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

BETWEEN DOVER AND CALMS.

STRAITS OF DOVER, WEDNESDAY EVENING.
The interesting experiment of :inking submarinely
with success the electric telegraph between this pert and
Calais, and which is destised to form the future key for
instant communicaion with the European continent, was
practically commenced this morning, at half past ten
o'closk, 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, Captain Beer, and
several scientific gentlemen, with many persons on the
pier to see the convoy start. The Goliub rode out to
the Government-pier, with her telegraphic 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
encased in a covering of gutta percha, the thickness of a
little finger, and which was coiled round a large cylinder
or drum amidship 15 feet by 7, was then made good to
300 yards of the same wire enclosed in a leaden
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 on shore. The vessel being fully
under weigh steamed out at the rate of three or four
miles an hour into the open sea in a direct tract for Cape
Grincz, twenty-one miles across the channel, the nearest
landmark to the English coast, and lying midway be-
tween Culais 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 Wid-
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 bouys, surmounted
with flags, 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 sailors to
" Go a head with the wheel, and pay out the wire,"
which was 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 clamps 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
ou the English coast commences at a depth of thirty feet,
and goes on varying from that to 100 and 180 feet, which
latter, or thirty tathoms, 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 of 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 Varne, 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 Sands, 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-
fully
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 desti-
nation to enable our 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 Grinez.
(BY SUBMARINE TELEGRAPH.)
CAPE GRINEZ, COAST 4,F FRANCE,
HALF-PAST EIGHT, P M.
The Goliah 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 ; cu mplimentary interchanges are passing between
France and England under the strait and through it,
for the first time. The French mail, ut 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 defiance.

---
PRINCE A LBERT'S BIRTII-DAT.—Monday being
the anniversary of the birth-day of his Royal Highness
Prince Albert, a royal salute was was fired from the Castle
guns, in celebration of the occasion. His Royal Highness
has completed his thirty-first year.—Scotsman.
DEATH FROM LOCK JAW.—Last night Mr. Lang-
ham, deputy coroner, held an inquest at the Plough Tavern,
Carey-street, Lincoln's Inn-fields, 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 Hospital, where he had it lanced ; the wound
healed, but on Monday. he was seized with symptoms of lock-
jaw, and on the following day he was removed to the hospi-
tal, where be expired. Verdict, " Died from tetanus, pro-
duced by a puncture tram a rusty nail."

LITERATURE.
IN 3IEMORIAIII. By Ayrcd Tennyson.
Although its authorship is not in any way acknow-
ledged upon the title-page of "In Mernoriatu" 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 abundant
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, of 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 being preceded by a date and certain initials, it
has been surmised that they are commemorative of the
death, in 1833, of Arthur Henry Hallam, a son of the
distinguished annalist. As a bosom friend of the de-
ceased, and, what is yet more, as his intended brother-
in-law, mourning over that untimely dissipation of so
many beautiful visions of the hereafter, Mr. Tennyson
has raised this elegiac song of plaintive and most
tender recollections. Since the hour when Milton,
under the pressure of a like calamity, la-
mented over the ashes of "Lycidas," or rather since
the time when Shelley chaunted 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. Throughout 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 stanza 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 poet 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 of 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
meaning 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 =cleat man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou bast made_him: thou art just.

What though the whole of these brief elegiac poems,
written under the bumble inscription "In Memo-
riam," are designated by their gifted author-
- Wild and 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 ilfiliction may
be found embodied in this ejaculation to the
Godhead—

