the Princess." It is where he
speaks of the " devvr tasselt'd wood." Occasionally,
it is true, Mr. Tennyson cannot rid himself of a Li-
vourite mannerism, detrimental to the purity and
completeness of his composition; as' where he
introduces; such fantastic. s similies as the " closing
eaves of wearied eats. Such blemishes no
vertheless are so minute in their character, and so
seldom detected, that they only serve when encoun-
tered to mark the o,qcounding beauties of the

effusion ; such beauties as the name given to the
period immediately preceding death—
the low dark verge of life,
The twilight of eternal day."
Similar in brilliancy, and kindred in character to the
last-mentioned, is th•it metaphor of—
That deep dawn beyond the tomb
When, clear f:om raarge to marge shall bloom,
The eternal landscape of the past.
How happy, again, is that mention of two lovers—
Their meetings ma•ie December June,
Their every parting was to die
And that record of—

- songs, and deeds, and lives that lie
Foreshortened in the tract of time!

SJmetimes, but unfrequently, the rhythm is halting,
the word spirit" being always, instead of remaining a
di!sylable, so compacted into a monosyllible as to
suggest the unpoetic sound of "spiet"—vide pp.
115, 119, 134, 13G, and 171. Again, this blunder-
ing of the metre is disagreeably perceptible in two
instances, at page 116, in the line—
To the other shore, involved in thee, &c.,
and in the line soon afterwards—

The old bitternesJ again and break, &c.,
the stumbling sound of which may be readily distin-
guished when read with their context in the original.
From such microscopic however, let us turn to
the splendid and pervading merits of " In Memoriam,"
as a poetic composition. Not all the humility of the
author in his allusion to his performance can diminish
our estimate of its many and lofty excellences. We
Can scarcely hearken with patience, therefore, when
be observes—
These mortal lullabies of rain
May bir.d a book, may lice a box,
May serve to curl a maiden's locks;
Or when a thousand moons shall wane

A man upon a stall may find,
And, liaising, turn the page that tells
A grief—then changed to something else,
Sung by a long forgotten mind.
Of the sincerity, nevertheless, of these depreciatory
remarks upon the volume we are fully satisfied, seeing
that the aim of Mr. Tennyson is rather to sing of the
virtues of his friend than to widen his own reputa-
tion. In proof of this we find him saying—
I care not in these fading days
To raise a cry that lasts not long,
And round thee with the breeze of .wng
To stir a little dust of Praise.
That the merits of the departed companion of Mr.
Tennyson were worthy to the full of his affectionate
friendship we cannot doubt for an instant after read-
ing that tine stanzA—
I leave thy praises urexpresed
In verse that brings myself relief,
And by the measure of my grief
I leave thy greatness to be guess'd.
That all such grief, however terrible, is in its influ-
ence beneficent, even in the care-ravaged judgment of
the poet, we can see in a twinkling, when we find him
almost in tones of exultation crying out that life is not
an idle ore—

But iron dug from central gloom,
Aril heat( d hot with burning fears;
And dipp'd in baths of hissing tears,
And batter'd with the shocks of doom.
Nor are these consolatory thoughts restricted to mere
generalities; their truth is applied by the poet to his
own rflhiction, where, alluding to the deceased, he
says—
Whste,ver way my clays decline,
I felt aria feet, though left alone,
His bdpg workinz in mine own,
The footsteps of his life in mine.
Meditating at another mouvrnt upon cur ignorance of
all celestial knowledge, he concludes his reverie thus
touchingly and beautituUy
So runs my dream: but what am I?
An incant crying in the night:
An infant crying for tLe light:
And with no languko but a cry.
Perhaps the most exquisitely plaintive couplet in the
whole of this lovely composition is where the author
speaks of moments
Illienfia'd with tears that cannot fall,
I biini tri:h sorrow drowning song.
The incredulity felt by all those who have suffered
from a similar bereavement is thus tenderly de-
picted :

