Down Rabbit Holes and Up Family Trees

CRIMEAN RELICS.

Under this title, a series of three performances is announced at the St. James’s Theatre for Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday next. The performance on the first day is for the benefit of the Patriotic Fund; on the second for the Soldiers’ Daughters’ Fund, and on the third for the Nightingale Fund. “Crimean Relics” is intended to be an illustrated concert, in scena and costume, formed of numerous solos and concerted pieces, devoted to descriptions of the more important scenes and events connected with the late war. Mr. F. A. Wilson, by whom the words of the various songs are written, thus describes the object and purpose of the entertainment: –

“The object of my design was to comprise, in rapid sketch, a general review of our late Crimean campaigns, from the earliest scintillations of that patriotic spirit, which fired our whole nation at the first signal of hostilities, and which gradually augmented in proportion as the war progressed, until it attained that enthusiastic intensity which even the advent of peace has yet scarcely been able to extinguish. More particularly still did I seek in these pages to commemorate the warlike energy and loyal devotion which sudden service in the field so gloriously awoke in the breasts of our young army, and to paint in the vivid and impressive colours of verse and music those distinguishing traits of character and feeling which are habitual with the British soldier and sailor when undergoing the dangers and vicissitues [sic] of war; aiming at the same time to delineate many of the most prominent duties and details incidental to a camp, and all with as much faithful adherence as possible to matter of recorded fact and the simple truth of nature. … I was fain to recur to a convenient expedient, familiar with the dramatists of Grecian antiquity, namely, that of supplying the lapse of time, through the expository medium of choral narration; an artifice borrowed by our transcendant Shakspeare [sic], as we find it exemplified in the person of Time in his historical drama of ‘Henry V,’ in which he introduces an expositor in the character of Gower, whose name I have adopted in the present poetical review of the ‘Crimean Campaigns.’ No other nation, perhaps, possesses so rich a treasury of inherent melody as England and her sister realms, &c.; a simple music, then, as Nature inspires it in our own native home, and as it is familiar to hearts and ears in our manly British ranks and forecastles, constitutes the foundation, or rather the spirit, of the various original melodies connected with the present poems, although I have endeavoured to enhance their character by such elevation and largeness of style as will, I hope, render them acceptable to the elegant and no ineffective material for a novel and impressive entertainment.”

The songs are spirited, and their sentiment such as will not fail to command the sympathies of an English audience. The events and incidents of the campaign selected for illustration are interesting; the music is by some eminent composers; the poem and music will be rendered by “the most efficient vocalists and lecturers;” the band and chorus are to be efficient, and the whole entertainment promises to be successful and attractive. ¹²

MR. W. RUSSELL’S LECTURES.

Yesterday evening, in the presence of an audience as numerous as on Monday, Mr. W. Russell resumed the narrative of his Eastern expedition, beginning at the pause, or, as he calls it, the “settled stillness,” that followed the battle of the Alma, and ending with the affair of Balaklava. As he had now entered completely upon his important topic, there was less of light introductory matter than in the first lecture, and his description of the grave events of which he was a witness left little room for the details of his own personal inconvenience.

An encomium on the magnanimity of the English to their fallen foes was followed by a lamentation that the advantage gained by the victory of the Alma was not more speedily followed up. Mr. Russell would not venture to throw blame on any party, but asserted that future historians would decide through whose fault so brilliant a victory led to no result, and the scattered masses of the Russians were allowed to collect and renew their opposition to the allies. Delay – procrastination had, he said, been the characteristic of the war from the beginning to the end, and was always reappearing in some new form. The departure from the Alma afforded opportunity for a harrowing description of the masses of dead and “acres” of wounded left behind, while something of the ludicrous was mingled with his account of the condition in which a village on the Katcha had been found, after it had been demolished by the Cossacks. Once it might have been compared to some fashionable watering-place in the south of England, now it was a motley mass of ruins and articles of luxury, heaped together in grotesque disorder. A broken grand piano on which an English officer played “God save the Queen,” beneath a picture of the Russian Emperor, into whose mouth some one had irreverently thrust a cabbage stump, was an excellent little Hogarthian episode in the general picture. Unfortunately, fruit was plentiful and accessible as well as upholstery, in this melancholy place, and a re appearance of the cholera in the army was the result of an imprudent participation in the bounties of nature. It was in the neighbourhood of the Katcha that Mr. Russell was himself taken ill, and he touchingly averted to the emotions he experienced when, lying on the ground exhausted, he saw the troops march past him without any one stopping to offer him assistance, till a benevolent drummer proved an honourable exception to the rest. To the common belief that was developes [sic] the finest feelings of our nature he was by no means disposed to give his assent. The first sight of Sebastopol as the army approached the Tchernaya on its way from the Alma was made especially impressive by the countenance of the Tartar who pointed it out, and denoted by his awe-stricken manner that yonder was the stronghold of the Russian oppressor.

