THE ENGLISH MAIL.

West Coast Times, Issue 78, 2 December 1865, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE ENGLISH MAIL.

HOME TALK.

(From tho Home News.) , The Temple, Sept. 26. The most magnificent September ■within recollection has fairly cleared Xondon of all who are able to leave it, and although two millions and a half of human beings still inhabit the metropolis, the west end squares and streets exhibit a desolation that is said to be dopressing. I use the qualifying phrase, for though the usual address heads my letter, it is written from a village in the Highlands of Scotland. A person would liardly consider that he had complied Tvith the ordinary customs of society, and fitted himself to be received in the saloons in winter, if he had not during •the autumn buried himself somewhere out of the noiso of carriages, and tho reach of tho postman. I have run, as Jias been said, into the regions of those who call themselves aborigines, and who make a slight mistake in their pedigree, as happens in the case of many people . who do wear trousers. But we are not so plunged in obscurity and barbarism as not to know, by means of journal and telegram, what has happened all over the world, up to the last hour of writing. Many profound observations are made in these wilds as to the wonders of •sciences, and -as to what our ancestors would have said about the receipt' of news, flashed by electricity, in the heart of a Highland forest ; but as such •things have been said once or twice before, it may not be worth whilo to report them for* the antipodes. But truly there is little else to report. We are a happy people without any annals. There has been scarcely an incident worthy of note since I last wrote, Almost the single exception has been the sudden and resolute descent of tho Irish government upon the Fenian conspirators. A sort of coup d'etat has beon enacted. As usual, the authorities were in possession of all the secrets of these idiotic I plotters, and determined to make short |^ work with them. So one day the Dublin police executed a military movement, cut off the passes of the streets around a centre of Fenianism, burst into a house and captured a gang of disaffected folks, besides seizing newspapers, type, and manuscripts. The telegraph office was desired to send no news away on the subject, so that other Fenians in Cork and .elsewhere were not warned, and fell a proy to the law. Since that time some •non-resident traitors have been- taken, even as far as Sheffield, and it ia clear that the Government knows all that can be known. The proceedings do not appear to have been bungled in any way, .and the action of the executive has commanded universal applause. The prisoners will bo brought to trial under a special Irish law framed for dealing with such folk, but it is not supposed that any very heavy punishment will be inflicted. **" ' The ringleaders will have longish sentences of penal servitude, no doubt. Should a demonstration in their aid be attempted, of course circumstances will be changed, and sterner counsels will prevail, and if there is no such attempt, tho ridiculous feebleness of tho Fenian •organisation will be shown. The move ment, such as it is, appears to be confined to the lowest orders, or, if it bo otherwise,the superior men have managed to enshroud themselves in mystery. The only Fenian songs which havo found their way into print are the direst trash,beneath the average of a street ballad. I dare say that the arrests will produce some remarkably "tall talk" iv America, but I do not think that a Yankee squadron will bo despatched to the aid of tho stupid traitors. It rather belongs to tho foreign department than to this column to record that Earl Russell has had occasion to address a despatch to Austria and Prussia, in reply to tho announcement of their intentions in regard to Schleswig-Hol-steiu. He has deomccl it sufficient to bo coldly ironical, and to express satisfaction that tho arrangement for dealing with tho plunder is not intended to be permanent. It is difficult to say what else his lordship could have done, but the Conservatives, who would not have stirred a little finger in defence of Denmark had they been in office, taunt him with tameness, and urge that he ought to have emitted a despatch of fiery indignation. Something must be written every day of the recess, and abuse of Earl Russell is as easy a3 anything else. Tho health of Lord Palmerston, or rather his ill health, is a subject of moro interest. lam sorry to say that tho im.pression as to his condition is not very *P favorablo, though I know that absurd exaggerations are put forth. Still it is certain that ho has been very ill.- Bristol had invited him, and the whole of the west country was looking forward to a grand demonstration ; but Lord Palmarston, who had accepted tho invitation, has been obliged to excuse himself on tho score of gout, to tho intense disappointy ment of the important — and solf-impor- / taut — city. Many thero refuse to bclicvo that tho illness was really tho reason of '' his refusal, and allege that it would not have been respectful to Bristol to make speeches thero without giving an intimation of tho future policy of the Government, and perhaps a sketch of tho next Reform Bill, and that Lord T'alincrston, not being prepared to offor such explanations, preferred to bo unV7oll. This, I need hardly say, is tho

