The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1847-09-07 00:00:00

TO T E BARD Hair our iro Gloomy n it itrraturr. POETRY WHO TUI D NIGHT DAY INTO 0 DAY ! eimv,=XnaKlN2Mn , Scriptural Epitaphs. Smith, Elder, and Co., London. The design of this little book—which is very beautifully printed and neatly bound—is "to furnish a selection of passages from the Holy Scriptures suitable for Christian epitaphs, in the hope that it may tend to a more judicious choice of monumental inscriptions. " It is too frequently the case that lines or inscriptions are placed on tomb stones, which are not only offensive to good taste, but are even ludicrous—if not blasphemous. There are multi tudes of passages in the Bible which can be very advan let forth the feelings of the mourners, be of lasting benefit to SOIIV casual reader. - voik. before us has ously used to le texts o partsu- , y grocer over the it the middle are very effective last pia a they JIGHT, 3ard of With this view the compiler of the brought togetbe and we can about three hued ly hope the n. D. I m upon the 3t a town, r Kill tend to L )t our monumental i u to be placed in tl the kingdom Smith coterie i be met wit to be met with every to be found amongs knsparc far In( cleverni pecially In eight The Bottle London: In this effort, the disci cessfully at the production of a sera I-Infravq.ll vin containing in themsel I,ftpon r equal upon a joint of v ien damp he del aiself as bail, at t hose trial was pui nt. lea it of little kind le walks of private life, re of hu replied t THE INDIFFERENCE OF THE PUBLIC THE GREAT I ' HINDRANCE TO SANITARY REFORM. (From Fraser's Magazine.) The great difficulty with which the advocates of sanitary reform have to contend, is the apathy of the people in all that concerns the preservation of health and life. It has never occurred to them to look upon health as property. They forget that it is by it alone that they are enabled to earn a livelihood ; that the strength of their bodies, the skill of their hands, and even the operations of their minds, are directly contingent upon the continuance of their health ; that upon it depends their own subsistence, and the support of wife and children ; that without it they must bid adieu to comfort, to independence, to all hope of • word, in every conflict with of of peace - ard things, in the pursuits as in the struggles of war, health is victory and s of the people unconscious .at truth, but those to_ whom a disease defeat. But not only is the great ma. fiction of the value of health is most essential are the :o feel it and to act upon it. In the tailors' work -ad in the printing-office, where men rot like sheep -lies, poisoned by impure air ; among the fork :A, and in the noisome cellars of Liver .., will find this indifference at its height. The 4-.nts of these places are not ignorant of their dan 'm has blunted their feelings. They know we doomed to a sickly existence and an early have not even ger, but cust( that tlu chance of escape, and that with scarcely an on they will die before their time ; but they are fa almost to a man, and, as far as this part of their creed is concerned, might as well he Mahornetans as Christians. The very men who would move heaven and earth to maintain some petty usage of their trade, or to resist the most unimportant innovation of their so-called rights, will suffer themselves to be suffocated and poisoned without a murmur, and. even oppose the most unreasona ble and vexatious obstazles to the humane attempts of fn irrinrnvP their enndition. But the infa- 1 . tuation of these men does not stop here; for, in exact proportion as their occupations are fatal to health and life, they are addicted to that destructive habit of intoxication, aver the victims of exerts so strange a tascm ical and moral wretchedness This reckless disregard of health and life, this wanton waste of the poor man's only property, this strange apa thy in a matter so momentous, forms, as we have said, the n the way of sanitary reform. The school- sadly wanted here must De put in requisition. Man must tit his duty to his own body. The dictum of mel Johnson, that " to preserve health is a moral and ," must be enforced in the Church. Men _ .minded that long life, and, by inference, the mnd health of which it is the consequence and the sign, _ sous duty I must 1 —wag the temporal blessings promised in tic. Above all, the minister of religion e, should bear always in wind, that every year snatched from :,T unhealthy occupations or unwholesome habits and added it to the term of