Star. — London, England, 1825-12-28 00:00:00

o h, Where, the prrinted c•ine, the ruffled wriit• • , the ' long-rerinditig march and energy div ine c; Ciptain Paton?• Where we ye, ye Ancients,' proud worth,y of the name? Where are Lieutenant -Colonel Cornet and his riflemen, ThAt took up the sword when they laid down the pen ?' Vb"-„ete is the other hero of the same indigenous Muse, Brave Colonel Geddes, on his Mick horse— Not forgetting the gallon Major Curse?' tilere is the almost solitary each, and the dardaring 0 1,,:eni,glitc. , p of that hoary, h-spitable, genetons Am -triri whucould not dine unless his table were filled ; P"! I drove, day after day, all the year round, to K the e.room," to bring home exactly as many hungry reads (how could such a man have enemies ?) as he unoccupied covers? Where is nlw the ample cloak n ever was a Roman toga nor Greek pallium more ozu-t in fold and sweep—of that great septuagenarian tE sN lapius, who strode here perpetually, hefore the tr e•of all men, a living type of wealth, health, vigour, a 'l dignity—the visible possessor, in his ow n person, sa me charm potent over all cares, maladies, and even,l eemed, length of days? All gone! alas! every ow . I cannot discover a single single-breasted coat— i s ;,!r, , le white wig—scarcely a single queue, in all the P '4,• Even powder itself has been discarded—and a mot in kt,ee-breeches and lambs' wool stockings is a .47 „qs. Dailies thern'selvea wrap their nether bulks in C,.o.icks; nay, I have seen a D. 1.); in Wellington'.! It is not, nor it cannot come to, good -- !" . d id r.Of course, one of the first th i ngs I after coming :o 4 1 1, town, was to go and take a look at the Unives sity, rvliele I spent many really delightful hays; and many Mat, ahhoitgh rather dull in passing, have long since come to be very pleasing in the retrospect. Heir also I ti'lrld sad changes ut all sorts. The inner court, where I have so often paced, has lost its primitive liot!lie air altogether; for, though three sides stand in d a te Imo, the fourth has been replaced by a new build- Pi totally different styleof atchitectute, sufficiently tall aml massive to make the antique remains adjoining arreAr mean as well as mutilated, and exhibiting cer.. tainly 1.0 ery redeeming beauties in itself. To me— ws work has broken much of the old charm—the Nar:er i religio loci" hardly lingers where it reigned. I rust confess, however, that some amends are made by t!.e brautiful museum which now graces the garden tehind. This budding had barely risen above the s .rface of the ground when I left Scotland. I remember tl-.; people were busy about its foundation that gloomy morning when the news of Trafalgar was received by us all, men and boys, with More of sadness, I think, at least of a solemn and awful ft eling, than of joy and thump!). I shall never forget the face with which the crizbiated John Young, Professor of Greek, c ime out Lire ended, with the newspaper in his hand, to lead tlx Gazette to the whole crowd of Togati. "Ile tro is no more . ; he has been dead these several Mars. I knew that very yell—and yet, I know not host, it seemed to me. as I passed beneath the old black orci.way, that Join) Young's figure must still be part and parcel of " the College." I could not help looking up to his accustomed window—a pretty young Lady was watering some flowers in it. A name I had never tuard of was on the door. " They 'have no picture of Mr. Young, which I much wonder at. I think, if I were a limner, I could paint Lint myself, so intensely accurate and alive to this hour is my recollection of him. And yet what r ainter,unleu he sere allowed at least half-a-dozen pieces of canvae,could ever have given anything like an ach quate notion of that peculiar physioguirny ? The sharp, shrewd, knowing, ve, hair-splitting look of his couutenar,ce, in one of its mo :eis, was the most egregious of all possible contrasts to the high, melancholy, earnest enthusiasm of it in another, and between these there was a world of shadings, each deserving of being fixed by the hand of a mares. I would have given something, nevet theless, to: the merest daub that bad preserved anything like a shadow of his features, together with (what nobody could have failed to hit) the most picturesque profusion of grey hairs.