The story of the march to Balaklava was enlivened by a variety of amusing anecdotes; but the most important remark was to the effect that the English were “jockeyed” by the French through the whole of the movement, the latter always keeping to the right of the former, and being, therefore, always guarded by the sea and the fleet. Nor was it in this respect only that the French had the advantage. When the landing of the artillery began they were the first, and they always, in fact, “gave time” to their allies. As for the artillery which was used in the siege, Mr. Russell admitted that it was considerable for Woolwich and for a people in which a faction was opposed to the military defences of the country, but that measured by the strength of Sebastopol its deficiency was positively disgraceful. In the siege operations Mr. Russell considered that the English showed their superiority to the French; indeed, the apparently taught the French how to construct magazines proof against the shells of the enemy. The charge of the cavalry at Balaklava was described with singular animation, and the lecturer, conquering a certain nervousness which had from time to time been apparent in the earlier part of his course, followed the movements of the English with all the fluency of enthusiasm, and communicated his own feelings to his hearers. The “Light Brigade,” he contended, was not lost, but would live for ever in the memory of Britons as a noble monument of that high sense of duty that disregards even the first law of nature – self-preservation.

To-morrow (Saturday) Mr. Russell will bring his narrative to a conclusion. ¹³

MR. W. RUSSELL’S LECTURES.

On Saturday evening the interesting narrative that has so much occupied the attention of the public was brought to its termination.

The inconveniences endured at Balaklava, the high price charged for the necessaries of life, and the indifferent quality of the articles so dearly purchased were set forth in the early part of this third division of the narrative; the position of Mr. Russell himself, using gunpowder and water for ink, and writing with a quill plucked from the only goose in the camp, forming a ludicrous symbol of the general state of things. The “brilliant little victory” gained by Sir De Lacy Evans over a reconnoitring part of Russians came in as an episode in the story of Balaklava, and the lecturer dwelt on it with the more emphasis as he said that it had never received its due share of honour or reward. The battle of Inkermann was a difficult subject to treat from the fact that it really admitted of no description, being composed, as Mr. Russell remarked, of isolated conflicts, perpetual rallies, and “duels” between individuals. Nevertheless, he pursued these disjointed details with great accuracy, and then, after admitting the greatness of the victory, declared that it afforded no cause for rejoicing, obtained, as it had been, at the cost of so much valuable life. However, not to countenance the Russian version of the tale, according to which the French and English suffered more severely than their enemy, he described a caricature circulated in the country of the Czar as a satire on the false statements of the Russian newspapers. A mob of soldiers presents itself at the celestial gate, representing that it is composed of the Russian soldiers who fell at Inkermann, but is repelled by St. Peter, who regards his applicants as imposters, on the ground that they number several thousands, whereas, according to the newspapers, only a few hundreds were killed. The barbarity exercised by the Russians towards the wounded on the battle-field had the effect of deadening the feelings of humanity naturally inherent in the British soldier, and this moral degeneracy was illustrated by an anecdote, half comic, half horrible, of a dying Russian, who was on the point of being buried alive by some English soldiers, simply because his case was hopeless.

The heavy gales that tormented the little army (now reduced to about 15,000) in the autumn furnished matter for some grotesque description, which soon deepened into a gloomy picture of the pestilence that lasted with all its details of filth and wretchedness till the road from Balaklava was commenced. Occasion was here taken to advert to the horrors of Scutari, and the zeal of “the gentleman who had the administration of the funds confided to a newspaper” for the relief of the sick and wounded received an especial acknowledgment. The despairing listlessness that preceded the final operations, and was checkered by desertion from the army of the allies to that of the Russians, was lamented by Mr. Russell as many similar cases of procrastination had been lamented before. If the French refused to commence the assault earlier, why, he asked, did the English always yield to the refusal? He had, indeed, heard of regrets expressed by the French that they were always kept back from the assault, but on this subject he was a thorough unbeliever. The “affairs” of the Mamelon and the Redan occupied most of the remaining portion of the lecture, and the description of the unfortunate assault of the latter formed, perhaps, the most interesting episode of the whole narrative. Force, accuracy, and vivacity were combined. The “tiger-spring” of the French upon the Malakhoff, which was the concluding achievement of the tale, came as a contrast in every respect to the description of the assault on the Redan. The lecturer was in the midst of one affair, and recorded his immediate impressions. In the second the manner in which a distant occurrence gradually revealed itself to the mind of spectators watching the course of events with painful interest was finely described.