human existence, is so much added to his SS own opportunities of usefulness,—so much, under Provi s dente, to the sinner's time of trial and repentance, and the • Christian's period of improvement. Hitherto the clergy have not exerted themselves in this promising field of Christian labour. Their thoughts have not been turned g in that direction. Ttiey have looked upon disease too 1 much in the light of a punishment, and too little in that ".ssary and natural consequence of an infringement jaws revealed in man's body, and in the element by which it is supported. The pestilence bred and nuns' in filth has been regarded as a providential provir hold a prominent place ripture. of a nec of God' .nst a redundant population; arid the merciful Being ho has declared that he " willeth not the death of a sin er," is supposed to have made express_ provision to en: a work in which all their They themselves are the .st judges of their own opportunities and duties. In this truly Christian work of rousing the people of ngland to a sense of the value of health and life, the embers of the medical profession may co-operate with, • In their home ministrations, and in sphere of duty afforded by hospitals and dis ,, they have golden opportunities of impressing the minds of all classes, but especially of the lowest, '- 'Pules for the preservation of health, of which - neople are grossly ignorant, and the • ilisrracefull• even more effect that larcE pensari nine-tenths of the y carele ater part of the iemaj hat many members of that most unselfish pro iv embarked heart and soul in the cru li swell the lists of - ovvi, in a noble spirit of forgetfulness, doing everything in their power to dry up the foul their own p r osperity. How favourably does 3 jealous spirit of paro- and the r by a green briar, than thus to be iv ERPOOL STANDARD. e dime 'Litman i.r. hna med su, join: de it midd h will not resign the least o though the lives of the poor an ly tax ! It is more it ,s ripe, nterestir to the ( remarked, " Cultivators ov fcr im with the si ads to the ;'ey the not the :1 of a thunderbol mboozled by —lt is not sufficiently known, amongst ers, that their ineffectual endeavours to raise some from seeds, often arises from their being kept dried ; the plant itself asks circling ( nwards of its ed vessels, after flowering, to con soil, should be our lc s to dry, uspension in the lotion, the r 1 it locos it ol marl I thini turned his bac —as an hot sailor- —l'll mal I of one man speal d even previously to the maturn., is them in her bosom to the earth. a shifting countenance." .s.—The evils incident to Benefit On uttering the words, he took off the wig, and, allow -aral at present constituted, arise mainly ing his features to fall into their natural expression, he ace. Hence it at once appears that intelli- stood before Burnside as Pendleton himself—the very ne appropriate cure. Those great principles of man with whom he had held a long conversation about a assurance which science has developed and expe- couple of hours before. found safe and satisfactory, must be applied in or- ` Confound you. for a scoundrel," said Burnside, o secure the working man from want and dependence. laughing ; " I think you must be the devil himself, since a propriety of this is so obvious as to need no illustra- you have imposed on me; a circumstance which I deemed .on—some however may be disposed to think that every to be impossible. However, I suppose it was the wig did needful provision has been already made in Mutual A - it. llultiply yourself now into fifty, if you can ; only ' societies free from objections, if not in the Saving. _ , such an opinion betrays ignorance of the feeling, and wants of the people. Towards Savings' Banks many of them entertain grave suspicions. The existence of those suspicions we regret. We think those suspicions -,deci. Did we hold that England was on the eve of : did we believe that its rulers we - we should b offsprm s as in ger Mutual r to secure the work you with the necessary chap. of raiment RDER OF THE DUCHESS DE PRA SLIM. We have alreal given every particula mnected with laneholy tragedy, w ficial report of t avings' Banks i among the be 4. none will bo in the count Ife. and if an Verbaux, v select the most interesting portion of the mdence of the unfortunate Duchess, which has 2- 41, THE PERSONATOR. A SCENE FROM " AN IRISH ELECTION IN THE TIME OF THE FORTIES. - (From the .Dublin University _Magazine f -) _ " Ay, but where is he, and what 's his name ?" " He is under the care of honest Paddy Brandy, who will