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

I find him worthier to be loved.
What a world of tenderness and admiration is com-
pressed into that second line which we have italicised !
What noble sentiments those to actuate the poet in
the expression of his grief— .
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find hint 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 companion, 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 psychologist. 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 anti 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 be should say it.
Seldom, if ever, have we 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
en allusion to the predomi-
nant characteristics of the performance, whether ob-
jectionable or meritorious. At once, therefore, we
would transcribe the subjoined stanzas as a specimen
of the severe grandeur, almost amounting at times to
sublimity in the expression of sadness, for which the
eorins remarkable. We know no
of
without a sound,
deep and breathless serenity
more. book,
Cona striking
m occasions,isptihcetuma;
than the following :
Calm as to suit a calmer grief, •
And only thro' the faded leaf
The chesnut pattering to the ground:
Calm and deep peace on this high weld,
And on these dews that dreneh the furze,
And all the silvery gossamers
That twinkle into green and gold:
Calm and still light on yon great plain
That sweeps with all its autumn bowers,
And crowded farms and lessening towers,
To mingle with the bounding main:
Calm and deep pease in this wide air,
These. leaves that redden to the fall;
And in my heart, if calm at all,
If any calm, a calm despair.
Thereupon the poet harmonizes the sense of his own
individual bereavement with the almost oppressive
stagnation of the hour and the season :
Calm on the seas, and silver sleep,
And waves that sway them elves in rest,
And dead calm in that noble breast
Which heaves but with the heaving deep.
All his matchless powers of description are lavished
upon [the pages of " In Alemoriatn," though ever
unobtrusively and incidentally. Who but Mr. Ten-
nyson among our young peels could paint at once
with such verbal brevity and suggestive amplitude ?
Makes daggers at the
As where speaking of the winter solstice, when ice
sharpen'd eaves :
Where be mentions a twosomes evening, when
brushing 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—
() sound to rout the brood of cares,
The The gust that roundht card
flew,l
And tumbled half the mellowing
en dew,
ng
cojres Puears
up at will
With
onef e
1i sweep
jtio of scythe in morning
u s
phrase he n
a whole up in vistas of inter-
minable beauty. It is in this felicitous manner that
he
talks
panorama,
ef.
,inimitable correctness, as descrip-
tivean expression of
through the atmosphere of a
of scenery viewed winhing thro' the heat,
The landscape
summer noonday. One .
kindred epithet would have
t with it • in our
remembered having already me , .
Princess. ' It is where he
author's medley of the " , .
startled us into an exclamation of delight, but that we
speaks of the " dewy-tassell d wood." Occasionally,
.canensiottiornid; heiemself of a fa-
vouritemental to the purity and
it is tru em,
Such blemishes ne-
where he
completeness of his ' Fompimilies as the
introduces:such fantastic( -
'IR
vertheless are so minute in
alSinnrerTiseinnn,YdseDitiri . .
their character, and so
seldom detected, that they only serve when neon-
eaves of wearied eyes..
tered to mirk the egroUnding bertuties of the

effusion ; such beauties as the name given to the
period immediately preceding death—
the low dark verge of life,
The twilight of eter❑al day."
Similar in brilliancy, and kindred in character to the
last-mentioned, is that metaphor of—
That deep dawn beyond the tomb
When, clear from marge to msrge shall bloom,
Tl,e eternal landscape of the past.
How happy, again, is that mention of two lovers—
Their meetings made December June,
Their every parting was to die !
And that record of—

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

Sometimes, but unfrequently, the rhythm is halting,
the word spirit" being always, instead of remaining a
dissylable, so compacted into a monosyllable as to
suggest the unpoetic sound of " spiet"—vide pp.
115, 119, 134, 136, and 171. Again, this blunder-
ing of the metre it disagreeably perceptible in two
instances, at page 116, in the line—

To the uther shore, involved in thee, &c.,

and in the line soon afterwards—

The old bitternesi 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 flaws, however, let us turn to
the splendid and pervading merits of " In Memoriam,"
as a poetic composition. Not ail 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
he observes—
These mortal lullabies of pain
.May bind a book, may line 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, passing, 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 song
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 fine stanza—
I leave thy praises unexpresed
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,
And heated 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 affliction, where, alluding to the deceased, he
says—
'Whatever way my days decline,
I felt and feel, though left alone,
His being working in mine own,
The footsteps of his life in mine.
Meditating at another moment upon our ignorance of
all celestial knowledge, he concludes his reverie thus
touchingly and beautifully—
So runs my dream: but what am I?
An infant crying in the night:
An infant crying for the light:
And with no language but a cry.
Perhaps the most exquisitely plaintive couplet in the
whole of this lovely composition is where the author
speaks of moments
When fill'd with tears that cannot jail,
I brim with sorrow drowning song.
The incredulity felt by all those who have suffered
from a similar bereavement is thus tenderly de-
picted :