sheerest nonsense. If there is one man in England who never says moro than he feels it quite convenient to say, and yet easily extricates himself from the difficulty of telling nothing, it is Lord Palmerston. He would have gone to Bristol, if he had been able to do so. Mr Bright has chosen this time for informing tho country that Lord Palmerston is the only man who is at once able and willing to betray the causo of Reform. It may bo thought that a cause that can bo fatally betrayed by a single man is in rather a bad way, and Mr Bright has been told in reply that there is no cause of Reform, that ho has all his work beforo him, and has to convince the educated class that reform is needed. Lastly, in connection with tho subject, it may be mentioned that Bristol applied to Mr Gladstone to como and supply the Premier's place, but Mr Gladstone is taking his holiday in Wales, and making speeches in behalf of his son, and therefore, and for other reasons, declined ; so unfortunate Bristol has had to fall back upon some local magnates, who are not illustrious. Reluctantly I introduce tho word "cattle disease" into a column which it is not intended should be disagreeable, but I have no option. Tho complaint still rages, and every one has a remedy to suggest and no remedy ia available ; the cattle of such persons as Miss Burdett Coutts and Lord Granvillc go down, in spite of all care and science, just as do tho beasts of tho most sordid and dirty farmer in England, and there seems no abatement of tho evil. Ireland has locked out our beeves, and the various continental places have done the same. Lord Roden thinks a fast-day will bo beneficial, and the Bishop of Oxford is charged with having sought to please the Court by describing the pest as a judgment on the nation for not subscribing more largely to tho monument to Prince Albert. Milk has been raised in price, and diminished in character. And though where I now am there has been no sign of the disease and the beasts in the field look splendidly, I observe that persons at table usually eschew beef, and fall upon mutton or poultry. Again has France triumphed on the raco -course. The victor of the Derby is the victor at Doncaster. Gladiateur has carried away the St. Leger. The owner of one of the other horses was proof against sentimentalism, and was not sufficiently impressed with a sense of tho desirability of pleasing our French friends in every way. Ho was rude and coarso enough to express his conviction that the terrible horse of Gaul was older than ho ought to be (liko Constance Kent) and to deniand proof. But as ho had no evidence on his own side, the stewards refused to 'enter into the question, and Mr. Graham, tho person in question, has been severely rebuked for his ill manners. This is all nonsense. Ido not suppose that the French turf- man is a bit worse than tho English turf-man, but I have no " call" to believe that he is v bit better, and nobody is so exceedingly green as to suppose that if a Britisher could insert a horse with a trifling advantage in the way of age iuto a raco, without being found out, he would not do so. It is a notorious fact that as the ages of horses date from the Ist of January in the year in which they are foaled, they somehow manago to be very seldom born in November, and never in December, for obvious reasons, and I dare say that in France tho sagacious animals are quite as widft awake. There is no imputation upon Count Lagrange ; his horse is probably exactly what it is said to bo, and the owner at all events, believes such to bo the case, but as to abusing Mr. Graham for bad taste and all that kind of thing, ono cannot help smiling at finding such ultra-deli-cacy on the racecourse, especially as several cases havo lately occurred in which tho plainest charges of unfair play have been urged with the most entire absence of possibility of mistake as to the meaning of tho accusation. However, Count Lagrangc's Parisian spirit has been finely touched to fine issues, and ho has presented fifty pounds to Doncaster charities, and specially bogged that such charities may be of a religious kind. We shall havo a chaplain to tho Grand Stand one of theso days, if such amenities go on. Not to bo outdono by us in courtesy, tho French have been erecting, at Boulogne, a statue to Jcnner, the inventor of vaccination. This is gratifying, yet it is, in a way, a roproach to ourselves ; for somo time ago wo erected, in Trafalgar square, a sitting statue to the samo great benefactor of mankind. The rest of tho statues there aro, as many of my readers will remember, Nelson mastheaded and waiting (and likely to wait) for Sir Edwin Landseor's lions, Gcorgo the Fourth on horseback in his nightshirt and slippers, Napier of tho Peninsular war, and Havolock. I know not which effigy is tho worst, but that is not tho matter now. I suppose that the veterans of tho Ilorso Guards and Admirality wore scandalised at tho idea of a mcro civilian, a doctor, having a place in such distinguished company, and moreover daring to bo seated whilo his betters woro standing. B 0 this as it may, the statuo ono morning was carted away, and when I next discovered it, tho great benefactor was placed beside a basin in Kensington Oi'irtlona, a diity looking plncc in which there Has nothing but rubbish, but into which, I