see that he doesn't communicate with or go over to the enemy. His real name, I dare say, few know ; his alias, for the present, is Pendleton." He had scarcely concluded, when Brandy, who received that soubriquet from his predilection for the liquor in question, which was the only description of spirits he ever drank, now entered, accompanied by a respectable looking Methodist preacher, or, at least, by a person in the garb of one. • " What is this. Paddy ?" exclaimed Burnside, angrily ; " where did you leave Pendleton, or what has become of him ?" - " Begorra, sir," replied Brandy, " he was too soople for me ! What has become of him is more than I can tell; but he has given me the slip at all events. In the mane time, here is a gintleman that wishes to say some thing to you about the election." " Certainly," said Burnside ' • " with pleasure. I hope you 're a friend, sir," he added, addressing the stranger. " I know not exactly whether I am a friend to you, sir," replied the Methodist ; " but I trust I am a friend to truth." _ _ _ " Have you a vote ?" asked Burnside. " I have a vote," replied the other, ," but I am not clear that I should give it to a man whose private morals are questionable, as those of Mr. Vanston are reported to be." " We have nothing to do with his private life, I hope," said Burnside. " Pardon me, my friend ; that is the great error of Protestantism—in the heat of our zeal for the ascendancy of our principles, we are too apt to overlook purity of private life. How can a man, negligent of moral obliga tion, and dead to religious experience, prove himself a consistent advocate for truth ?" " Pray, are you a clergyman ?" asked Billy, adroitly; " because, if you be, no man, I assure you, respects con scientious scruples more than I do. Your sentiments certainly do you honour " " I am a clergyman only in a certain sense; in a true sense, I trust, though not in a legal one. I belong to that humble but earnest class, the Primitive Wesleyans, and my call to teach and to preach is from above. My name is John Wesley O'Rafferty—a brand plucked from the burning, and a sincere convert from the abominable system of Popery." " Pray, was your father a Papist, Mr. O'R " Unhappily he was," replied O'Rafferty, I fear he is now paying the penalty." " And how did it happen that he, being a Catholic should have christened you John Wesley O'Rafferty asked Burnside " He never did so, my friend," " The name bestowed upon me at or, as I was more familiarly called, raday. un comfortable under that ungodly name as soon as I had ceased to be an Idolater, and changed it to the more suit able one of John Wesley." with great suavity, cerity. But, Mr. " and an evident proof of yo Wesley, I trust you are coming us your vote." " Unless Mr. Vanston shall express himself willing to attend some of our meetings, and sit occasionally under T fear T cannot conscientiously do so. _T ur 1111111SL ry, Mai i c.c. La al v.+ t..•••••-••••• am decidedly opposed to the practice of sending ungodly men to parliament. I think none but serious persons, of decided piety, should be sent there, and that our legisla ture ought to be only another name for a religious meet- You are perfectly right, Mr. O'Rafferty," replied hni- ' f.,,,hinff your objection, I believe I Durnsuie ; -- out, --j -ean remove it ; for it is no longer than the day beforc yesterday that Mr. Vanston spoke in the highest terms of the connexion to which you belong, and expressed a de. , 1-1 ...al-slrnadi fr.. the •-• county, to• examine into your principles. I encourage( him strongly in that determination, having myself fel very serious impressions for some time past, and a dispc *tion to take the same steps. So far, then, as Mr. V ston is concerned, you may lay aside your scruples. " There is a good deal of truth in what the gentlemar says," observed another supporter of Vanston's. man of unscrupulous life and morals ought not, paribus, to be returned to parliament whilst a man o Private worth and honour can be had. See what discredi' the Liberal party have entailed upon themselves, by electing unprincipled adventurers, who have scarcely any other means of subsistence than what they derive from the sale of their franks, or swindle at the gaming-table —men without fortune, principle, or character—the assn. ciates of sharpers and blacklegs—who contrive to gel themselves into parliament, not for the public good, but in order to be able to laugh at and cheat their creditors These men, I say, may be proper exponents of the publil honesty which influences the party