If one shouli bring me this report,
That thou haett touch'd the land to-dly,
And I Heat down unto the Tiny,
And found then lying iu the por,
Aud standing, muffled round with woe,
Should sve thy passengers in rank
Come stepping lightly down the plank,
And beckoning tret) those they know,
And if along with these should come
The ruin I h(ld as hslf•di►ine;
Skaould strike a sudden hand in mine,
And ask a tlousand things of home;
And I hhould tell him all my pain,
And how my life had droop'd of late,
And he should sorrow o'er my state
And marvel what ;ossess'd my brain;

And I p:rceireil no touch of change,
No hint of death in all his frame,
But Lund him all in all the same,
I should not :eel it to be strange.
It is with a poet's senFibility that Mr. Tennyson re-
joices at the burial of his dead friend in English
earth, so that

- from his ashis miy he made
The viol t of his native hind.

For, as he himself acknowledges elsewhere, it always
seems sweeter to us poor mortals
To rest beneath the c!ov.!r sod,
That talus the sunshine and the rains,
Or where the kneeling hanakt drains

The chalice of the grape-lof God.
Thoughts apart from the immediate subject under
celebration are scattered up and down the volume,
from amongst which we take almost at random the
two subjoined :
Tue baby new to earth and bky,
What timis his tender palm is prest
Against the circle of the breast,
Has never thought that " this is 1."

I ev,not Re the features right,
When on the gloom I -trice to paint
The face I know; the hues are faint

And mix with hollow masks of night.
Such are among the treasures of sentiment and ima-
gination stored up in this casket " Ire Memoriam," a
casket of poetic gems laid by the hand of a distin-
guished writer on the tomb of a buried friendship.
nose who have wept over the death of their best be-
loved (and alas! which amongst us is without reason
of lamentation) will turn again an I again to these
delicious strains of sorrow rirging round th 3 me-
mory of Arthur klalarn, and emanating from the
golden lyre of Alfred Tennyson. To the sorrow-
stricken they will prove a wade mecum of condolence,
insinuating in the gentlest strains of elegiac regret
the precious spoils of solace drawn by genius from
the abysses of suffering. Altogether, we are not
guilty of any Extravagance in terming this volume
"I❑ Idemr:riam" one of those masterpieces of poetic
literature which disclose new and unexpected stores
of beauty and wisdom at every separate re-examina-
tion.

THE Faun() 'BussEs.—When we were at school
we used i❑ our themes to select Fabius as our great standing
example of delay ; but if we now required a standing ex-
ample of delay we should select a Pimlico 'bus as our staple
commodity. The manner in which these vehicles "drag
their slow lergth along" is something quite unique in its
way, and we frequently make the mental observation, that
as speech is often used t ) conceal thought, so a Pitnhco 'bus
is resorted to in order to retard a journey. We have heard
arithmeticians talk of a fixed quantity, but we never saw
the idea so thoroughly carried out as we did the other day,
when we noticed a quantity of passengers fixed at Hyde-
park•corner in a l'imlies) omnibus. Shakepere talks about
somebody having been "fixed as great Atlas' self," but we
must say for the Atlas omnibuses, that we never saw
one of them "fixed" for any considerable time
and if the Bard of Avon had said "fixed as great
Royal Blue's self," he would have approached
much nearer to our modern notions of a fixture. It is true
that the public has its remedy—as well as its threepence—in
its own hand,:and,it would do well to discourage the stagnant
omnibuses by declining to ride in them. We can only say,
that•

