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August 28th

Died: Emperor Louis I of Germany, 'the Pious,' 876, Frankfort; Sir Francis Vero, distinguished military commander and author, 1608, Portsmouth; Hugo Grotius, eminent jurist, 1645, Rostock; Count Axel Oxenstiern, Swedish chancellor under Gustavus Adolphus, 1654; Charles Boyle, Earl of Orrery, celebrated antagonist of Bentley, 1731; John Hutchinson, mystic theologian, 1737, London; Leigh Hunt, poet, critic, miscellaneous writer, 1859, Putney; William Lyon Mackenzie, leader in the Canadian Rebellion of 1837, 1861, Toronto.

Feast Day: St. Hermes, martyr, about 132. St. Julian, martyr at Brioude. St. Augustine or Austin, bishop of Hippo, confessor, and doctor of the church, 430.

ST. AUGUSTINE

St. Augustine, usually styled 'the greatest of the fathers,' is held in about equal reverence by Catholics and Protestants. Calvinists and Jansenists especially have resorted to his writings for sympathy and authority.

Augustine was an African, being born at Tagaste, a city of Numidia, in 354. His father was a pagan, and his mother, Monica, a Christian of earnest piety, who longed with exceeding desire for her son's conversion. In his boyhood, falling seriously ill, he desired to submit to the rite of baptism, but, the danger being averted, the rite was deferred. As he grew up, his morals became corrupted, and he lapsed into profligate habits. The perusal, in his nineteenth year, of Cicero's Hortensius (a work now lost), made a deep impression on his mind, and stirred within him aspirations after a nobler life. At this juncture he became a convert of the Manichaeans, and for nine years an able advocate of their opinions.

The Manichaeans were a sect founded by one Manes about 261. He confounded the teaching of Christ with that of Zoroaster, and held that the government of the universe was shared by two powers, one good and the other bad: the first, which he called Light, did nothing but good; the second, which he called Darkness, did nothing but evil. Meanwhile, Augustine taught grammar at Tagaste, and then rhetoric at Carthage, but growing disgusted with the vicious character of his pupils, he determined to go to Rome, much against the will of his mother. In Rome he attracted many scholars, but finding them no better than on the other side of the Mediterranean, he removed to Milan, where he was elected professor of rhetoric.

The intrepid Ambrose ruled at that time as arch-bishop in Milan, and by his ministry Augustine was delivered from the Manichaean heresy. The vacation of 386, he spent at the country-seat of his friend Verecundus, in the diligent study of the Scriptures; and, in the Easter of the following year, he, with his son Adeodatus, a youth of singular genius, was baptized by Ambrose. Shortly after, his faithful mother, rejoicing in the fulfilment of her prayers, visited Milan, and persuaded him to return to Africa, but on their way thither she fell sick, and died at Ostia. Augustine, associating himself with eleven pious men, retired to a villa outside the walls of Hippo, and passed three years in monastic seclusion, in fasting, prayer, study, and meditation. He entered the priesthood in 391; and at a church council he spoke with such vigour and learning that he was, with common consent, raised to the bishopric of Hippo in 396.

In defence and illustration of the Christian faith, his tongue and pen during the remainder of his life were incessantly engaged. The composition of his great work, De Civitate Dei, is believed to have occupied him seventeen years. In 430, the Vandals, having overrun Africa, laid siege to Hippo, and Augustine, an old man of seventy-six, prayed for death ere the city was taken. In the third month of the siege, on the 28th of August, a fever cut him off. When the city, some months after his death, was captured and burned, the library was fortunately saved which contained his voluminous writings—two hundred and thirty-two separate books or treatises on theological subjects, besides a complete exposition of the psalter and the gospels, and a copious magazine of epistles and homilies. The best account of Augustine is found in his Confessions, in which, with unflinching and sorrowful courage, he records the excesses of his youth and the progress of his life in Christ.