that countenance, them, in defiance of public shame and decency, but chey are, at the same time, very unfit persons to guard th moral interests of society, which they themselves openl trample upon and viol " Well, in that case himself to Burnside " observed O'Rafferty, addr " I think I may lay aside my pies, and I can promise you five votes." " Brandy, what the devil are you grinning at ?" sai Burnside, interrupting John Wesley ;," better for you C- 1 D presen secure Pendlet of you to let him escape added, turning to Wesley— f you can ; .t was rather a soft job I beg your par pray pro :ed." " I 'll eng: ver mind, sir repile Jaz yet, a forthcc I. ver rev A the other five honest votes for you. O'Rafferty, the Methodist preacher one Paddy Boulger, a farmer ; thix chael Boulger, a brother of Paddy's, about heaven, I hope ; fourth, ditto—another brother of mit that went to paradise on a French bullet from the battl of Watherlew, now betther than a year agone ; fifth, ditt, next, r taken out 's wig and my beloved, unless by my suspicions and my temper, and I when did a kind word fail to soothe me ? Give not vent to your anger—be•not inexorable. My heart is breaking. Theobald, pity I pity ! on her who loves you! Trust your happiness to my keeping, as I trust mine to yours. * * * Do not break the heart that is beating only for you. You who once loved me so much, forgive. When you confess to me your sorrows—your bead upon my sorrows—your head upon my breast, your hands in mine, my lips upon your forehead,—do you think that they will not be leo than if pent up in your own breast ? Do not sacrifice our mutual happiness to an empty fear that I will abuse your goodness; no, no, I will only share and console you in all your sorrows. But will you be the less a man to have a loving woman to share your pleasures and your sorrow ? Let this union of our hearts be a sweet mystery of love between us. Oh ! we could be so happy if you would but try it. You would always be met with a happy and smiling countenance, ready to follow you wherever you liked. Perhaps, after all, you are the more lealous of the two. God knows what suspicion you may nourish in your breast, for I am at a loss how to in terpret your secret sorrows. If you knew what I suffer, my beloved ! It is still in our power to be so happy, I cannot think that you wish to abandon me_ thus for ever to deprive us of mutual happiness—life is so short, my beloved, and we have been separated so long ! Soon, I shall not dare to make proposals, always refused like my caresses. It is not your character to make the first ad vances, and from custom your wife will fear you too much to make further attempts, and life will then pass by, and you will be unhappy and your wife will die of grief. Oh, return ! return unto her ! LETTER OF THE DUCHESS OF FRASLIN FOUND IN THE DESK OF THE DUKE, AT PARIS MAY 21; - 1840.—Do not be astonished, my dear Theo bald, at my fear of being alone with you. We are sepa rated—for always—you said so ; a sad recollection will ever be attached. to,yesterday. You must have perceived yesterday that I felt its full weight, when, in the presence of persons who are the cause of this separation, nothing betrayed that it had taken place. You will never have occasion to complain of me before the world—my conduct yesterday is proof sufficient. As long as 1 nourished hopes of a reconciliation. (and latterly I had many) I was hovering between joy and fear, and gave way to fits of temper ; but now that the sacrifice is done, you need not fear. Before the children and the world, nothing will lead to the supposition that you have destroyed my peace. When I say you, it is not you that my heart accuses, but to be alone with you towards you t be too r My heart would o-ve Imposes upon me. _ _.ow ; it will need time to calm its movements—then, mon ami, instead of avoiding you, I shall seek your presence—but at the present moment I love you too well. endeavour to forget my past hopes. Time and habit can alone teach me to draw a line between Theobald and M. de Praslin. If I could but think that you would be happy ved me ! We will meet in heaven ; times cross your mind, that I still love you! EXTRACTS FROM A DIARY FOUND IN THE CHAMBEP " April 23, 1842.