If we saw an omnibus what wouldn't go,
Do you think we'd enter it ? No, no, no,
We'd take out a summons, and cry, " So, so,
Your pulled up, Jarvey !"
It seems that the officers of the Blues—that is to say, the
conductors—are not remarkable for knowing how to conduct
themselves, however expert they may be in conducing their
vehicles. It is a pity there is no academy for a cad in want
of a stock of good manners. It is true sve cannot expect
much civility to be thrown into the bargain, when the fare
is only threepence, but we had rather ride a shorter distance
for our money than go further and fare worse at the hands,
or rather at the tongue, of the conductor. —runfh.
COLLISION ON THE RIVER.—GRAVESEND, AUG.
28.—About four o'clock yesterday afternoon, the tide being
at the time nearly full, and it blowing a gale from the
south-west, a collision tied: place in Northfleet Reach be-
tween a brig, laden with corn from the Baltic, and proceed-
ing up the river, and an empty collier running down. The
damage done to the collier was such as to cause her to be at
once run on shore on the Essex side, where, in a few
minutes, she filled with wa'er, the tide being still flowing.
The brig kept on her tack to this side, and was brought to
anchor close to the shore between Rosherville-pier and Pit-
cher's dockyard, at Nortl,thet. The men were kept working at
the pumps for several hours, when at low svattr her damage
was partially repaired so as to enable her to be- kept free.
The collier on the opposi' e shore was got off at the next tide,
when the damage done t her was also partially repaired
ss as to enable her to be brought to this side to Undergo the
necessary repairs. The cargo of the brig must be seriously
damaged.

We are inclined to believe that Major-General Sir
John Grey, K.C.8., stands a very excellent chance of being
selected for the important command of the troops in the
Bombay Presidency, which appointment is likely to become
vacant by the removal of Lieut.-General Sir William Gomm,
K.C.B, to the situation of Commander-in-Chief of the
Forces serving in the East Indies.
Thirty-...?.even bottle-nose whales were captured in
the Forth, a few miles above Alio, on Sunday
last Dum-
fries Courier.

THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE NAVY.

TO THE FDITOU OF THE TIMES.
Sir,—After the Tory Administration had made
promotions in pace by wholesale beivra they quitted
office, they left a legacy to their successors in the
shape of the following minute :
" Their Lordships having taken into their considera-
tion the state of the half-pay list, and being desirous of
operating its gradual reduction in time of ['race,
"Reiolved—That from this date no proinoti.:n (except
for special brilliant service)shall be made in any rank of
commissioned officers (save flag-Lfficers), except in the
proportion of one prosiotion fur every three vacancies
which may be made by the removal by ch ash, dismissal,or
ether causes, of officers from the effective li.ts of each
rank kept at this office; death or court-martial vacancies
liable to he filled up by Commanders-in-Chief abroad
not being'reckoned."
What, Sir, is the title meaning of this minute ?
Simply that the vacancies of one in three are the sole
patronage of the First Lord, and that if an officer
distinguishes himself he must be promoted by the
board. Practically we all knew, before this minute
was issued, that the First Lord promoted wh m he
pleased, though occasionally an officer, for long aid
distinguished services, slipped in ; but this minute is
an open avowal of the fact, and hen I mentioned it
in the House I was answered by the senior naval
Lord, "and little enough too."
Now, Sir, I hold that the promotions in the navy
are meant for the public good, and not fur the private
and political friends of the First Lord.
I am not simple enough to suppose that, in a Go-
vernment ours, interest will not be attended to;
but that ought to be the exception, not the rule; and
I shall here quote a passage from Alison, which is
well worth the attention of the present as well as all
other Governments :

" The aristocracy have, in every period, been deeply
implicated in the causes which unhappily E 0 often im-
pair the efficiency of our naval and military ettsblish-
meats. Incessant are the eff, its which all the holders
of Parliamentary influence make during the tranquillity
of peace to get their connexions and dependents elevated
to situations which they are frequently it competent to
fill. During the danger and excitement of war Govern-
meats are compelled by necessity to select the most
worthy to discharge momentous and perilous duties, and
are enabled by the magnitude of their patronage to do
so without alienating their Parliamentary supporters.
But under the limited establishments and with the com-
paratively unimportant duties of peace, this is impos-
sible. Reductions cn all sides then compel a rigid atten-
tion to influence in the disposal of situations, while the
slumber of pacific life affords a prospect of the incapa•
city of the persons promoted not being discovered, or
not becoming productive of public disaster. During the
latter years of a long peace influential imbecility is
daily, in the army and navy, mounting men exclusively
to the bead of affairs; and when hostilities break out a
large proportion of the officers in high command are
generally found to be wholly unfit for the duties devolt-
ing on them. Thus while democratic clamour starves
down the establishment to a ruinously low standard in
point of amount, aristocratic cupidity parel)z,s the di-
rection and nullifies the exertions of that part which is
allowed to exist. The disaster at the commencement of
the war of 1739, during the first threa years of the war
of 1756, during the whole of the American contest,
during the first lair years of the Revolutionary contest,
and in the dreadful campaign of Affghanistan in 1840,
may all be traced to the combined operation of these
causes."