RESISTANCE TO FIRE

The Augustinian or Austin Friars took their name from the holy bishop of Hippo. Camerarius, in his Horae Subsecivae, tells a cruious story, relating to the decision of a controversy, between this brother-hood and the Jesuits. It appears that, one day, the father-general of the Augustinians, with some of his friars, was receiving the hospitality of a Jesuits' college; on the cloth being removed, he entered into a formal discourse on the super-excellence of his order, in comparison with that of the Jesuits; insisting particularly on the surpassing discipline of the friars, caused by their more stringent and solemn vows of obedience. The Augustinian, being very eloquent, learned, and a skilled debater, had the best of the argument; but the superior of the Jesuits, foreseeing the discussion, had prepared to meet his opponent in another fashion. Words, he replied, were mere wind, but he could at once give a decided and practical, if not miraculous proof, of the more implicit obedience and greater sanctity of the Jesuits. 'I shall be very glad to witness such a proof;' sneeringly replied the unwary Augustinian. Then,' said the Jesuit to one of his inferiors, 'Brother Mark, my hands are cold, fetch me some fire from the kitchen to warns them. Do not wait to put the burning coals in a chafing dish, but just carry them hither in your hands.' Mark gave a cheerful response, left the room, and immediately returned, to the surprise and dismay of the Augustinians, carrying burning coals of fire in his naked hands; which he held to his superior to warm himself at, and, when commanded, took then back to the kitchen-hearth. The superior of the Jesuits, then, without speaking, bestowed a peculiarly triumphant and inquiring look on the general of the Augustinians, as much as to say, will any of your inferiors do that for you? The Augustinian, in turn, looked wistfully on one of the most docile of his friars, as if he wished to command him to do the like. But the friar, perfectly understanding the look, and seeing there was no time for hesitation, hurriedly exclaimed: 'Reverend Father, forbear; do not command me to tempt God! I am ready to fetch you fire in a chafing dish, but not in my bare hands.'

The art or trick of handling fire with impunity has been so often practised by jugglers and mountebanks, during the last fifty years, that it has now lost its attraction as an exhibition; though at an earlier period it created great wonder, affording an ample remuneration to its professors. One Richardson, an Englishman, astonished the greater part of Europe by his tricks with fire; and, though a mere juggler, acquired a sort of semi-scientific position, by a notice of his feats in the Journal des Scavans for 1680. Evelyn saw this man, and gives the following account of his performances. Having called upon Lady Sutherland, he says: 'She made me stay dinner, and sent for Richardson, the famous fire-eater. He devoured brimstone on glowing coals before us, chewing and swallowing them; he melted a beer-glass, and eat it quite up; then taking a live coal on his tongue, he put on it a raw oyster, the coal was blown with bellows, till it flamed and sparkled in his mouth, and so remained till the oyster gaped and was quite boiled. Then he melted pitch and wax together with sulphur, which he drank down as it flamed. I saw it flaming in his mouth a good while; he also took up a thick piece of iron, such as laundresses use to put in their smoothing-boxes, when it was fiery hot, he held it between his teeth, then in his hand, and threw it about like a stone; but this, I observed, he cared not to hold very long.'

In ancient history, we find several examples of people, who possessed the art of touching fire without being burned. The priestesses of Diana, at Castabala, in Cappadocia, commanded public veneration, by walking over red-hot iron. The Hirpi, a people of Etruria, walked among glowing embers, at an annual festival held on Mount Soracte; and thus proving their sacred character, received certain privileges—among others, exemption from military service—from the Roman senate. One of the most astounding stories of antiquity is related in the Zenda-Vesta, to the effect that Zoroaster, to confute his calumniators, allowed fluid lead to be poured over his body, without receiving any injury. Yet M. Boutigny, the discoverer of the science of bodies in a spheroidal state, has amply proved in his own person the extreme easiness of the feat.

The fiery ordeals of the middle ages, in which accused persons proved their innocence of the crimes imputed to them, by walking blindfold among red-hot ploughshares, or holding heated irons in their hands without receiving injury, were always conducted by the clergy; who, no doubt, had sufficient knowledge of the trick to turn the result as best accorded with their own views. Richardi, queen of Charles le Gros of France, Cunegonda, empress of Germany, and Emma, mother of Edward the Confessor, all proved their innocence by the ordeal of fire. Albertus Magnus, after trial by ordeal had been abolished, published the secret of the art; which merely consisted in rubbing the hands and feet with certain compositions.

A Signora Josephine Girardelli, attracted most fashionable metropolitan audiences, in the early part of the present century, by her feats with fire. She stood with her naked feet on a plate of red-hot iron, and subsequently drew the same plate over her hair and tongue. She washed her hands in boiling oil; and placing melting lead in her mouth, after a few moments, produced it again solidified, and bearing the impression of her teeth.