—A' IL Oh, he beyond rec 11 is finished. We have quarrelled a is more 'than harsh, he is cruel towards me. How could he acquire this excess of aver sion for me whose love he knows to be so pure, so tender, so devoted ? What infamous influences have been at teful and intractable. rdered all my becorut Has he not just? He excuses himself doubtless by telling himself that my character he Bose is the fault st ' Forty' e it six; and I think six votes )ngly for Billy Burnside ber I live in kil The ch ,o full of joy, of love, of hopes so when you loved me, when yot Ner left me, all thi me mad. I know not what I door say, so ill have you treated me since you have co e that I w you ke de Pra !ent chateau worthy of first word was to tell ,ur wif yself at 1 - you. have believ all regard. Was I then only a m placed all my heart, all my hope, ) many women, I r ihould have world for a bett straint of rd. For - a 1 you effect the g reatest contempt for the the appearance of the most disorc greatest levity of manner, the you have wi y happu 'tienseances yti no lon ,dopted pearanc Oh, I a that I was. you loved p !en youdepart frona•the truth so )t jealo do all that cold and disdainfu turn my eyes and ill. Oh On Sun g I perceived an enormot every day it becomes more In this moment thou sendest visibl Grant that he may My tears him, and that they may fowl his heart Document found a' lines that I send :cretaire, lave written any- aye, they say tains them all as in a ! What a future he special If he allows himself to be Ind brow-beaten by intriguantes at What a life he leads is preparing for himself I forty-two, what will he be when he grows old ! And yet, 'nve him ! He must have been sadly changed — . hot he is now, for one seeing w I can explain sioned. He is no longer the spirit—how narrowed his heart •-... and irritabl ame man; how dull is his —how much has he grown Nothing _ animates Sept. 7, 1847. more eager to seize every opportunity of being of service to you, and that I shall be thankful to you if you will point out the means. I heard that you intended paying Lady Hislop a visit, in which case I will give you a letter to Lady Tankerville, who I am sure will do all that is in her power to second Lady Hislop's endeavours for your welfare. if you would like to have letters to Madame de Flahault and Miss Elphinstone, I shall be most happy to write them. I remember that on arriving at Praslin you asked me to lend you a book ; I hope you will not refuse to accept this little souvenir, which I have great pleasure in sending you. I can only repeat, Mademoiselle, that I shall seize every occasion to be of service to you.—S. Praslin." WILLS 0 THE DUKE AND CHESS " Two wills of the Duchess de Praslin have been deposited in the hands of the President of the Civil Tribunal of the Seine. One of these is dated in 1841, and the other in 1846. In the first the duchess speaks of her husband in the most affectionate terms. In the second she does not, as has been erroneously stated, give a life interest to the duke in all her property, but be queaths to him a part of her personal property, and a life interest in one of her landed estates. In this last will is a curious clause, by which she leaves her jewels to one of her sons, with directions that they shall be sold, and the produce invested in government funds. The dividends of the stock thus purchased are to he invested to accumulate till the time when this son shall be about to be married, when the whole fund thus augmented is to be laid out in the purchase of diamonds for his bride. On Saturday morning the will of the Duke de Praslin was also deposited in the bands of the President of the Civil Tribunal. This will was in the portfolid of the duke, who, just before his death, took care to indicate tnat circumstance. Imme diately after the decease of the prisoner, the portfolio was opened, and.two wills were found, bearing date 1841 and 1843. The first is not signed, but the second, which is the exact reproduction of it, is perfectly regular. In the testamentary act of 1843, the Duke de Praslin, after several liberalities made to his different children, leaves par precipnt the chateau of Praslin de Vaux to his eldest son. In a particular clause he engages his sons not to contract marriage before having attained their twenty-fifth year. There is also in the testament of 1843 a legacy, by which the duke secures a rente of 3,000 fr. to Mdlle. de Lu zy-Desportes, in acknowledgement of the enlightened zeal which she had shown in the education of his daughters " unmov Was r lox el übsequent examination:of Madlle. de Luzy tends to e duchess was of a quick, jealous, irritable, able temper, but with warm affections. As she spoke temper of the ess, the interrogator took occasion frequently to ac her of throwing unnecessary blame on that most un nate lady : wish most sincerely I had not to say what I