—the brisk-look:ng little pigtail—the enormous striped waistcoat—and those never failing Hessian boots, of which we knew the shuffle dlikj clank two quadrangles off. " Young sleeps with his fathers—and dose beside \ him sleeps his old friend, rival, and fellow-labourer, Richardson. We (boys) respected them both, loved them both, and of course gave them both nicknames. With us the one was always Cocky, the other Billy—that is a sort of tax which all pedagogical authority must pay; nay, perhaps I might go further; Napoleon was al ways the Corporal, and Wellington Hooknose, or at best OW Douro, tatting his staidly. Three tSo Professors were th e very antipodes of each oth e r, almost in everything. Young was short, squat, and &Award in person—slovenly, very slovenly, in attire--Hurried in gesture and walk—and, in manner, vivacious to the last degree, and tea lue. lie had a great deal of the shrewdness and craft of the man attir e world, and had many by no meansschnlastic tastes and accom plishments about him, particularly music, in which he was a perfect emitusiast,but he never could speak three syllables without betraying the habits of uninterrupted dissertation and unquestioned authority. How could it be otherwise ? bad been a Professor, and nothing but a Professor, almost front his boyhood. Air. Richardson, on the other hand, had travelled in his youth—he had even been se tretary to an ambassador—at least such is my impression—and moreover, the reputation (I dare say must abswdly unfounded), ral having been, in his day, a gay character in more senses of the word than one. Ile was a poet, ton, and had acquired a name in 'he world of belles lellres, by some contributions to the iliaror and Lounger, and some admirable Essays on Shakspeare's character.-- 'that on Hamlet, by the way, still keeps its place). Lastly, Mr. Richardson had an elegant little estate and residence on the bi3OrcS of Lochlomond, and plAyed the Country Gentleman ore halt of his year. Thus he would have taken it much amiss, to he comidered .mything like a mere l'rofessor of Glasgow College ; and, to do hint though he was a most excellent Professor,. he was widely sistinguished from most of his class, by the style of his general ap ,o.arance, manners, and, I believe, indeed, habits of all sorts. lie :vas a bachelor, and a dandy, In his way, of the first water.— ) can suppose Gray the, poet to have had` something of the same though Richardson was neither so slim, nor so diminutive in pecson7 - 11rtien dressed he wore grand black satin breeches and hackles, and sea-green or snuff.coloured silk stockings with or teously wrought clocks. lie had a delicate rosy complexion, as I remember hint,—a truly gentleman-like expression of face, though somewhat print, nn doubt,—a beautifully curled white wig, with a huble toupee in front, and a ponderous queue behind, the same "t of *velure, in short, that .me sees in the prints of Frederick c: Prussia. Nothing could s:trpass the bland courtesy, and, to us Luis, condescension of his address. Ile used to invite us occasion- Lily to his suppers, and then he was completely the cow tier in Inteher, setting us all perfectly at our ease, and taking part in our r onversation (for he took care it should be ours) with the utmost frankness and hilariy. If id people and great people only knew 101 v easily sher can make young people and small people happy !" et The Gazette of Its: night contains the , appoictment Mr. Commas bl'Kinuis to be C0116U) Gcnctal et Port-au ?rime, nay& Mr. CaIiaINGTOW, Gzatletuan who for mmy yeas htld a sittiatimt Stationery• Office, was taken sud eenty Pt in his gardto at Clic alley, neat Bushy, on Sun Cy. and intosadiatoty espiret% - Ihnui 14411111513.—Tw0 men In a itate,ot drun 'Matteis went oat to ti,;lit in I lington Vs Ids, on Mon. lia b And one of t' rm , BArimid 11. , i icon, a sawyet, tj *Err a fight o f m enu minutes. I's .mtagonisi, encitt s a cht.v.t, iniour2;ll:;ii _ Alh DAM SON'S SPEECH. At t! e Londonderry Anniversary (the Shutting of Gates), which was celebrated in t h at town on t h e B t h inst. Mr. DAWSON, one of the Members for the county of Derry, in retui ning thanks for the manner in which hi. health had been received by the company present, delivered the following speech: The Honourable Gentleman said, he should indeed be wanting in every feeling of gratitude to them, and respect for himself; if he did not attempt to express, in the warmest language which he could command, tl e devotion of his heart to their interests, and die deep sense of ob:igation which the expression of their favour had conferred upon him. To say that he was proud of their approbation, and of his connexion with this City, were but feeble words; he clung to it as the proudest distinction which can belong to any man in Ireland, as the best teward th it can recompense any life, however long and largely devoted to the public service. It was the proudest boast of some sage of antiquity to have it said of him, laudari a laudato vino—it was his (Mr. D.'s) best reward, and his most animating stimulus to public oxerrion, that he represented in the Pailiament of the Empire the loyal, the constitutional. the spirited inhabitant; of this portism of the kingdom. Fall of the recollections of the miseries w! s ich his fellow-repre sentatives in Parliament denounce as pervading other parts of Ireland, he never approached their beautiful city %%idiotic feeling that he belonged to men of other habits and other pursuits; in vain he sought for the lawless ruffian—the midnight assassin—the perjured violator of the laws, and the associated bands of plun