M. Boutigny, in his work on the spheroidal state of bodies, and Mr. Pepper of the Polytechnic Institution, London, in an amusing lecture, have fully exemplified the principles on which these feats are performed. Some of them, however, being mere juggling tricks, are not for scientific explanation. For instance, the performer taking an iron spoon, holds it up to the spectators, to skew that it is empty; then, dipping it into a pot containing melted lead, he again spews it to the spectators full of the molten metal; then, after putting the spoon to his mouth, he once more shews it to be empty; and after compressing his lips, with a look expressive of pain, he, in a few moments, ejects from his mouth, a piece of lead, impressed by the exact form of his teeth. Ask a spectator what he saw, and he will say that the performer took a spoonful of molten lead, placed it in his mouth, and soon afterwards spewed it in a solid state, bearing the exact form and impression of his teeth. If deception be insinuated, the spectator will say, 'No! having the evidence of my senses, I cannot be deceived; if it had been a matter of opinion I might, but seeing, you know, is believing.'

Now, the piece of lead, cast from a plaster mould of the performer's teeth, has probably officiated in a thousand previous performances, and is placed in the mouth, between the gum and cheek, just before the trick commences. The spoon is made with a hollow handle containing quicksilver, which, by a simple motion, can be let run into the bowl, or back again into the handle at will. The spoon is first shewn with the quick-silver concealed in the handle, the bowl is then dipped just within the rim of the pot containing the molten lead, but not into the lead itself, and, at the same instant, the quicksilver is allowed to run into the bowl. The spoon is then shewn with the quicksilver (which the audience take to be melted lead) in the bowl, and when placed in the mouth, the quicksilver is again allowed. to run into the handle. The performer, in fact, takes a spoonful of nothing, and soon after exhibits the lead.

LEIGH HUNT

Among the numerous distinguished literary characters of the first half of the nineteenth century, no man more fully answered to the appellation of 'a man of letters' than Leigh Hunt. He exercised no inconsiderable influence on the literature of his day. As a political writer, he stood at one time almost alone in a resolute advocacy of an independent and enlightened spirit of journalism, as distinguished from mere party-scribbling; as a critic of poetry and art, he contributed much to the overthrow of the pedantry and narrow maxims of the Johnsonian era; and, as an entertaining and popular writer, he figures in the van of that illustrious army, which has since, with such singular success, fought the battle of the people, and established the right of labouring men to educational advantages.

Leigh Hunt was born on the 19th of October 1784. His father, Isaac Hunt, was descended from some of the earliest settlers in Barbadoes, and practised successfully as an advocate; but, espousing the cause of the king in the American struggle, he was seized and put in prison; and probably only saved himself from unpleasant handling by bribing the jailer. He made his escape to England, leaving his wife and family behind, and some time elapsed before they could join him. Mrs. Isaac Hunt came of a Quaker stock, and would have done honour to any sect. Her husband became a clergyman and popular preacher, but behaving with too imprudent generosity on a certain occasion, in which royalty was implicated, he never secured the promotion which he confidently expected.

Leigh Hunt was sent to Christ Hospital, where he remained some years, but he did not proceed to the university from that foundation, because a habit of stammering which he had, as well as a laxness of orthodoxy, derived from changes in the views of both parents, led him honestly to refuse to promise to enter the ministry. For some time he did nothing, not knowing what profession to take up; then he entered the office of an attorney, his elder brother; in the next place, he became a clerk in the War-Office, through the patronage of Mr. Addington; and, finally, he decided, and decided wisely, to become a man of letters.

In 1802, when Leigh Hunt was only eighteen, the Rev. Isaac Hunt was so pleased with his verses, that he published them, by subscription, under the title of Juvenilia. He ought to have known better, for the boy's vanity was by no means lessened by the notice that was taken of him.

Leigh Hunt made his first great advance towards celebrity as a dramatic critic. He diligently attended the theatres; resolutely refused to form any acquaintances with actors or managers, in order to preserve his independence; and bringing his extensive reading and liberal views to bear on the emptiness of dramatic productions, he made such a stir by his papers in the Traveller, that playgoers learned to accept his dictum without demur, and play-performers to hate him.