I shall now examine how the minute was attended
to by the gentlemen to whom the legr.cy was left,
and how far those who left that h gacy complied with
it when they returned to office.
On the 27th of February, 1830, the date of the
minute, there were on the list of the navy, according
to a return furnished to the House of Commons—
captainn, 858 ; commanders, 918 ; lieutenant 4, 3,550.
In the beginning of November, 1830, when they went
out of office, there were—

Removals. Promotions.
Captains .... .... 64
Commanders •• a 40
_ _

Lieutenants .. 240
A flag promotion caused the removal of so many
captains and commanders, and 176 lieutenants re-
tired with the rank of commander, but no additional
pay ; so, in point of fact, there were only 64 lieute-
nants removed. To the end of 1834, when Sir Jas.
Graham and Lord Auckland were at the head of the
navy, there. were—

-
Removal. Promotions.
Captains .... .... 92
Commanders .... 132
Lieutenants ... .... 421
What number were promoted by admirals abroad,
and for special services, I have no means of ascer-
taining, but if the Admiralty abided by the minute,
it must have been considerable.

In the latter end of 1834 Llrd de Grey came into
office. lie had hardly time to look about him when
he was succeeded by Lord Auckland, and he again
by Lord Minto. Time First Lords within a year!
Napoleon said one bad general was better than two
good ones. I may say with him, one bad Fiat Lord
is better than three good ; but, the great Whig and
Tory families who rule this country are of a different
opinion. In 1835 there were
Itemova!s. Promotions.
Captains ... .. 25 ... 12
Commanders ... 42 17
Lieutenants .. 74 32
From 1836 until September, 1841, when the
Tories returned to office, there were—

Removals.
C sptains ... 187
Commanders ... 262
Lieteenants . . 717

Promotions.
138
229
417

Tie promotions, it will h seen, very mu-.:h exceed
one in three. Syria and China were the excuse for
this; but, in war, no such promotions took place,
even for general actions.

According to a return furnished by the Khniralty,
the promotions in war time were as follows :
For the battle of the Ist of June, 33 lieutenants
were made commanders.

For the Battle of St. Vincent, 16 lieutenants were
made cornraandem

For Camperdown, 14 lieutenants to commanders.
Nile, 1 commander to captain, 13 lieutenants to
commanders.

Traralgar, 5 commanders were made captains; 28
ieutenants, commanders; 27 midshipmen, lieu-
:enantA.

St. Domingo, 1 commander, 7 linittmants, 8 mid.

And at the peace promotion 68 commanders, 133
lieutenants, and 861 midshipmen were promoted.
When the Tories came into office, i❑ 1841, they
found on the Navy List—captains, 701 ; cDmman-
ders, 772; lieutenants, 2,718. They fuli,hed the
year 1841 with a sweEping promotion, making 40
admirals, 53 captains, 93 commanders, and 123
lieutenants.

Syria and China spin got the credit of this pro-
motion, though I do act believe a fourth part of those
promoted were on either station ; and, if they had
all been there, such a promotion vvaa quite un-
called for.