derers and incandiaties. In the happy and contented faces which he saw about him, he tecogitised the em blems of love for the laws, and respect Br the established inoitutions of the country ; he never walked through their well-regulated streets without finding an active, industrious, and intelligent population, proudly erect in ti:e consciousness of independence, and graced with all the civility and courteousness which the cultivation of the arts and the pursuits of commerce conftr upon a people ; he never visited their walls without a glow of that enthusiasm which: the mountain breeze and the sea borne gale have infused into the hardy:citizens, as their native and peculiar characteristic for successive cen turies. Under such impressions the coldest heart must be warmed ; the meanest understanding must be ele vated with the value of the gift arising from the con fidence of such men. To betray such a trust would be imp( ssible, for all men would cry shame upon the renegade; and to be insensible to the honour of your approbation would be less than human, for in what part of the empire could be found a more pure, a more honourable, or more constitutional and inde pendent expression of public feeling, than has been manifested this day ?—littit. Gentlemen, on the anni versary cf this day, we have other things to com memorate than the expression of our private feelings —we ate met hare to celebrate the gallant and glo rious actions of our ancestors, and our happy deli verance, in consequence of their exertions, from sla very and superstition. It has been said, that the celebration of such events should he abandoned; as for himself he could never acquiesce in such an injunction ; such advice can come only from those whose ancestors have left them no glorious actions to celebrate, and whose principles prepare them to submit to the tram mels of slavery and superstition. To free men—to the descendants of heroes and martyrs in defence of liberty, such advice will be not only unwelcome, but insulting —the heart will repudiate it, and . the understanding will reject it as contrary to the principles of education, and to the examples which history and religion have furnished for our guidance and imitation. In the days of our youth, when the heart is warm and the mind unshackled by isorldly considerations, upon what themes do we dwell? To what subjects do we refer for refreshment and 41st:tic:ion ? Do we not sympathise in the straggles of the weak against the strong, in defence of their rights and liberties; and do we not imbibe a fond ness fur freedom and the rights of man, in dwelling upon such conflicts ? Do we not applaud the sufferings and the sacrifices of the patriot, while we detest, if we cannot bleak down, the despotism of the tyrant? What father would refuse to instil such lessons into the mind of his son ? What son would respect his father, if he were ordered to turn from these contemplations ? In recurring to the classic recol lections of our youth, does not the heart turn in reading of the suf....rings of the citizens of Namantia in defence of their liberties? Eleven years of siege, and the most frightful desolation of famine and disease, could not extinguish their hatred of the invading foe— they preferred deal: to slavery, and out of the whole population of an extensive city, but ten were left to follow in mournful captivity the chariot of the con queror ; but not even the seductive lays of Horace, nor the polished enmity of Lity, can lob the brave Numan tines of the sympathy .with which admiring posterity applovis their valour; and the heart which beats with the love of its counts y, will, perhaps, bestOw upon the chaired captive who survived that siege a warmer tri bute 01 applause, than upon the arrogant conqueror, that adt!ed Ntimantintts to the list of his titles. Again, ith what emotions do we trace the sufferings of the people of Saguntutn ! The loss of lathe: s, brothers, ft iends—the most severe inflictions of war—the dread ful and appalling necessity which drove them to devour their dead coni;•aaions in arms to appease the cravings of !lunge!, could nut subdue the inflexible spit it of virtue, which 1...c1 the inhabitants to endure every evil lather than to desert their allies, or to submit to an insultiog enemy. Thete ate examples parallel to, but nut exceeding, the virtues displayed by the citizens of DJ' r y—example; which have challenged the admi ration of successive ages, and have been held up as specimens t f valour an .1 patriotism by may patent to his ns ng offspring. These are examples which do not exceed the exploits of our ancestors, aad he heeded not the audacious tongue, or the envious pen, which would attempt to check the recollection of such glorious deeds; hut Ireland especially, in I: eland, of all the countries in Khe wor ld,the commemoration of suet) vit tuts is more par ticularly called for, tsa cheer the dismal barrenness of its History. Let us trace for a moment