So great has been the success of Mr. Russell’s lectures that they will be repeated at the same rooms (Willis’s) on the afternoons of the 23^d and 28^th inst. and the 1^st of June. The subscribers to the second series may be promised even a greater treat than that presented to the patrons of the first. Although a thorough proficient in descriptive writing, Mr. Russell was a complete novice in the art of lecturing when he mounted his rostrum on Monday last, and his discourse during the past week have been to him an initiation into a new mystery. Hence, while the public has watched with anxiety the progress of events in the Crimea, the friends of Mr. Russell have with scarcely less anxiety watched the progress of the lecturer himself. With infinite delight did this kindly little party perceive that the nervousness and hesitation in delivery which had been noticed on the Monday, and still more on the Thursday, had almost entirely disappeared on Saturday. When he resumes his series on Saturday next he will have passed through a noviciate [sic] during which he has been aided by the counsels of the best practical critics that the world could afford, – men who were acquainted with him personally, and could compare his manner in the lecture-room with his manner in private society; men who had witnessed the same events as himself, and could constantly recall old pleasantries to his memory; men who have been the leading minds in entertainments that have attracted thousands, and who contributed largely from the stores of their experience. It is not too much to say that all the choice spirits whose names could be used as so many pass-words at every institution or assembly connected with literature, art, or amusement, have been as much interested in Mr. Russell’s success as they could have been had their own private advantage depended upon it. ¹⁴

SPURGEON AND THE PULPIT.
(From the British Quarterly Review.)