do. - She is dead. and I only wish I could bring her back to life, not by merely giving mine for her t horr ble ver in addition, by suf- Who beheld as I did every change of her Pity which caused adame de r to mirth, from disdain to mild less ? I feel that, except before not have uttered a word except of respect, Praslin to pass from ness, from iro you. I wor' on, and regret. Oh ! Ido not defend myse leavour to enlighten what is dark." "Did you ever hear ar ,u to suppose that he w ,y thing from M. de Praslin to lead as likely to have recourse to ea- iremities - ?:—I swear by all that is most sacred never. I often heard Madame de Praslin threaten to kill herself. Once at Vaudreuil she wanted to stab h erse lf, an d M. de Praslin, in disarming her, wounded himself in the hand. Another time at Dieppe, after an altercation with her husband, she rushed into the street, threatening to fling herself into the sea ; but some hours after, by that strange king pur. v an occasion extremities to 'hich 11 in was tempted to have recourse, •ofound afflictions which she must you could certainly state to us Fe of mind. 'How heavy ought not su in her such conviction for to the tir tion of Ala- y entering :0 me as all ,d attention that it were fol- [ler as the spirits in a r, that I rc- cence Of an excitectim eal evil." ing to a testi on to purcha they were to take his visit the ( comuanied four - of 1 was the first received by of the hoi mistress of tt !xpressed 1. !cl so stror goverr intenti ad'lle Luzy in th forbidding the v proved of the but had not _Jniteur of Thursday contains a new and most important article on the subject, being the confession of the wretched murderer made to the Duke Decazes, Grand Referendery of the Chamber of Peers, and which he (the Duke Decazes) communicated to the Court of Peers ori their next sitting of the 30th ult. The document fully absolves the government and the tptllorit t les i. of , all know- saund:eiinusatnrucem7enetraelictuylipna,t tl.nyefe ll e e e g a li t g n e o n r t a in osmsaitstsiinn; Still it remains proved that the inrior officers charged l w e i d t g h e h o is t; T their negligence the valet de ch , re who remor y the evidence of ted with them on These their inattention to the master been deify The /11i A up her Tb copy duchess came and aided in 'aer chamber, besides ;. Mad'lle de Lug', itution, was to in dismissing her away than fl , lt for their flung clothes, igh Paris. In de Praslin .om the ution. He was r, the regulations t to be otl rt to ti Abe. The Juke of certain I'lle de LuzYt irts, which coil- ely friendship which the children and their former ) come, with Ind de her- . The he letter was written im each the duchess. It has to the Procureur du Rio." to write to the duc n of these reports y of gra order t .ese an, The an the Greet tolemies. Tvity, are older, to which tli Ts bring fort fe, and denounced c wer, " By the death of Bathsheba, Am- ted to the capacity of ited to incite him to zlh. the higher n. There are others g the correct render of Scripture, which d those of all classes ion by the topogra )rk abounds. In the legions and answer Id be 1 `he Affairs of Italy. Henry G. Bohn. in the series, of the lOW so well known as l'his is the best Er " Bohn's ad Foreign al ave already awarded on several occasions our weed of praise to the publisher of these works, which are all of a deservedly establisheed character, for giving to the public an opportunity of pur chasing them at the lowest possible remunerative price. It would be just as needless to offer any laudation of a of established reputation like the one before us, as mild be to extol the advantages of circulating the ;tions of genius and learning, on terms that ccessible to all, and we shall therefore by saying that the present volume is us r espect to those of its predecessors, and is ellished by a we ll-executed engraving of Machiavelli. higher pro may render them ourselves • The Picturesque and Popular History of England, by Thomas Miller. London r David Bogue. We have received the fourth part of this pretty, but really useful and instructive work, which carries us down to the times of Edmund Ironside. It is well calculated to accomplish the object of the author —to furnish the facts of history (which are so often related in a dry hard style, so uninteresting to young minds), in an attractive and interesting garb, by writing them in a familiar man ner. Mr. Miller wishes to give his work " all the fasci nation of fiction without altering a single recorded truth." This is a great improvement on