am told, water flows when tho turncock is in a good temper. Hero we stuck Jonncr, out of the way of observers. Tho French have given him a site where all, marked or unmarked by the disease ho subdued, may mark him. As hath been said, they are wise in their Jenneration, and do well to encourago revcrenco for other than the slayers of men. The " Times" contains an advertisement which will have interest for those who concern themselves with tho history of old London. Most of these know the Old Hummums 1 in Coventgarden market. The place has existed for the best part of a couple of centuries, though of course it has been rebuilt since its original opening. At first it was, as its name (a corruption of the Arabic " Hammam," a bagnio, or bath) implies, a place for sweating baths— we have now come round again to the Turkish bath, with which many silly persons are killing themselves. But it became a tavern, and at one time had *an undosirablo reputation. In Hogarth's picture, Midnight Modern Conversation, there is a drunken person, Ford, who died in tho house. There is a strange and grim ghost story connected with the death of this profligate. A waiter at the Hummums had been absent for some time, aud returned, not knowing Ford was dead. Going down tho cellar, he met Ford ! Going down again, ho met him a second time. When ho came up, he asked some of tho people of tho house what Ford could be doing down there. They told him of his death. He was seized with a raging fever, in which he lay for a long time. When he recovered, ho said that ho had a message to deliver to some woman fron Ford, but he was not to reveal what, nor to whom. Ho went out, and was followed, but was lost sight of near St. Paul's. Ho came back, and said that ho had delivered tho message, and that the woman, in torror, cried jout, " Then we are all undone." Dr. Johnson appears inclined to believe that there was something supernatural in tho tale. The house, since I have known it, has been a very unromantic place. In ono's younger days, when we stayed at parties until four or fivo in tho morning, I have occasionally sought a bed at tho Hummums, and for three hours of uneasy slumber, and a tolerable breakfast, I have often paid tho seven shilings ungrudgingly — the tariff now scorns to mo to have been high. But, high or low, I shall do it no more, for here is tho conclusion of the history of tho old house. " Old Hummums, Coveutgarden, London, 15th of September, 1865. Notice to customers. Tho proprietor begs to return sincere thanks for tho kind support enjoyed for so many years, and regrets to announce that tho hotel will be closed on Monday, tho 1 8th instant, in consequence of the expiration of the leaso, of which a renewal cannot be obtained, as the house is about to be pulled clown, the site being required by tho Duke of Bedford for the extension of Covent-garden market." If there are any books containing entries beyond mere account, John Timbs and Peter Cunningham ought to be at them. If all men who had visited the house had left their cards, some curious biographical hints would be obtained as to tho earlier lives of many serious and respectable folks. A casualty to a private person docs not usually come into this letter, but I may be permitted to montion with much regret that no less distinguished a person than last year's Senior Wrangler at Cambridge, Mr. Purkiss, has been drowned while bathing in the Cam. The list of his triumphs is remarkable ; ho had been already noticed and employed by Government, and his career promised to bo a most brilliant one. Ho was in what was deemed a safe place, and could swim, but ho went down among some weeds, and roso no more. It is thought that his death must bo attributable to some sudden seizure of an apoplectic character. When one reflects ou tho extraordinary capabilities required in a Senior Wrangler, and the vast and skilled labor that must have been employed by himself and his teachers to qualify him for the envied rank, it is difficult to repress a murmur that accident should tako such a man, when myriads of dolts escape in safety. Tho namo of Thomas Mooro had beon laid away with the other bright names of his day, a day as remarkablo for tho poetic genius it brought out as is our own for the utter absenco of that article. His works are, of course, in everybody's library, and not so much read as some of them, at least, deserve to be. His battles are theatrical affairs, and his manly sentiments are afflictingly liko thoso which wo used to applaud in tiresome dramas and now laugh at in vulgar burlesques. But in satire ho was both strong and graceful, and though his scholarship renders his writings unacceptable to tho present race of readers, who are frightfully ignorant of the classics, tho perfect finish and music of his lines must strike all whoso ears aro not too long. Nor* havo his love songs been equalled by any later writer. Personally, ho was, I fear, a great little humbug, inordinately fond of beingpetted and flattered by great folks, as becamo a fiery patriot and roviler of authorities. Ho has not been much spoken of lately. But tho death of his widow, tho "Bessy" of his diary and of somo of his songs, Ims recalled his memory. Tlim ostimablo lady \va« originally on the stage, and was a sister of tho wifo of William

Murray, tho Edinburgh manager. Moore married her when they were very young, and though no doubt her affection was a good deal tried by his erratic propensities, he sincerely loved her, and whether his entries were made for the public eye or not, ho was always bearing testimony to her goodness, beauty, and prudence. With her we lose the last link that connects this generation with tho glorious band of minstrels who delighted our fathers. Our own poems arc railways, electric telegraphs, monster Exhibitions, and " Proverbial Philosophy." «