SPURGEON is a notability. He filled Exeter-hall with eager listeners for months together. He has since done the same in the great Music-hall of the Surrey-gardens, though spacious enough to receive 9000 persons. Hitherto the prophets have been in the wrong. The feeling does not subside. The crowds gather even more than before. The “common people” are there, as at the first; but with them there are now many who are of a much higher grade. Professional men, senatorial men, ministers of state, and peers of the realm are among Mr. Spurgeon’s auditory. These are facts that cannot be questioned. That there is something very extraordinary in them everyone must feel. How is the matter to be explained? Mr. Spurgeon’s origin and ecclesiastical connexion do not solve the mystery. There was nothing in that to favour a success of this nature. He is not only a Dissenter coming up from among Dissenters, but his sect is one of the straightest of them all. In his antecedents we find no traces of academic fame and promise, no high ecclesiastical patronage. The great ushers of successful conventionality amongs [sic] us made no way for him. He comes direct and openly from what John Foster called the “morass of Anabaptism.” Nevertheless, there he is, – a man – and a very young man, too, who has broken through, or overleaped, all impediment of that sort. In that fact there is not only something remarkable, but something pleasant and hopeful. We must add there is nothing in Mr. Spurgeon’s presence to account for his success. When we picture to our mind the noble and venerable figure of Latimer, we cease to marvel that the quaintness and homeliness of the English and of the illustrations pervading his sermons should have fallen with great effect upon his hearers. That lofty form, that noble brow, those finely-chiselled features, and the play of intelligence and humour ever passing like cloud and sunshine over that countenance, are enough to account for a great deal. Whitfield, too, rose like Saul among his fellows, and seemed born to leadership. The same was true of Edward Irving. But Mr. Spurgeon has literally nothing of this sort to help him. His figure is short, and chubby, and rather awkward than otherwise. For so young a man there seems to be strong tendency in him to grow stout, and should he live another twenty or thirty years, he must take care, or he may be classed among the people who are sometimes described as being nearly as broad as they are long. He knows nothing of the æsthetics of dress; everything of that sort about him is common-place, verging upon the vulgar. His features, too, have a round, homely Saxon cast, such as would lead you to regard him as capable of a rude strength of purpose, or a dogged power of endurance, but as not likely to apprehend purposes of a high and really intellectual complexion. He is a veritable Saxon in the groundwork of his nature, both physical and mental, but he has nearly everything from nature, scarcely anything from the usual processes of self-nature. We must not, therefore, look to culture as giving Mr. Spurgeon his power over men. In metaphysics, theology, in all matters where a trained power of discrimination would become conspicuous, his mind is in a very crude condition. If you submit to his influence, accordingly, it is not because you are sensible to the discipline of his touch, for you feel that you could amend not a little that falls from him. You listen, but it is not because you are charmed by the accuracy of the statements that are made, nor because the illustrations brought to the subject are such as to indicate that the preacher is a man rich in general knowledge. No – the charm must be somewhere else. Mr. Spurgeon’s head is but poorly disciplined, and his knowledge has no pretention to fulness. After saying thus much, we shall, perhaps, be expected to say that there is nothing like original or profound thought in Mr. Spurgeon. He has no mission to lift the veil from undiscovered truth. He never gives forth conceptions that afford the slightest promise of such power. Of this fact every one must be aware. If Mr. Spurgeon has power over cultivated minds – and he certainly has – it is not because he himself is a man of taste, in the conventional meaning of the term. In this respect, indeed, the preacher is said to be improved and improving. But the distance between his manner, and all our long-cherished notions about clerical propriety, and the becoming in the pulpit, must be admitted to be very great. Certainly, if people of taste are found about him, it is not because he is always careful not to offend in that form. Latimer, indeed, dealt much in the home-spun, both in language and in allusion. But the preacher in that case was known to be a scholar, abreast with all the learning and subtle speculation proper to his profession. Edward Irving, too, was a man of high general taste and knowledge, and supposed, on that ground, that he had a special mission to the educated, the literary, and the upper classes. But in the case of Mr. Spurgeon, the worship rendered him seems to bear a strong resemblance to that paid by the ancients to some of the rudest images of their gods – the sculpture was barbarous, all Greek taste might have been shocked by it, only it had its traditions, it was as old as the piety of simpler and better times, and it had some day fallen down from heaven. Much has been said about Mr. Spurgeon’s voice, as though the secret of his power lay in a great measure there. He can preach loud, and to say that, it is thought, is to say a great deal. It is, in fact, to say nothing. The question is not about a man who has voice enough to make 10,000 hear, but about a man who has attraction enough to bring 10,000 people together to listen. Does every man who can speak so as to make a large congregation hear, get a large congregation to hear him? But what we mean to say concerning Mr. Spurgeon’s voice is, that while it is good in some respects, it is far from being the voice we should have expected in so successful a public speaker. It takes a clear, sound bell-like ring along with it, but it has no rich tones either of loftiness or tenderness. In these respects, the voice of Whitfield