historical novels, inas much as they misrepresent admitted facts, whilst here not a single fact is distorted, though the pleasing style of the former is adopted, and by this means we shall, no doubt, historian s of our young friends more correct and enlarged than they have hitherto been. Each number is embellished with two beautiful steel engravings, bring ing before .fto el i i : o il 1 1 "mind's (. ixr ' s " the scenery and events ren a ulu penstal. yf the I tion m rns are su at, and.involvir in struc 41 the v JCell on MI , afraid that the minister, by having in his pocket the peo ple's money, may be aided, in playing the tyrant, let them s . —lt reflect that the people by withdrawing their money within s Entire," comparatively a short period, have full power to disap ..s the merum of point an ambitious and paralyse a tyrannical governor. .vine; and, indeed, Tn most transactions the creditor has power at least equal 2rum never nieant wine to that of the debtor. If by the Savings' Banks the state et ...- t kind. It meant entire, pledges the people to abstain from violence, the people tude to pers In the same way the by the same means imp ose on the government the neces unmixed.—Talbot's sity of ruling not without a regard to their advantage I And the larger their deposits, the greater security is pr at when we speak of a most classical Or &c., we v hat it means originally, nor anything of th... that is, sincere, genuine, unmixed. Greeks called wine akraton, that i English Etymologies. A. corr lAN SINCE T A will no ere p' the people that their interr. If the National Debt us the following ex parish of Lanmaes, near C re. and adds that " of late t from t ter 1 neglec msessed ( I thereby Ly by the working c Old I respect. The true obj quiry I most c they are r lifted to the habits and wants of founded on the dia in th 'atricia lan to twenty times in a minute, here twenty- , four hour In the dred times in twenty time, the heart, beating on an av per minute, propels into the lungs ounces of blood ; in the course of age seven' one hund hour, five -1 wo pounds; and in twc The whole surf - are - a the nail i. 06" hi I is known 1 and our Co, on which ext 1,1,, 1 and atmospheric ,arated merely air are in contact with'each other, being ser by a moist permeable membrane. TRANSPLANTING TREES.—Some sensli the term Co turer. The Cosset ,t, for the mmen other trees, for transplanting. It is there that at the end of August, a trench should be cut hall way round the tree, cutting off, of course, the extremities of the roots. At the end of September, the trench to,be continued all round the tree, and the whole left open. " This process," says the author, " will produce an early cessation of growth, and consequently a more perfect maturation of the wood. in tender trees, together with .f fresh fibres by which the tree, when trans- planted in November, will be speedily e Here the performance of the operation, by degr vents the sudden shock generally given by transplanting, at the same time as additional active fibrous roots are produced to meet the circumstances. In the removal of trees or shrubs, particularly if rather large, this is doubt less a very judicious mode of proceeding. JENNY LIND AT HAMBURGII—A CUNNING DEVICE.-- , pre- gion, an, ri in the well iianS show gi no liki: Jenny Lind is well known to entertain a strong aversion to publicity or any public demonstration of affection or good-will. During her stay . in Hamburgh she was the guest of Mr. Brunton, whose door was thronged invariably at her entrance or departure by her admiring friends, and to escape the staring of the crowd on one occasion, when she was about to proceed to the theatre, she was observed to leave Mr. Brunton's door, spring into the carriage, and take the front seat, with her back to the horses, and when her companion or attendant followed her, to require her to seat herself in the place of honour; so that the gaping crowd stared at the ma id, an d c h eere d her, and honoured her by sundry vivas, while Jenny Lind, with her handker chief held to her mouth, sat vis-a-vis to her companion, enjoying her disconcerted air, and the ingeniously diverted admiration of the crowd, and using her handkerchief not less to hide her smiles, perhaps her laughter, at the harm less joke she had succeeded in playing off on her numer ous train of admirers, than to conceal her own features from view, and to prevent recognition of the true Jenny Lied, of this distre—__, LETTER FROM TIM DUCHESS TO HER HUSBAND [Written in Tune, 1841.] Wherefore, my beloved, do you refuse to let me your afflietious ? You deprive our life of all the c ng case lade yourself, that independence co] You say that I am exigeante, becau )ur sorrows. You do not like me to have any. Do you then w Tanger to me, and for that, would it not be req mmequ entirely i ;ld I could I become indifferent to the re- earth ! Do you think it possible break long before ? ou your u know ti nt to you ? And person I love 1 ?