His next career was that of a journalist. He joined with his brother John in setting up a weekly paper, named the Examiner. The noble and independent, and, at the same time, liberal spirit in which the paper was conducted, drew all eyes upon it. It took no side; it stood alone. The Tories execrated it; and the Whigs, although, in the main, it advocated their views, were afraid to support it. Nevertheless, it succeeded in acquiring, by its honest plain-speaking, sufficient influence to make it troublesome, and at length the government of the day felt the necessity of punishing disinterestedness so glaring, and watched its opportunity. On three successive occasions the attempt was made, and on each the editors escaped. The Examiner's first offence was defending a certain Major Hogan, who accused the Duke of York, as commander-in-chief, of favouritism and corruption. The second was the following curious remark: ' Of all monarchs since the Revolution, the successor of George III. will have the finest opportunity of becoming nobly popular.' The third was an article against military flogging.

These three cases of prosecution were not carried out; but a fourth was to come. The government was exasperated by failure, and when it struck at last, the blow was severe. We cannot do better than record the affair in the words of Leigh Hunt's eldest son:

'The occurrence which prompted the article was a public dinner on St. Patrick's Day, at which the chairman, Lord. Moira, a generous man, made not the slightest allusion to the Prince Regent; and Mr. Sheridan, who manfully stood up for his royal friend, declaring that he still sustained the principles of the Prince Regent, was saluted by angry shouts, and cries of "Change the subject!"

The Whig Morning Chronicle moralised this theme; and the Morning Post, which then affected to be the organ of the court, replied to the Chronicle, partly in vapid prose railing, and partly in a wretched poem, graced with epithets, intending to be extravagantly flattering to the prince. To this reply the Examiner rejoined in a paper of considerable length, analysing the whole facts, and translating the language of adulation into that of truth. The close of the article shows its spirit and purpose, and is a fair specimen of Leigh Hunt's political writing at that time:

"What person, unacquainted with the true state of the case, would imagine, in reading these astounding eulogies, that this ' glory of the people' was the subject of millions of shrugs and reproaches? —that this 'protector of the arts' had named a wretched foreigner his historical painter, in disparagement or in ignorance of the merits of his own countrymen? — that this 'Mecaenas of the age' patronised not a single deserving writer?—that this 'breather of eloquence' could not say a few decent extempore words, if we are to judge, at least, from what he said to his regiment on its embarkation for Portugal?—that this 'conqueror of hearts' was the disappointer of hopes?—that this ' exciter of desire' [bravo! Messieurs of the Post!] — this 'Adonis in loveliness' was a corpulent man of fifty? in short, this delightful, blissful, wise, pleasurable, honourable, virtuous, true, and immortal prince, was a violator of his word, a libertine, over head and ears in disgrace, a despiser of domestic ties, the companion of gamblers and demireps, a man who has just closed half a century without one single claim on the gratitude of his country, or the respect of posterity?" ...

This article, no doubt,' says Leigh Hunt at a later period, 'was very bitter and contemptuous; therefore, in the legal sense of the term, very libellous; the more so, inasmuch as it was very true!' Admit that it was true, and that words of truth, however bitter and blasting, if the speaker can substantiate them, ought not to be held as a libel. One, nevertheless, cannot wonder that the authors of such language against a reigning prince received castigation. The punishment was cruel: the brothers were fined a thousand pounds, and imprisoned for two years in separate cells. It is a noble fact in their favour, that, being promised privately a remission of the punishment, if they would abstain for the future from unpleasant remarks, John and Leigh. Hunt refused the offer. They also declined to allow a generous stranger to pay the fine in their stead.

Leigh Hunt's account of his prison-life is very interesting. He was ill when he entered on it, and  this illness, and want of exercise, permanently injured his constitution; but he passed the time pleasantly enough. He papered his prison-walls with roses, and painted the ceiling like a sky; he furnished his room with a piano, with bookshelves, with his wife and all his children, and turned a little yard into an arbour of summer loveliness by the help of flowers and paint. We should have been pleased to possess a fuller history of what was said and done in this noteworthy prison-cell. Charles Lamb was a daily visitor. Thomas Moore introduced Byron, who afterwards came frequently to dine or chat, and was very courteous to the prisoner. And many other worthies, whom Leigh Hunt had not previously known, on this occasion introduced themselves, among whom were Charles Cowden Clarke, William Hazlitt, and Jeremy Bentham. He lost no old friends, and made many new ones. Shelley, though almost a stranger to him, made him what he calls 'a princely offer,' and Keats penned a sonnet, which was all he could do:

WRITTEN ON THE DAY THAT MR. LEIGH HUNT LEFT PRISON

What though, for shewing truth to flattered state,
Kind Hunt was shut in prison, yet has he,
In his immortal spirit, been as free
As the sky-searching lark, and as elate.
Minion of grandeur! think you he did wait?
Think you he nought but prison-walls did see,
Till, so unwilling, thou unturn'dst the key?
Ah, no! far happier, nobler was his fate!
In Spenser's halls he strayed, and bowers fair,
Culling enchanted flowers; and he flew
With daring Milton through the fields of air;
To regions of his own his genius true
Took happy flights. Who shall his fame impair,
When thou art dead, and all thy wretched crew?'

Leigh Hunt entered prison on the 3rd of February 1813, and left it on the same day two years later. The next most noticeable event of his personal history is his friendship with Shelley. It was by Shelley's inducement that he undertook a journey to Italy, to co-operate with Shelley and Byron in a liberal periodical which they proposed to bring out. The voyage proved a troublesome one. He engaged to embark in September 1821, he actually embarked on November 16 of that year, and, after narrowly escaping shipwreck with his family, the whole of which he had on board, he was landed at Dart-mouth. He embarked again in May 1822, and reached Italy in June. Before he had been many days in Italy, his friend was drowned, and Byron shewed signs of relenting in the matter of the periodical. It was but a short connection, as might have been expected. Byron went to Greece, and Leigh Hunt stayed in Italy till 1825, after which he returned to England.

The rest of his life was passed in literary projects, in getting into debt, and getting out of it, in pleas-ant communing with his numerous literary friends, among whom were Barry Cornwall, Thomas Carlyle, the Brownings, and many others, in attempts to live cheerfully under affliction, and, chief of all, in accumulating book-lore. His closing years were rendered more happy by an opportune pension of £200 a year, which Lord John Russell obtained for him. He died on the 28th of August 1859, and was buried, according to his wish, in Kensal Green Cemetery.

Leigh Hunt had a kind heart and a cheerful spirit; he was a man of simple tastes and no inclination to expense. If he could have gone through life as a child under tutelage, he might have smiled on to its close, and died as the gay insects do at the close of the season. As a man with responsibilities to his fellow-men, and to a wife and children, he failed in duty, and consequently lost in happiness. It was quite impossible, however, for any one with the most ordinary share of generosity to know him and not love him. In literature he might be said to take a high place among the dii minores. His poetry, though burdened with mannerism, charms by its sparkling vivacity; and of his many essays it would be possible to select at least a hundred which reach a degree of classic excellence.

THE EGLINTOUN TOURNAMENT

It was an idea not unworthy of a young nobleman of ancient lineage and ample possessions, to set forth a living picture, as it were, of the medieval tournament before the eyes of a modern generation. When the public learned that such an idea had occurred to the Earl of Eglintoun, and that it was to be carried out in the beautiful park surrounding his castle in Ayrshire, it felt as if a new pleasure had been at length invented. And, undoubtedly, if only good weather could have been secured, the result could not have fallen short of the expectations which were formed.

Nearly two years were spent in making the necessary preparations, and on the 28th of August 1839, the proceedings commenced in the presence of an immense concourse of spectators, many of whom, in obedience to a hint previously given, had come in fancy-costumes. The spot chosen for the tourney was about a quarter of a mile eastward of the castle, surrounded by beautiful scenery; it comprised an arena of four acres, with a boarded fence all round. At convenient places, were galleries to hold 3000 persons, one for private friends of the earl and the knights who were to take part in the mimic contest, and the other for visitors of a less privileged kind. In the middle of the arena were barriers to regulate the jousts of the combatants. Each of the knights had a separate marquee or pavilion for himself and his attendants.

The decorations everywhere were of the most costly character, being aided by many trappings which had recently been used at the Queen's coronation. Besides keeping 'open house' at the castle, the earl provided two temporary saloons, each 250 feet long, for banquets and balls. But the weather was unfavourable to the 'brave knights;' the rain fell heavily; spectators marred the medievalism of the scene by hoisting umbrellas; and the 'Queen of Beauty' and her ladies, who were to have ridden on elegantly-caparisoned palfreys, were forced to take refuge in carriages. A procession started from the castle in the midst of a drenching shower. It comprised men-at-arms clad in demi-suits of armour, musicians, trumpeters, banner-bearers, marshals, heralds, pursuivants, a 'judge of the peace,' retainers, halberdiers, a knight-marshal, a jester, archers, servitors, swordsmen, and chamberlains—all attired in the most splendid costumes that befitted their several characters. These were mostly subordinates.