must have been immeasurably superior. In point of compass and richness the voice of Mr. Spurgeon is not to be mentioned in comparison with that of Mr. James, of Birmingham, or with that of Dr. Raffles; and to compare his power in this way with that of the late agitator, O’Connell, would indeed be to compare small things with great. The voice which fills the Music-hall at the Surrey-gardens so equally, is successful to that extent from its very defects. It is a comparatively level voice. Its great attributes are distinctness and force. Were it to soar at times with the grand, and to descend at times with the pathetic, as the voice of an orator of the highest order would be sure to do, the hearing would not be so uniform as at present. In short, while Mr. Spurgeon has made the pulpit more attractive than any living man, he has done so by means of a voice which can scarcely be called oratorical. The problem of Mr. Spurgeon’s popularity, therefore, is still to be dissolved. Everything in his origin, and in his ecclesiastical connexion, seemed to be opposed to it. His presence could do nothing in his favour – it was, in fact, against him. No one can attribute his success to his culture, or to any unusual grasp of thought, or more than very partially to his voice. What is it, then, that has given him this power? The first secret of his success, we think will be found in his elocution. It is wanting in the qualities above-mentioned. But it is singularly natural. There is not a trace of pulpitism in it. The speaker might be a Chartist leader, addressing a multitude on Kennington Common, so complete is the absence of everything from his tone and manner that might have reminded you of church or chapel. The style of the preacher is for the most part purely colloquial. It is one man talking to another. Even when his enunciations become the most impassioned they are still natural. Rare – very rare – is such an elocution among preachers. Once upon a time, an elder Scotchwoman gave her grandson the newspaper to read, telling him to read it aloud. The only reading aloud the boy had been much in the way of hearing was at the parish kirk, and he began to read in the exact tone in which he had so often heard the minister read. The good lady was shocked at the boy’s profanity, and giving him a box in the ear, exclaimed – “What! dost thou read the newspaper with the Bible twang?” Oh that Bible twang; surely the arch-enemy must have invented it as the thing wherewith to thin off the number of church-goers, or to send those to sleep who go. Would, however, that this mistake between saying a thing and singing it were unknown south of the Tweed. Nonconformists and Episcopalians among us are largely infected by it. The extemporaneous mode of preaching so general among Nonconformists, is much more favourable to a natural manner, than the reading of sermons, so common among Churchmen. Many Nonconformists, however, have much to learn in this respect before they can hope to become agreeable public instructors; and with regard to many of our clergy, from the every-recurring notes with which they begin and close their sentences, one is tempted to think they must have been influenced in this respect by their long familiarity with Latin hexameters. Certainly, we get the same key-note at the beginning of a sentence, the same monotonous level through the middle, be the middle long or short, and the never-failing dactyl and spondee at the end. Is it any marvel if what is perfunctory and artificial in its tones, should be deemed perfunctory and artificial altogether? Mr. Spurgeon’s complete exemption from mannerism of this sort has more to do than many people suspect with the success which has marked his career. The style of the preacher is another element bearing a conspicuous relation to his success. His language is for the most part good idiomatic Saxon. He speaks to the people, not in the language of books, but in their own language. He gives them many a short treatise on divinity, but it is not a treatise for the press, it is simply so much talk about the matter. His diction, and his whole manner of setting forth thought, are more from the market-place than from the cloister. No man or woman can fail to understand him. It is one of themselves gifted enough to teach them. In this there is so much of nature, especially when compared with the dull platitudes and elaborate obscurities with which these good people have been long familiar elsewhere, that the pleasure they feel under this new dispensation of things is surely not difficult to comprehend. * * * We must not forget to state that much should be attributed to the freshness and earnestness of feeling with which the preacher commends his message to the reception of his hearers. Mr. Spurgeon is a believer. His mind is fully made up as to what it is like to believe like a Christian, and to feel and act like a Christian. In his language the case is so and so. It is no otherwise, it can be no otherwise. God is God, let the atheist say what he will. God is never away from his world – he is always in it, and ruling it. Some men may teach otherwise, but such teachings are a lie – a monstrous lie. Those who do battle for God’s truth in God’s world are never alone. They are always surrounded by chariots of fire, and horsemen of fire. The age of miracles has passed, but the age of the supernatural has not passed. The Gospel comes from the supernatural. It is supernatural. It does its appointed work only by the presence of the supernatural. The world is not fatherless, the church is not deserted – never has been, never shall be. The directness, emphasis, and heartiness with which Mr. Spurgeon gives utterance to his belief in such truths stands in edifying contrast with the dull, conventional, make-believe droning to which we have often to listen on such topics. Conviction is parent to conviction – feeling is parent to feeling. As it is with a speaker in these respects, so will it be to a large extent with his auditory. * * * Here comes a man – no Whitfield in voice, in presence, in dignity, or genius, who, nevertheless, as with one stroke of the hand, sweeps away all this sickly sentimentalism – this craven misbelief. ²⁷