If one should bring mo this report,
That thou hadst touch'd the land to-day,
And I went down unto the quay,
And found thee lying in the port,
And standing, muffled round with woe,
Should bee thy passengers in rank
Come stepping lightly down the plank,
And beckoning unto those they know,
And if along with these should come
The man I held as half•divine;
Should strike a sudden hand in mine,
And ask a thousand things of home;

And I should tall him all my pain,
And how my life had droop'd of late,
And he should sorrow o'er my state
And marvel what possess'd my brain;

And I perceived no touch of change,
No hint of death in all his frame,
But found him all in all the same,
I should not feel it to be strange.
It is with a poet's sensibility that Mr. Tennyson re-
jokes at the burial of his dead friend in English
earth, so that

- from his ashes may be made
The violet of his native land.

For, as he himself acknowledges elsewhere, it always
seems sweeter to us poor mortals
To rest beneath the clover sod,
That takes the sunshine and the rains,
Or where the kneeling hamlet drains
The chalice of the grape 3 of 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 :
The baby new to earth and sky,
What time his tender palm is prest
Against the circle of the breast,
Has never thought that " this is I."

I cannot see the features right,
When on the gloom I strive 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 "In Memoriam," a
casket of poetic gems laid by the hand of a distin-
guished writer on the tomb of a buried friendship.
Those who have wept over the death of their best be-
loved (and alas! which amongst us is without reason
of lamentation) will turn again and again to these
delicious strains of sorrow ringing round the me-
mory of Arthur Hallam, and emanating from the
golden lyre of Alfred Tennyson. To the sorrow-
stricken they will prove a vade 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
"In Memoriam" one of those masterpieces of poetic
literature which disclose new and unexpected stores
of beauty and wisdom at every separate re-examina-
tion.

THE PIMLICo 'BussEs.—When we were at school
we used in 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 length along" is something quite unique in its
way, and we frequently make the mental observation, that
as'speech is often used to conceal thought, so a Pimlico '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 Pimlico omnibus. Shakspere 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, 50,
Your pulled up, Jarvey 1"
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 conducting their
vehicles. It is a pity there is no academy for a cad in want
of a stock of good manners. It is true we 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. —Punck.
COLLISION 'ON THE RIVEB.—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 took 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 water, the tide being still flowing.
The brig kept on her tack to this side, and was brought to
anchor close to the shore Letwcen Rosherville-pier and Pit-
cher's dockyard, at Is.lorthfleet. The men were kept working at
the pumps for several hours, when at low water her damage
was partially repaired so as to enable her to be kept free.
The collier on the opposite shore was got off at the next tide,
when the damage done to her was also partially repaired,
so as to enable her to be brought to this side to undergo the
necessary repairs. The cargo of the brig must be seriously
damaged.

W; 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-seven bottle-nose whales were captured in
the Forth, a few wiles above Alloa, en Sunday lot.—Dum.
',fries Courier!

THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE NA VY.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE TIMES.
Sir,—After the Tory Administration had made
promotions in peace by wholesale before they quitted
office, they left a legacy to their successors in the
shape of the following minute:—
" Their Lordships having taken into their coasidera-
tion the state of the half-pay list, and being desirous of
operating its gradual reduction in time of peace,
"Resolved—That from this date no promotion (except
for special brilliant service) shall be made i❑ any rank of
commissioned officers (save flag-officers), except in the
proportion of one promotion 1 ,r every three vacancies
which may be made by the removal b) atb, dismissal,or
other causes, of officers from the effective lists of each
rank kept at this office; death or court-martial vacancies
liable to be filled up by Commanders•in-Chief abroad
not being'reckoned.'