its stark and bloods progress. When a foreign foe invaded, it slit unk sul;- nissive at the foot of an insignificant conqueror ; continued insurrections—intestin,: S% at s—bloody mac :co:es—t:sachemus treaties—and` a systematic coat !miation against the introducto n of the arts and ales lags or peace, ale to be round in mournsul .access on thioughout the lapse of centuries. Thc national ehatscar was oh.cuied; n ty, the eh:trac e' of tiros e :cured erased by the cut se of the time , Ind tl.e hist ry of Ireland is a smecisni is the history of rations, by ma presenting, diutag five or six centuries,• ins stnlte fact to Ciii:ll rtes riointration or evehase re . pert of 1, 1 ),/ thy ;a-ausl *hurt: ca:: tit lOLA for 0r.c.4 bright passap,e—_where, can we behnld one green spot; like the oasis in the de , ect, to cheer us in our gloom , l pilgrimage ? If the history of this nation was to be written by an unprejioicesf authoy, is most shining passage would be f and in the actions oldie citizens of Derry—actiOns which would not only embellish the most illustrious history, and confer honour upon the most heroic nation, but which are not exceeded in ancient or modern times. It seems also, os if this favoured spot was destined to redeem the national cha racter by the excess of its own virtue, for we have the, most authentic records in the Jiurnals ot the Irish House o Commons of the repeated acts of loyal t v,magnanimity l l I I Ind public spirit of this ancient and unconquered city. The records of the country tell us, that in the civil wars of 1611, Derry was the impregnable city, which baffied all the force of the rebels, and was the refuge then, as it proved also in after times, of all the supporters of the constituted authorities of the land. In the Revolution of 168 S, a crisis the most important that ever happened in any age or country, Derry stossd forth the bulwark of the laws, religion, and liberty of this nation, and to Den y we owe'in a great degree the enjoyment of those blessings in the present day.. Who would then refuse to the descendants of such men the pious duty of com memorating those glorious actions ? Who would attempt to check a spirit, hallowed by the faithful corn memoration of nearly one hundred and fifty years, and springing from an inflexible lover f the laws, the reli gin's, the liberty of their country, in defiance of air the miseries which the cruelty of war, aggravated by the rage of bigotry and superstition, could bring upon the country ? But was he doing justice in this noble city in saying that its citizens were ready to give their lives as a sacrifice for its liberties ? Faint, indeed, would be the praise it we were.to measure their devotion by the mere loss of life—to estimate the r sacrifice we must look at the manner in which death presented itself. In the open field, and in the equal conflict, the soldier marches to battle with hopes elated -" The neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit stirring drum, th' ear-piercing Ste, The royal banner, and an quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war," awake, in almost every mind, a sudden and tumultuous courage. We are apt, under such circumstances, to for get the value of I.le, rather than to defy its loss; we suspend attention to our safety, rather than reconcile ourselves to danger, and, in the thunder of the battle, we - glory in the enthusiasm of the mind ; but, when death approaches with a slow and silent pace—when he creeps on at leisure, and is contemplated in all the terrors of a sure but procrastinated destruction; the spi rits shrink back upon the heart ; fame, ambition, glory, all vanish before our eyes, and the frailty of nature is confessed iu the struggle between the hero and the min; but even such a struggle may have its aggravations. Tree stern patriot may overcome or despise the dangers of his own situation ; he may dr oWn the voice of selfish ness in the love of his country, but' can he look with equal carelessness upon the fate which threatens the author of his being, the partner of his fortunes, or the pledges of his love ? What stopped Col iolanus in the pride of victory ? Hatred, revenge, and pride, stooped to the voices of his mother, wife, and child ; and, soft-.' ened by their complaints, the stern soldier withdrew his conquering. legions,. and exclaimed— " You've won a happy victory to Rome, But for your son, believe it, oh, believe it, • Most dangerously you have mith him prevailed, If not most mortal to hint." By what name, then, shall we distinguish the virtue of the citizens of Derry ? The husband and the father sunk in the stern resolution of the patriot, and the voice of mature was silenced in the love of their liberties and their country. By what name shall we designate their courage, who did not rush into battle in the momentary ardour . of sudden contest, in the pomp and g lo r iou s circumstance of war, but who awaited death in the dark and gloomy recesses