The chiefs were fifteen knights, and about double as many esquires and pages—nearly all in magnificent armour, whole or demi. The knights were the Marquis of Water-ford, the Earls of Eglintoun, Craven, and Cassius; Viscounts Alford and Glenlyon; Captains Gage, Fairlie, and Beresford; Sirs Frederick Johnstone and Francis Hopkins; and Messrs Jerningham, Lamb, Boothby, and Lechmere. These knights all bore chivalric appellations—such as the Knights of the Dragon, the Griffin, the Black Lion, the Dolphin, the Crane, the Ram, the Swan, the Golden Lion, the White Rose, the Stag's Head, the Burning Tower, the Lion's Paw, &c.; these emblems and symbols being emblazoned on the trappings of the several knights and their retainers. Some of the dresses were exceedingly gorgeous. The Marquis of Londonderry, as 'King of the Tournament,' wore a magnificent train of green velvet, embroidered with gold, covered by a crimson-velvet cloak trimmed with gold and ermine, and having a crown covered in with crimson velvet; the Earl of Eglintoun, as 'Lord of the Tournament,' had a rich damasked suit of gilt armour, with a skirt of chain-mail; and Sir Charles Lamb, as 'Knight Marshal,' had a suit of black armour, embossed and gilt, and covered by a richly-emblazoned surcoat. The esquires and pages were all gentle-men of fortune and position. Lady Seymour, as 'Queen of Beauty,' wore a robe of crimson velvet, with the Seymour crest .embroidered in silver on blue velvet, and a cloak of cerise velvet trimmed with gold and ermine. The ladies in the chief gallery were mostly attired in the costumes of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.

Under most discouraging circumstances the cavalcade set forth—the gaily-trimmed horses splashing in the dirt, the armour washed with pitiless rain, and the velvets and laces saturated with wet. The knights with their esquires entered their several pavilions, while the rest of the personages took up the posts allotted to them. The knights issued forth from their pavilions two and two, paid their devoirs to the fair ladies in the galleries, and then fought to the sound of trumpet. This fighting consisted in galloping against each other, and each striking his lance against the armour of the other; the lances were so made of wood as to be easily broken, and thus there was no great danger incurred.

After several couples had thus jousted, the Earl of Eglintoun and the Marquis of Waterford (the 'Lord of the Tournament' and the 'Knight of the Dragon') came forward, most gorgeously arrayed and armed, and attended by no fewer than eight esquires and pages. After running at each other until two lances were broken, the earl was declared the best knight of the day, and was rewarded by the 'Queen of Beauty' with a crown of victory. But the incessant rain sadly marred the whole affair; and the day's jousting ended with a very unpicturesque broadsword combat between an actor and a soldier, engaged for the purpose. In every sense was the day's joyousness damped; for when the guests were quite ready for a grand banquet and ball in the evening, it was found that the two temporary pavilions, fitted up in the most splendid manner, were flooded with water from the heavy rains, and were quite useless for the purposes intended. On the 29th, the weather was nearly as bad; no jousting in the lists was attempted, but some mimic tilts took place under cover, in which one personage took part who was destined to fill an important place in the history of Europe—Prince Louis Napoleon, afterwards the Emperor Napoleon III of France.

On the 30th, the skies were more favourable; the joustings were renewed, and were wound up by a tourney of eight knights armed with swords—used in some inoffensive way against each other's armour. Measures had been taken to render the banqueting-hall and ball-room available, and the day ended with a banquet for 300 persons and a ball for 1000. The 31st came, and with it weather so stormy and ungenial that any further proceedings with the tournament were abandoned. And thus ended this most costly affair. The spot had been so selected that, outside the fence, an enormous number of spectators might witness the proceedings; and it was estimated that little under 200,000 persons availed themselves of this opportunity on one or other of the four days —coining from almost every county in Scotland, and from various parts of England and Ireland. The Ardrossan Railway Company trebled their fares; and whoever had a gig or other vehicle to let at Glasgow, could command extravagant terms for it.

August 29th

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