CHALLENGE TO MR. SPURGEON. – The Rev. W. Vernon, who was, it appears, among Mr. Spurgeon’s hearers on Sunday last, when he indulged, as alleged by Mr. Vernon, in an unprovoked attack upon the Church, and upon her views on baptism, and in some “ill-timed jocularity on immersion or rather non-immersion,” has publicly challenged Mr. Spurgeon to an open discussion on the question of Infant Baptism, together with that of immersion. ²⁸

Augt. 26. Took N.B. Debentures to Village & at 9.40 left Paddington by express Lu, C.A.D.D., Laura, Mr. C.M. & I. Col. Mayow got in at Highbridge. Arrived at Starcross Station 3 & at Kenton Cottage 3. Mrs. Furse, Miss L. Marshall, Miss Agnes & Mabel, Master Alfred. Walked in garden. Whist.

Augt. 27. Kenton Cottage. Mrs. Furse. Lu, C.A.D.D. & I drove to Mamhead (Sir L. Newman) looked at Church. Early dinner & large Evening Party.

Augt. 28. The Misses Collins (3) called. Letter from Louisa. Note from C.G. & Times. Lu wrote Louisa & I to my Mother. We all went by railway to Torquay Regatta. On board the Rev. Mr. Sayer’s Yatch [sic]. Back at Kenton about 8 p.m.

Augt. 29. Drove to Chudleigh Rock Pic Nic.

Augt. 30. Sunday. Went to Church twice. Revd. Mr. Dames. Walked thro’ Powderham Park, Castle Belvedere.

Rev. Arthur Longworth Dames (1804-1887), Vicar of Kenton.

The Powderham Estate has been the seat of the Courtenay family as Earls of Devon since the late 1300’s. They had longstanding political, business, and social connections with the Marshall and Benthall families.

Thomas Peregrine Courtenay had been a contemporary of Charles’s father, William Marshall (1780-1828), and had become M.P. for Totnes with the assistance of the Marshall, Benthall and Adams families. He played a part in supporting Charles and his siblings after they were orphaned in 1828.

Augt. 31. We all drove thro’ Exmouth. Called on the Misses Collins (3). Alphington to Exeter. Saw the Cathedral; called on Mrs. Sands, Mrs. Stevens, Miss Sands.

Sept. 1. Walked, & after early dinner, sailed to Exmouth & then walked home.

Sept. 2. Drove Kenton to Starcross, rail to Totness. Pic Nic to Buckland & Home Chase.

Sept. 3. Slept last night at Seven Stars Totness. We all went to Dartmouth. Dined at Mr. W. Bentall. Train to Starcross. Rev. Mr. Nason [sic] joined at Teignmouth.

Sept. 4. After an early dinner, we all went to Dawlish & called on Mrs. Pennell.

Sept. 5. Left Kenton & Starcross at 11.50 a.m. for Exeter & by express thence to London. Lu, C.A.D.D., Laura, C.M. & I dined at the Village at ½ past 7.

Nov. 18. Dined with Mr. & Mrs. Chas. Marshall at Drapers Hotel. Mr. & Mrs. W.M., Agnes & Alfred, Mr. Boyd, W.M. of No. 19. We all went to Julien’s [sic] Concert.

Decr. 7. C.M., C.A.D.M., Capt. M., Mr. & Mrs. W. Marshall, Clapham dined with us.

Decr. 10. Lu, L.M.D. , Laura, W.M., Charles, Alfred, Capt. M, W.M. & Mrs. W.M. (No. 19) & I dined with Charles & Charlotte at Drapers Hotel Sackville St. being their last day in London before leaving for Australia. E. No. 11 Char St.

THE ROYAL MARRIAGE.

At an early hour on Monday morning, the note of preparation for the royal marriage was everywhere noticeable in the aristocratic quarters of the town – that is, as far as a dense fog would permit of observation. Belgravia was especially alive; the smoke was ascending from the chimneys at an earlier hour than usual, and the stable-yards were everywhere in a bustle, preparing horses and carriages to bear their several parts in the ceremonies of the day. Nor were the tradesmen’s quarters of the town altogether quiet, for, although many shops were closed, and no lawyers were seen wending their way towards the courts at Westminster – disbarred, to-day, to do honour to the occasion – gas fitters and decorators were busy at work, especially at the West End – Pall Mall, Regent Street, Haymarket, Piccadilly, St. James’s Street, the Strand, and thereabouts – making provision for an illumination at night. As early as nine o’clock, hundreds of well-dressed persons began to assemble, in St. James’s Park, especially in the line of route from Buckingham Palace to St. James’s, along which her Majesty, her family, and the royal guests were to pass to the Chapel Royal. As the morning advanced, the carriages of the nobility, British and foreign, who had places assigned to them in the Chapel Royal, without previously assembling at Buckingham Palace, came rattling along, their magnificent horses and splendid liveries, with their lady occupants – “all so bright and so fair” – exciting the admiration of the spectators. By 12 o’clock, the Mall of the park between Buckingham Palace and St. James’s Palace, became crowded, as, perhaps, it never was crowded before. A line was kept for the royal cortége, by the Life Guards, and the people, who crowded every other foot of ground along the route, were entertained by the music of the military bands. The crowd was, for the most part, good-humoured and orderly, and consisted of a large proportion of the well-dressed portion of the community. Every place where standing-room could be had was occupied; and the persons who had provided seats in the background must have reaped a rich harvest. Many climbed up the trees, and seated themselves on the branches, at the imminent risk of breaking their necks. A posse of police, under the command of Captain Labalmondière, were employed to preserve order, and to prevent the crowd from pressing forward. At the two principal points – the approaches to Buckingham Palace and the garden gate of St. James’s – the crush was dreadful, and the people, at times, paid no respect to the barriers of rope, or to the entreaties and commands of the police. Several of the more noisy and determined of the delinquents were either taken into custody, or thrust off the ground altogether.