of their own walls, amid all the horrors of pestilence and famine, and who, while sinking under the pings of hunger, beheld also its baneful influence on those whose lives were dearer than their own; who heard the helpless voices of their children crying in vain for food,.',Xnd who beheld the sinking eyes of their wives and mothers gazing upon their de fenders until these eyes were cloied in death? In such a trial to stand firm ; in such a c •ntest to be victo rious, can any prai'e be too great—can any grati. tude of their posterity Ise too lasting? Every man in this city must feel a participation in the honours of his ancestry, and every native of this spot must feel a holy inspiration in the birthplace of such heroism. But though ire fad trespassed longer on their attention than he wished, yet he could not close his observaions without declaring the cauie fir which their ancestors risked their lives and fortunes. Great and noble as was the spirit which first prompted the apprentice boys of Derry to close their gates, the cause which im ' elled them was no less glo r iou s —the necessity w!iich drove them to this decision was no less indispe sable. He must claim not only their pardon for detaining them so loirg, but atten.ion to a short review of the -circum stances of the times, from which the value of their ancestors' exploits will be best appreciated, and in which the strongest reasons will be found for continuing to commemorate this anniversary, and for teaching our children's children to cherish it as the guide of their hopes and conduct. It is an indisputable fact, ac knowledged by all histoi ions, that the object of King James was to re-establish the Catholic religion b _oh in England and Ireland, and with the Catholic religion unlimited despotism. His attempts to effect this object 1 in England were hapi.ily frustrated in their very first birth, but his endeavours in Ireland were more success ful ; and with the aid of ready Ministers and a willing people, be had very neeily obtained his purpose.— Having confided hi, plans to an active agent, the Duke of Tyrconnel, no time was lost in carrying them into effect. The first object was to g tin pi.ssession of the military force of the country ; for that purpose he ex pelled every Protestant from the ranks of the army, and deprived every Protestant Gerftleman of his commis sion. Having mouldea: the military foice according to his fancy, he next proceeded to remodel the civil esta blishments, and he accordingly displaced every Pro testant who held an office in the administration of justice, and filled up the places of Chancellor, Chief Juke, Puisne Judges, Privy Cothicil.ors ) Sheriffs, lisgtsti saes, and even Consta'sles, not. only with Ca tholics, but with those Cath tics who had made them selves most remarkable in this time of jubilee for their r ancour and peisecutien against the Protestants ~Having thus secured an ascendancy for the Catholics in all the ministerial offices it justice, by which the property and Pleb of the Protestants were lett at their mercy, he :text attacked the Cot potations, and by daps-icing Ahem in Elicit char let s, and expelling every Protestant Ma, or, Alriernian, and Itury,;e, lie ire tact made /heal the :iav;.'s of 1.;., v. tli r diid rlrc tJeL of • Lit dCVqIjINII. PaUlla altsitit wife- brought - to this state under • the agency of Tyrconnel, and prepared for the anal esta tilislimerit of Popery, when King James arrived in Ite land, and *hen the only place which- stood out against hi. pots er, and temniaed as a bulwark for the Protestants, was the city of Derry. Immediately on his arrival, he sum moned a Parliament,• and the proceedings of that body will shew what gratitude is due by the ProtFstants of Ire'and to the citizens of Derry, for inflexibly refusing to submit to King James. The Parliament, both Lords and Commons, consisted almost entirely of Catholic:, and its first Act was to repeal the Act of Settlement, by which the Protestants in Ireland held their estate.. The Act of Attainder was then passed, by whtch 2,600 Protestants, mentioned by name, wete attainted of high treason, if they did not make their appearance before the Ist of the following November ; and, in order to add insult to cruelty, King James's Chancellor kept the Act in his pocket for four i months after the time aas passed, to prevent t h e uttortunate victims from availing then's:lves of this insulting lenity—an Act which exceeds in cruelty the famous proscriptions of Rome during the worst days of tyranny. A law was also passed to take away the personal property of any Ps otectant who was absent from the kingdom. Not swisfied with the destruction of proottty, a design ea; formed to put an end to the Piotestant Priesthood, by putting the free-schools under Popish masters—by inn o ducing Popish Fellows into the University, and by nomi nating a Popish Priest to be Provo t of Trinity College. So far was the spirit of extirpas ion