When they went out of office they left on the list,
—captains, 728 ; commanders, 853; lieutenants,
2,530; being an increase of 27 captains and 81 com-
manders, and a decrease of 188 lieutenants ; FO that
the very men who made the minute in 1830, before
they went out of office, paid no attention to it in the
higher ranks when they came back. So much for
ruling the navy by a political Admiralty.
After agitating the qtrstion of a retired list until
the session of 1846, the late Sir Robert Peel consented
to grant a retired list to old captains. The first plan
was fortunately given up, as there was no restriction
to length of service, and a much better was propcsed,
viz., to allow captains of GO years of age, and within
100 of the top of the list, to retire with the rank and
pay of rear-admirals ; Lut the new board brought
forward a plan of their own, not nearly so good, and
allowed twn of 50 to retire on 11. a day and 18e., and
to take their rank as admirals when those cf the same
standing who remained on the active li.t beettne ad-
mirals ; and when the retired admirals are reduced to
25 they are to have an addition of pay as a reward for
having given up 14s. 61 to receive 11. and 18F. No-
thing could have been so absurd ; there is now no
encouragement for an old man near the top of the
active list to retire. He must, I presume, come in at
the bottom of the list of retired captains.

The retired list was accompanied by a:promotion
of 20 captains to admirals—quite unnecessary ; and
the fllg-list was limited to 150; 53 captains were
made retired admirals, to be reduced to 25 ; and 127
captains retired on 1/. and 18s. a day, agreeably to
their standing, and they are to be reduced to 100.
Had they even stopped here it would have been well,
hut they made 48 captains, 85 commanders, and 20
lieutenants ; a promotion certainly not contemplated
by Parliament when 30,000/. a-year was granted for
a retired list.
From 1847 to the end of 1848 there were.—
Removals. Promotions.
Captains ... 76 ••• 30
Cc mmanders . . 110 ..• 73
Lieutenants .. 285 112
In 1849 there were—
Removals. Pr( motions.
12
Captains ... 20 •••

Commanders .. 36 ••• 33
Lieutenant* ... 107 .• 45
It will be seen that the Whigs have not attended to
the minute, or rather, when they exceeded it, they
ciAled it a special prornoticn ; but we all know how
easy it is to get up special promotions. If am not
misinformed, a special promotion was once got up for
a secretary's son of no great service.
I do not wish to be parsimonious of prornotior, fir
_ _

for when well bestowed it is the main spring of action,
but when ill bestowed it is the very reverse. To
prevent abuse for the future, I should recommend one
promotion for two removals ; that should cover every-
thing, and if the First Lord had any conscience at
all, he would divide those promotions betwean men
who really deserve them and his political friends—no
one would complain of that ; but when promotion is
badly given) as it generally is, it causes great disgtigq

in the service, and brings forward men who are little
deserving of it.
Sir Francis Baring has shown tolerable discretion
in the first year of his administration, and only pro-
moted 12 captains against 20 removal-, 32 comman-
ders against 30 removals, and 45 lieutenants against
107. I wish I could say he bad been equally discreet
in his appointments.
When the minute was made there were, as I hive
before stated, 858 captains, 918 commander!, and
3,550 lieutenants ; at the end of 1849 there remain
515 captains, 848 commanders, and 2,221 lieutenants,
being a reduction in 20 years of 343 captains, 70
commanders, and 1,329 lieutenants; but if we deduct
200 who were withdrawn at an expense of 30,0001.
from the captains' list, there has only been a reduc-
tion ef 143. It is now proposed to keep up the
captains to 500, which is quite absurd; they ought to
be reduced to halt that number, and all the corn-
inanelers and lieutenants unfit for service should be
placed on a retired list, end the promotion of one to
two be confined to the removals from the active list.
Officers would then have a chence of being em-
ployed, and of keeping up the knowledge of their
profession, whereas, according to the present sys-
tem, it does not come to an officer's turn in much
.Icsi than twcnty years in the upper ranks; and this
is our state when other nations are doing all they can
to give execrie ace to their ufficcrs.
In the French service c filet rs of a certain age are
obliged to retire, and these fit for service are almost
constantly employed. If this system is persevered in
at the beginnieg f a war we shall find our officers
without experience opposed to slicers who have been
in constant practice ; and it is not difficult to foresee
the result.