Shortly before twelve o’clock, a herald and a trumpeter, with a few Life Guardsmen, galloped out of the principal gateway at Buckingham Palace, and announced to the assembling the approach of a portion of the royal cortége. They were followed by fourteen royal carriages, the majority of which were occupied by the suite of the bridegroom and his royal relatives. In the last carriage, which was a magnificent state coach, drawn by gorgeously caparisoned horses, sat Prince Frederick William, and his royal father, the Prince of Prussia. The Prince, who smiled and bowed most graciously, received an enthusiastic greeting. After the interval of a few minutes, another party of heralds, pursuivants, and trumpeters, with a body of Life Guardsmen, made their appearance; then came nine royal carriages, containing the great officers of state, the principal members of the royal household, the Prince Consort and the King of the Belgians, the Duchess of Kent, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, the Princess Mary, the Prince of Wales, and the young Princes and Princesses, with the young and beautiful bridesmaids. Then came a magnificent state coach, drawn by cream-coloured horses, containing the observed of all observers – the Queen and the Royal Bride elect; and the enthusiasm of the people found vent in acclamations so hearty as must have assured the Sovereign, that her daughter had the prayers and blessings of the people.

ST. JAMES’S PALACE.

In front of the garden door, a spacious portico, 40 yards long, had been erected, covered in at the sides, and lined with crimson cloth. The old door of the palace had been considerably enlarged. This was the entrance reserved for the Queen and her royal guests. A window on each side had been converted into a door-way, through which the suites entered, so as to meet the Queen at the foot of the staircase. The reception was loyal and enthusiastic. The grand staircase had been re-gilt, as also the balustrades; and the oaken top of the railing had been covered with crimson velvet and silk fringe, which added considerably to the beauty of the general effect, while the sombre tone of the decorations was relieved and contrasted by the colour of the walls and pilasters. The room, which is used as a retiring-room, in the Drawing Room season, on the left on ascending the stairs, was fitted as a boudoir for the Princess Royal, having been entirely re-decorated, cream-colour picked out with gold; and converted into a light and beautiful apartment. The hangings are of the richest crimson damask, and the walls are filled with costly mirrors, so as to considerably increased the apparent size of the chamber. The royal cortége passed to the right though the Throne Room, and what is generally known as Queen’s Anne’s, but more familiarly as the “Crush Room.” At the end of this, a number of seats, rising one above another, as in an amphitheatre, had been erected, on which were seated those among the nobility who had received invitations to witness the procession, including the youth and beauty of our female aristocracy, in full Court dress, looking as joyous as young people always look at a wedding party, and as magnificently radiant as the youthful female aristocracy always manage to make themselves appear. The passage through the Armoury and the Tapestry Room was lined with similar seats, covered with scarlet cloth and trimmed with yellow, court arrangements, as regards attire, being observed in all the apartments, as regards attire, being observed in all the apartments, till the Colour Court was reached. Here the seats secured decidedly the best view of the whole ceremonial, save what took place within the chapel. On the staircase which descends to the passage to the courtyard, a number of mirrors were introduced, which, though detracting somewhat from architectural effect, proved to be most welcome to many of the ladies. The passage at the end of the flight of stairs leads into the courtyard, a portion of which was covered in, and fitted with seats. The building had a substantial and elegant appearance, the stone pillars being converted into marble. In Queen Anne’s room, the first and largest of the state apartments, through which the procession had to move, there were thirteen rows of seats, rising in a theatrical form, on which a most select and aristocratic public, chiefly consisting of young ladies, paid their respects to royalty. Her Royal Highness the Princess Royal was attended by the following ladies, as bridesmaids, all being about her own age: Lady Caroline Villiers, daughter of the Earl of Clarendon; Lady Catherine Hamilton, daughter of the Marquis of Abercorn; Lady Victoria Noel, daughter of the Earl of Gainsborough; Lady Susan Clinton, daughter of the Duke of Newcastle; Lady Cecilia Molyneux, daughter of the Earl of Sefton; Lady Cecilia Lennox, daughter of the Duke of Richmond, Lady Susan Murray, daughter of the Earl of Dunmore; and Lady Emma Stanley, daughter of the Earl of Derby.