carried-that even three Protestant Fellows of the College were forbidden to meet together under pain of death. James also seized the revenues of the vacant Bishoprics, gave over the tithes and first fruits to Popish Bishops and Priests, and destroyed the jurisdiction of the Protestant Church. To complete his plans he gave orders for seizing all the Churches, and his soldiers not only broke open all the monuments and graves, but took out the dead bodies, and left them exposed to the birds of the Ir. Procla mations were issued, fest bidding Protestants assembling for divine worship even in privatehouses, and a Popish Governer of Dublin-. Lsued an order, forbidding more than five Protestants to ass. mble on any pretence, under pain of deaths . This, Gentlemen, is an epitome of the history of the day, and of those causes which led to the galiant resistance of the inhabitants l of this city against tyranny, slavery, and superstition. If history furnishes any example of a more noble struggle, or of greater devotion to the cause of liberty, let it be toasted this evening; but he knew of none, and while the love of liberty, the praise of courage, the honour of victory in a good and g!orktis cause, continues to draw forth the admiration of mankind, so long will the citizens of Detry continue to receive from all loyal and w,:11-affected hearts, the thanks of their countrymen and the gratitude of posterity ; and now, Gentlemen, for one parting word. You are justly proud of the sufferings, the sacrifices, and the victory of your, forefathers—you can never prove your &mini rude in a better manner than by adhering inflexibly to the sante principles—let not the tongue of flattery deceive you into a surrender of your principles, and let not the anger of faction deter you horn the just, but temperate expression Of your leel ngs. Be assured that you will find champions in the highest places, who will not be afraid to re-echo ) our sen i ntents; be just to yourselves and to your posterity, in maintaining the principles established by your ances tors, and doubt not that the same spirit, the .:e me 2.4, the same love for a free Constitution, will animate the Representatives of the County to join once more in your native rallying cry of " No Surrender r SI'ORTINJ INTELLIGENCE,. i-......... HUNTING. Sir Richard Sutton's Fox Hounds, meet to-morrow, at Kettle. thorpe ; Thursday, at Blankney ; and Saturday, at the Cross Keys Inn, Tiltbridge-lane. Lord Scarborough's Fox Hounds, to-mor Village ; and Friday, at Mickkbring Village. Mr. Wicksted's Fox Hounds, to-morrow, at Lawton; and Fri day, at the kennel. Lord Yarbotriugh's Hounds, to-morrow, at Scatter V illage; Fri day, at Hainton House; and Saturday, at Kirtnington Vale. Mr. Boycott's Hounds, to-morrow, at Castle Hill; and Friday, at Smester Turnpike. The Worcestershire Hounds, on Friday, at Criffey. Mr. Gay's Harriers, on Thursday, at Waltham le Willows. The Earl of Darlington's Fox Hounds, to-morrow, at Chitin Gate; Friday, at Camp Hill; and Saturday, at Newton House kennel. r, at Wadwarrh Sir T. Sylies's Fox hounds, to•morruw, at nossall; an] Friday, at Niillington. The East Sussex Fox Hounds, on Thursday, at Plumpton; Saturday, at East llouthly ; and Monday, at Abbott's Wood. -„ oh, where, the pointed cane, the ruffled wrist• : t. ,.,d , the ' long-resioinding march and energy divine c Captain Paton ?• Where are ye, ye Ancients,' proud worthy of the name ? Where are G. • Lieutenant -Colonel Corbet and his riflemen, ins That took up the sword when they laid down the pen ?' of I','; ere is the other hero of the same indigenous Muse, hi, Brave Colonel Geddes, on his black horse— del Not forgetting the gallant Major Curse?' the almost solitary each, and the dardaring be Oa . rre ni•rlitc , p of that hoary, h-spitable, generous Am- res •-• p ! l ' rro s • 10 WhGC(. l .lld not dine unless his table were filled ; t h e • 2 I drove, day after day, all the year round, to "the del . &room, to bring home exactly as many hungry se t , vreads (how could such a man have enemies ?) as he h a , unoccupied covers? Where is wive the ample cloak the lever was a Roman toga nor Greek pallium more we oz „.t in fold and sweep—of that great septuagenarian dis E s Nlapius, who strode here perpetually, hefore the the er e- of all men, a living type of wealth , health, vigour, lon d i gn ity—the visible possessor, in his old n per son, the a t s ome charm potent over all cares, maladies, and ever), as it ,eemed, length of days? AU gone! alas! every be s tee . ca nnot discover a single single-breasted coat— exe a srr•r,•le white wig—scarcely a single queue, in all the the Even powder itself has been discarded—and a inh man in keee-bieeches and lamb' wool stockings is a the .v 0 at ja. Dailies thern'selves wrap their nether bulks in seat ks • nay, I have seen a D.D; in Wellingtons! par i• It is not, nor it cannot come to, good --- !" tit] "Of course, one of the first things I did after coming hal :o 4 t i , town, was to go and take a look at the Unives sity, law :;here I sprat many really delightful days; and massy" yiu I. • cilia, allhOogb rather dull in passing, have long since der ow to be very pleasing in the retrospect. Here also facr I tetra! sad changes ut all sorts. The inner court, hle t • where I have so often paced, has lost its primitive in ,l r • troPric air altogether ; for, though three sides stand in t h e ; aatif Vitro, the fourth has been replaced by a new hui!d- ind re rat p• a torally di ff erent styleof atchitectute , su ffi ciently ti:e tall and massive to make the antique remains adjoining the appear mean as well as mutilated, and exhibiting cep, the tainly no aery redeeming beauties in itself. To me— pro vas work has broken much of the old charm—the lb" N.ce)i religio loci" hardly lingers where it reigned. I "r rust confess, however, that some amends are made by n 4 i the beautiful museum which now graces the garden mil • tchind. This budding had barely risen above the be s aface of the ground when I left Scotland. I remember v at' 7 people were busy about its foundation that gloomy fide morning when the news of Trafalgar was received by be i us all, men and boys, with More of sadness, I think, rent at least of a solemn and awful ft eling, than of joy and apt triumph. I shall never forget the face with which the Par celebrated Jahn Young, Professor of Greek, come out m Ol bareheaded, with the newspaper in his hand, to lead Peri ere Gazette to the whQie crowd of ingati. mai '• ale too is no more; he has been dead these several ver . ItAIS. I knew that very well—and yet, I know not me • hots, it seemed to me, as I passed beneath the old black arci.way, that John Young ' s figure must still be part not and parcel of the College." I could not help looking ver up to his accustomed window—a pretty young Lady ver WAS watering some flowers in it. A name I had never cele !card of was on the door. hit " They 'have no picture of Mr. Young, which I much sac wonder at. I think, if I were a limner, I could paint has • him myself, so intensely accurate and alive to this hour molar is my recollection of him. And yet what r ainter,unleu hr mel sere allowed at least half-a-dozen pieces of canvas,could des ever have given anything like an ads quate notion of that sue peculiar physiognomy ? The sharp, shrewd, knowing, —t inquisitive, hair-splitting look of his countenance, in one of its mo ids, was the most egregious of all possible anc contrasts to the high, melancholy, earnest enthusiasm fur of it in another, and between these there was a world of of shadings, each deserving of being fixed by the hand of onr a maser. I would have given something, nevertheless, the the merest daub that had preserved anything like a refi shadow of his features, together with (what nobody the could have failed to hit) the most picturesque profusion of t of grey hairs.—the brisk•lookrng little pigtail—the net enormous striped waistcoat—and those never failing O P 4 Hessian brots, of which we knew the shuffle anal clank 4114 two quadrangles off. can " Young sleeps with his fathers—and close beside, lath him sleeps his oltl friend, rival, and fellow-labourer, Richardson.' trill We (boys) respected them both, loved them both, and of course lath gave them both nicknames. With us the one was always Cocky, cor the other Billy—that is a sort of tax which all pedagogical authority must pay: nay, perhaps 1 might go further; Napoleon was at. I=l ways the Corporal, and Wellington Hookaose, or at best OW Douro, ma Elting his fluidly. These tSo Professors were the very antipodes del of each other, almost in everything. Young was short, squat, arid the awkward in person—slovenly, very slovenly, in attire--Hurried in gesture and walk—and, in manner, vivacious to the last degree, and C M brusque. lie had a great deal of the shrewdness and craft of tire man the ofth e world, and had many by no meansscholastic tastes and accom- poi Vestments about him, particularly music, in wlich he toss a perfect 1 0 1 eatintsiast,but he never could speak three syllables without betraying the habits of uninterrupted dissertation and unquestioned authority. f l at How could it be otherwise ? Lie bad been a Professor, and nothing the but a Professor, almost from his boyhood. Mr. Richardson, on tint the other hand, had travelled in his youth—lie bad even been se- an , tretary to an ambassador—at least such is my impression—and the lid, moreover, the reputation (I dare say most absardly unfounded), rif having been, in his day, a goy character in more senses of the efts word than one. Ile was a part, ton, and had acct./iced a nanic iu but 'he world of belles Imre., by sonic contributions to the iliarar and the Lounger, and some admirable Essays on Shakspeare's characters-- rrhat on H am l e t, by t h e way, st i ll keeps i ts place ) . L astly, Mr. I` Richardson had an elegant little estate and residence on the shores 1 2 e ( of Lochlomond, and played the Country Gentlemen one h.. 11 of it it his year. Thus he would have taken it much amiss, tr. he comidereel fu I .alything like a mere l'rofessor of Glasgow College ; and, to do him de , though he was a most excellent Professor,. he was widely r. stinguished from m ost o f hi s c l ass , b y t h e sty l e o f hi s genera l ap - s it ~ . .arance, manners, and, I believe, indeed, habits of all sorts. lie spi ..vas a bachelor, and a dandy, In his way, of the first water.