In the navy estimates for 185051, the wages to
seamen and marines were 1,322,9591.; the half-pay
and pensions, civil and military, amount to 1,388,6371.,
being 65,678/, more than the wages of seamen and
marines nth:, t, and this after a peace of thirty-five
years ! I have had great diffvulty in obtaining the
lists of promotions and removals, and I trust they are
correct; if not, the Admiralty can very easily lay
before the !louse a correct statement, and the country
Is ill see how far they have complied with their own
regulation.

I remain your obedient servant,
Murchistoun, Aug 25. CHARLES NAPIER.

SIR CHARLES NAPIER.

When we remember the general enthusiasm with
which the appointment of Sir Charles Napier to the
chief command in India was so recently welcomed,
we may presume that the early and unsatisfactory
conclusion of his career in the Esst will have caused
in many minds a feeling of disappointment. It is un-
derstood that the Indian Government had no alterna-
tive but to accept his resignation. The refusal or
neglect of the Commander-in-Chief to carry out an
order of the Government, respecting the regulations
of the army, was necessarily followed by a reprimand,
which led to his immediate determination to lay down
his office. It is greatly to be regretted that an im-
practicable habit of mind should so often tend to ren-
der Sir Charles Napier's high and brilliant qualities
unavailable to the public service. His intemperate
attacks upon some of the East India directors delayed
ror some months, his appointment to the command ;
and they would certaioly have prevented its being
made at ail, if the alarm of the country at the unskil.
fill conduct and balanced success of the Seikh war,
had not induced the authorities of Leadenball-street

to overrule 1111 personal considerations. It appears
ih.►t a similar ebullition of temper has occasioned his
premature withdrawal from office, and the interrup-
tion of the vig(zons changes in the conduct of the
Indian army which he is understood to have been bent
on accomplishing.
. _

It is diiiicult to judge of the justice of the stile•
tures which Sir Charles Napier has so freely bestowed
on various portions of the army under his command.
The India papers are generally warm partisans in
matters relating to the civil and military services ;
and the late Commander-in• Chief had, in his former
rriocl service in leen:red more than an or-
dinary share cf hostility emong the conductors of the
public journals. Oee of the ablest and most widely-
circulated newspapers in India no sooner received the
announcement cf the promotion of the General who
had, for years, been denounced in its columns—when
conqueror and Governor of Sinde—than it promul-
gated a report that that appointment had been pur-
chesed by a bribe to one of our London contempora-
ries. With a minuteness which showed the accu-
racy cf its information, the paper to which we
refer specified the exact sum which Sir Charles
had paid for the insertion of an article
which was supposed to have inspired the
Government, and to have overruled the hesitation of
the India House. 7,0001. was the exact amount
which changed hands iu this nefarious transaction;
and we only wonder at the moderation of the ILd'an
journalist in abstaining from an account of the sums
which must have_ been paid to the rest of the news-
paper pres,,, or employed in buying up the general
voice of society. When we find, on similar authority,
that Sir Charles Napier's judgments were harsh, and
his corop'aints unfounded, we deem it prudent to
heitate before we decide between the conflicting ati-
thorities.

It, must be confessed that there are peculiarities in
Sir Charlib's charccter which, in some degree,
weaken the authority.of his opinions and statements.
He has proved himself on the Indus a most able
general, and in many a ficld in Europe and Asia a
shilcul and fekrless soldier. He is also—the 7,0001.
bribe nut withstanding—unmistakably honest and
strsigbtforward. His love of discipline and
his determination to do his duty are tho-
roughly genuine and unselfish; but, unfortunately,
with a lull share cf the vigour and genius of his
race, he has also the fatal facifiV of language which
has to often led his eloquent relative, the historian,
into exaggeration and bombast. Same of Sir Charles
Napier's dispatches are models of point and vigorous
cornpresion ; but his genius is habitually averse to
the colourless language of business which best suits
an official style. His minutes on courts-martial and
geLeral orcers are too uniformly pithy and severe. A
mgligent colonel or a dissipated subaltern is reproved
with an epigrammatic indignation which might have
proceeded from Tacitus or Juvenal. It is conse•
quently difficult to judge of the standard by which he
judges the state of the Indian army. If we look at
the letter of his minutes, we might fear that it was
li'tle better than a rabble, till we remember how