The Queen’s dress was of peach colour moire antique, with Honiton lace and peach coloured train of Lyons velvet, the lace flounces being the same as worn by the Queen at her own wedding. The dress is the manufacture of Spitalfields weavers, who are, at the moment, in a very distressed condition. The bridal costume of the Princess Royal was of rich white moire antique, with silver stripes, also of Spitalfields manufacture; the lace dress of exquisite Honiton cuipure, consisting of three flounces, the body being trimmed to match. The veil was of Honiton guipure lace, worn in a style completely novel in this country for bridal costume, and was attached to the head by magnificent Moorish or Spanish pins. The dress and veil were splendidly worked with the rose, shamrock, and thistle. The latter (according to the Court Circular), employed fifty girls for the last twelve months; it was a new style, entirely her Majesty’s suggestion, and the carrying out of the idea has the approbation of the Queen. We may here note, that the example set by the Queen and the Princess Royal, of patronising the looms of the Spitalfields weavers, was followed by many of the nobility and gentry. ⁴³

THE APPROACHING SOLAR ECLIPSE.

As one of the grandest astronomical phenomena of the century will be presented to us on Monday next, in the great eclipse of the sun, which has been computed to take place on that day, it may perhaps prove interesting to those who have not made themselves acquainted with the remarkable appearances which have been observed on former occasions of the kind, and which are undoubtedly calculated to impress the mind most forcibly with the stupendous grandeur of the universe, if we describe them as succinctly as possible, with a view to prepare the reader for what may be repeated now.

In general, the darkness which follows the total obscuration of the sun’s disc is very considerable though of course it is not absolute. The eclipse of the 17^th June, 1433, produced such an impression in England as to cause it to be remembered under the name of the “black hour.” The name of “Black Saturday” has, for the same reason, been given to the eclipse of 1598, and the eclipse of 1652 was known in Scotland as “Mirk Monday.” Dr. Halley describes very forcibly, in a communication to the Royal Society on the eclipses of 1715, the feelings which they inspired. He says, “I forbear to mention the chill and damp which attended the darkness of this eclipse, of which most spectators were sensible, and equally judges, nor shall I trouble you with the concern that appeared in all sorts of animals, birds, beasts, and fishes, upon the extinction of the sun, since ourselves could not behold it without some sense of horror.” In some eclipses bats have been known to fly about as at dusk, and swallows also and cage-birds put their heads under their wings. The colour of the sky on these occasions appears to have been that due to the transition from twilight to night, and stars known to be red have appeared white. It was in the eclipse of 1842 that a livid and painful aspect was imparted to surrounding objects; ad at Montpellier, in particular, these appearances were regarded as appalling. An owl left its retreat in the tower of St. Pierre, bats flew about, swallows disappeared, fowls went to roost, and the cattle stood still in the fields. During the same eclipse, flowers contracted their leaves, and a heavy dew fell at several places, among others at Vienna, Turin and Perpignan. The eclipse of Monday next will not be cum mora, or with duration of darkness, the conditions of which are, in general, that the centre of the moon must pass over that of the sun, and the apparent diameter of the moon be not less than that of the sun; but the foregoing appearances may be to some extent expected.

A few words with reference to dark glasses may also be useful. If tinted glasses be used, it would be well to have them of a few different shades of colour; the darkest to be used at the commencement of the obscuration, and the others as the gradual abstraction of the solar light will admit of less absorbent media being employed. The colour that should be preferred for the purpose is a neutral tint, known to opticians by the name of “London smoke.” Smoked glasses, however, have always been found to answer remarkably well, and a very good screen of this kind may be made as follows: – Take two pieces of smoked glass: turn their smoked sides towards one another, but prevent their coming into contact by inserting strips of thin paper between them at their edges. Lastly, bind their two edges together with the aid of any convenient adhesive substance. ⁴⁴

SOUTHAMPTON MAIL STEAM SHIPPING.
Peninsular and Oriental Company.

The Tagus left again on Tuesday afternoon, with the outward Peninsular mails, a full cargo, 400 sovereigns for Lisbon, and forty passengers, among whom were Commissary-General Drake, Mrs. Drake, and two daughters, Captain Ord, and Lieutenant Roberts, for Gibraltar. ⁴⁷