What, Sir, is the true 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 he promoted by the
board. Practically we all knew, before this minute
was that the First Lord promoted whom he
pleased, though occ3sioredly ell officer, for long and
distinguished services, slipped in ; but this minute is
an open avowal of the fact, and when 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 for the private
and political friends of the First Lord.
I run not simple enough to suppose that, in a Go-
vernment like ours, interest will not be attended to;
hut 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 so often im-
pair the efficiency of our naval and military establish-
ments. Incessant are the effilts which all the holders
of Parliamentary influence make during the tranquillity
of peace to gut their connexions and dependents elevated
to situations which they are frequently incompetent to
fill. During the danger and excitement of war Govern-
ments 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 on 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 head 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 devolv-
ing on them. Thus while democratic clamour starves
down the establishment to a ruinously low standard in
point of amount, aristocratic cupidity paralyzes 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 thre3 years of the war
of 1756, during the whole of the American contest,
during the first four years of the Revolutionary contest,
and in the dreadful campaign of Affghanistan in 1540,
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 legacy was left,
and how far those who left that legacy 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—
captains, 858 ; commanders, 918 ; lieutenants, 3,550.
In the beginning of November, 1830, when they went
out of office, there were—

Removals. Promotions.
Captains .... 64
Commanders .... 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 pi:Ant 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—

Removals. Promotions.
Captains ....
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 Lord de Grey came into
office. He had hardly time to look about him when
he was succeeded by Lord Auckland, and he again
by Lord Minto. Three First Lords within a year !
Napoleon said one bad general was better than two
good ones. I may say with him, one bad First Lord
is better than three good ; but, the great IVbig and
Tory families who rule this country are of a different
opinion. In 1835 there were

Promotions.
Captains 25 ... 12
Commanders ... 42 17
Lieutenants .. 74 32
From 1836 until September, 1841, when the
Tories returned to office, there were—

Removals.

Captains ..
Commanders
Lieutenants

Removals.
... 187
... 262
.. 717

Promotions.
138
229
417

The promotions, it will be seen, very much exceed
one in three. Syria and China were the excuse for
this; bur, in war, no such promotions took place,
even for general actions.

According to a return furnished by the Admiralty,
promotions in war time were as follows :

For the battle of the Ist of J une, 33 lieutenants
were made commanders.

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

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

Trafalgar, 5 commanders were made captains; 28
ieutenants, commanders; 27 midshipmen, lieu-
tenant!.

St. Domingo, 1 commander, 7 lieutenants, 8 mid-
shipmen.

And at the peace promotion 68 commanders, 133
lieutenants, and 861 midshipmen were promoted.
When the Tories came into office, in 1841, they
found on the Navy List—captains, 701; c3mmun-
ders, 772; lieutenants, 2,718. They finihhed the
year 1841 with a sweeping promotion, making 40
admirals, 53 captains, 93 commanders, and 123
lieutenants.

Syria and China again got the credit of this pro-
motion, though I do not believe a fourth part of those
promoted were on either station ; and, if they had
all been there, such a promotion was 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 ; so 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 question 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 proposed,
viz., to allow captains of 60 years of age, and within
100 of the top of the list, to retire with the rank and
pay of rear-admirals ; but the new board brought
forward a plan of their own, not nearly so good, and
allowed men of 50 to retire on 11. a day and 18s., and
to take their rank as admirals when those of the same
standing who remained on the active list became 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. 6d. to receive 1/. and 18s. 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 flag-list was limited to 150; 53 captains were
made retired admirals, to be reduced to 25 ; and 127
captains retired on 11. 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,
but 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
Commanders .. 110 ••• 73
Lieutenants .. 285 112
In 1849 there were—

Promotions.
Captains 20 ••• 12
Commanders .. 36 ••• 33
Lieutenants ... 107 .. 45
It will be seen that the Whigs have not attended to
the minute, or rather, when they exceeded it, they
called it a special promotion ; 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 vecretary's son of no great service.
I do not wish to be parsimonious of promotion, for
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 between men
who really deserve them and his political friends—no
one would complain of that ; but when promotion .
badly given, go it, generally is, it mum grgreat.

Removals.