Brent its character might appear if its chief, in addi-
tion to the qualities of a great commander, had not
also possessed the genius of a vigorous and eloquent
wrier.

Nevertheless, after making all reasonable deduc-
tions, we cannot but fear that the dissatisfaction
which Sir Charles Napier has so frequently manifested
at the condition of his army is, to a considerable extent,
well founded. It is not unknown that officers of experi-
ence have confidentially communicated to the home au•
thorities their unfavourable judgment of the discipline
of the Indian troops. The laxity of former Commanders-
ire Chief is said to have left too much ground for the
irritation of the last holder of the office ; and there
can be no doubt that, in the recent wars, the confi-
dence of the generals has, in too many cases, been re-
posed almost entirely in the European regiments.
That the &Toys' when well officered, are only se-
cond to English soldiers, is an opinion which is en-
tertained by those who know them best, and which
Sir Charles Napier himself has often publicly ex-
pressed ; but it is certain that the competence of the
officers is even more essential to the efficiency of such
troops than in the case of an army like our own. An
English infantry regiment would be a formidable
impediment to an enemy if all its officers were sud-
denly removed from their posts ; but in the Indian
army the whole machinery is set in motion by the
Europeans who direct it, and it stops if they are un-
equal to their duties. The necessity cf mastering a
foreign language, and of understanding Oriental
habits and feelings, imposes a responsibility on those
who command the Sepoys from mhich the officers of
the Qiieen's army are exempt. It is by no means a
matter of boasting that our army has less professional
knowledge among its officers than any other in Eu-
rope. Abundant courage and the spirit of gentlemen
form the ot dirusry qualiLations of our future generals,
but, at last for the Indian army, more special fitness
is required.
Although Sir Charles Napier may have, in some
instances, been unjust or excessive in censure, it can-
not be doubted that his vigorous resistance to laxity
and indiscipline has had a useful effect in checking
and preventing abuses. It is one of the most urgent
duties of the Board of Control and of the India House
to select a successor who will direct his attention to
the subjects which employed his predecessor. The
chief command of India is the most important mili-
tary appointment in the empire, and one of the most
responsible which can be held by any soldier in the
world. Such a rank is not a fitting retirement for a
favoured veteran, or a subject for a family or official
job. Aavar may prepare itself in India without our
notice, as we found to our cost, in two instances, in
the Punjaub ; and a weak or incompetent general,
even if he does not incur losses as fearful as those of
Affghanistar, may destroy the prestige of the English
arms by blundering and indecisive contests. At
present, als^, while there is a reasonable prospect of
peace, a victorious gereral will have (-Dough to o
in
t to
theare
or eftifooreirisi i
iog
ttihl
ee zArmyLa
tun
of
who the
he
are arms.
s
task, and it is to be hoped that neither interest nor
h
carelessness will be allowed to interfere with the re-
con p!t There
er,
cognition of their eleir.-Is.—Chronde.

THE LATE ATTEMPT AT MURDER AT GATEHOUSE.
—We learn that Pr. Mason, who was so severely wounded
by his Ivife at Gatehouse, on the 17th inst., has been pro-
nounced convalescent. The unhappy woman is still of
course confined in Kirkcudbright prison, and a remit Las
been made to intdical men to inquire into the state of her
mind.
An equestrian statue of her Majesty is about to
be erected in Glasgow, its onmemoratipia a the Royal visit
44 NO!