— eve I can suppose Gray the, poet to have had` something of the same to , though Ilichard s on w as ne i t h er so s li m, nor so di m i nut i ve in o pu•sodr-When ilressed he wore grand bl a ck satin breeches and u 1 hackles, and sea-green or snuff.coloured silk stockings with gor- of teously wrought clocks. lie had a delicate rosy complexion, as I rat remember him,—a truly gentleman-like expression of lace, though somewhat prim, nn doubt,—a beautifully curled white wig, with a 1 . hable toupee in front, arid a ponderous queue behind, the same his Ott of *velure, in short, that one sees in the prints of Frederick CSC Prussia. Nothing cowl surpass the bland courtesy, and, to us the Luis, condescension of his address. Ile used to invite us occasion- Lily to his suppers, and then he was completely the cow tier in art /usenet, setting us all perfectly at our ease, and taking part in our ,o nversation (for he took care it should be ours) with th e utniosr.the r how and hilarity. If id people and great people only knew tic ° w slier can make young people and small people happy V' tale ----.. psi , The Gazette of last night contains thearippoisument r.r 4/ ‘ Mr. bl•Kanurs to be Comm) General at Port-au- Cm Prince, Hay& Mr. COIMINGToII, a Gzretlenian who for mmy }errs trio held a situatioe hi'the Stationery-Office, was taker, d e cud she (*ay in his Baal' at Cho • ad ey, near Bushy, on Sun •411 d q• and insusosii - tarty expired. Ila: y. L_ . 1)14111 $T Fteililsol—Two men In a state , of drun Kellum went out to fight in I lir e • ton ll Ids, on Mo- i , gThd one of ti ern, Barnard liar iison, a sawyer, was 14 k li ed, *Err a fig ht of twenty minutes. l l's .mtagonist„ o Ili dlcirta a dltl.l. • • • FOX HUNTING. The Pembrokeshire lux-bounds met on Thursday last, at Pit'. ton Castle, attended by a numerous field, when a gallant fox broke away with sixteen couple of the hounds close at his brush, 'and after a severe chase of an hour and a half without a check, on a difficult country of more than fifteen miles, he was run into, attended by Tom Reynolds, the whipper, only ; the rest of the Ninwods were, here, there, everywhere, nowhere! The Fast Soma Fox-hounds, which met at Clayton Holt, had some sport on Thursday. They unkennelled is a gorse field, called the Hassocks, and reynard, thence, took for Clayton Holt, on for Clayton Mill, and, bearing to the left, passed through the kodge Farm, to the Weald, and reached Warren Gower Wood. nurn the latter he sprung for Coq* Place ; but, being beaded, went di. rest northward, for Biackhrook cover, which he threaded, and bounded for the north side of Ditchling Common—doubled it, and took for the Hundred Acre Wood, the property of Mr. Lane; but where, the scent becoming cold, the dogs were caUed off, after a chase of au hour and 45 minutes, The diversion, however, was more in perseverance than sharp running. WESTMIN)TER IMPROVEMENTII.—The onlytwo houses which abutted on that ancient site, called " the Sanctu ary," at the upper end of Prince's street, leading to Tothill-street, age at length levelled with the ground. Workmen are also employed in preparing the founda tion of the intended new Parliamentary Mews, by lining the excavations with lime, in order to ensure its dryness and durability. It is understood, that in addition to the improvements thus proceeding in this part of the metropolis, there will presently be another new Square fairing the northern side of the Abbey, and correspond ing in same degree with the fine enclosure which tuns parallel with the entrance to the Sessions House. The houses at present in Gardener's-line, together with many now standing in King -street, are likewise to come down. Yesterday evening, as a man was tarrying a pitcl.er of water, in Fenci.urch-street, a one-horse cart, crossing from Mark-lane to Buliter street, ran against him, what 'the wheel went over his body. He was taken to the Magpie and Punch Bowl public-house, but was found to be quite dead. The driver of the cart assisted him to the public-hi/use, but finding the melancholy fact ) ke decamped ; and as neither the name net Slumber warp taken, it is not known who the driver is. • CORN RICHANOR, Demme Not the least otenand is there fur any descried*" of Grain, woe do We believe that a *et sale his bees effected; therefore, our market tkeing ia 4 sassisaat state, rites are nosainally as co bloaday 4 A Myatt : English W beat, 4 2,3 - 0 *q: s. Hari y,17,000 qrs. ciass i 7,4, , U vb. :.~.`; .