—would she how it is in your power to console me, and yet you with f societies hold those consolations. I, on the contrary, I see that i you are sad ; I feel within my heart a source of the deep est love, suficient to calm and soothe all your sorrows, the partner of and approved data of Mutual Assurance. These societies - should unite in their constitution the three great elements and you discard me ,ne of British prosperity and strength, namely, intelligence, your life, she whose duty it is equally your plea ., he wealth, and popular influence.—People's Journal. sures and sorrows ? If you were ill, is it not my hand e nt hur- ORIGIN OF THE DON COSSACKS.—The origin of the that would smooth thy pillow ? and are not sorrows dis e period of Cossacks is unknown, and has long been the subject of eases of the mind—of the spirit ? Wherefore, then reject five times antiquarian controversies. It is generally held that peo- me? * * You have a heart to appreciate the joys, the , nd fifty pie and name are derived from Kassachia, mentioned by wants of a loving heart, in which to place full confidence -'dred a writer of the ninth century as a province in the neigh- and find relief for your sorrows. It is the violence of my ' - "he Caucasus ; but of this Kassachia nothing manners that prevents you from placing that confi d e nce while the narndifc - diirs - MT - k In - the ninth me. — Belicyt use, Theobald, four months of sorrow '-- did not appear for four hundred and repentance have chastened me ; it is to love and con rinf 1-n 1-nryntmt nn that I seek your confi- !gym I not your wife, -sere is great reason to believe that sole you, auu nub _ _ kis of Tartar origin, and means adven- deuce. I give you my word never to try again the as- I:8 themselves regard the name as of cendancy over you; lam fully aware of your superior Tnificance, but only as a designation given character and mind ; I only wish to share your life, to As now, and, so far as we know embellish it , a nd p our balm u p on y our wounds. You left - w‘nm lIPPaliSe you thouzht that I wished to gain the wear u. in the but to name of my love, in the name of yours, by all that I hold ...almuck tr... _,..ghbourhood of most sacred and most dear, I only seek your love and your ,file in Bessarabia a medley of gipsies and confidence as you have mine. I will blindly obey you ; r people are called the Cossacks of the Dneistr. In- I will no longer torment you by jealousy ; I shall never regard to the Don Cossacks, the most ancient and most give you a word of reproach or of counsel. My repent important of all tile tribes who have ever borne the name, ante is too sincere ; I have suffered too much to ret urn to they became first known in history in the t hir teenth cen- my past faults. We are both very young, Theobald ! tury, on the dismemberment of the Tartar empire ;in the Do not condemn us both to solitude. How ! We love reign of Ivan IV., they put themselves under the protec- each other, we are both of us pure, and shall we live apart Lion of Russia, and since that period their history has from each other both in body and in mind ? Do not let been blended with that of the empire. They differ from your heart be a sufferer from a little feeling of amour pro the mountaineers of the Caucasus in physiological charac- pre : I swear unto you that I only seek your affection and •'^ and from the Circassians in language, in reli- your confidence ; I shall be the loving and obedient part -narked fact, that while the Circas- ner of your life. My friend, confidence is the bond of mar eat skill in manufactures, the Cossacks have riage souls, their mutual confessions are their caresses, and _6 for any employment of the kind. They are, union, happiness, and virtue are the fruits. Believe me, ,fiably, of the Sciavonic stock, mingled with Circassian I shall never abuse your confidence ; your confessions and other bloods ; and this intermixture, together with will be received in my bosom with the same mystery and their republican institutions, may have imparted to them affection as thy caresses. Take again your own Fanny. the national and intellectual vigour by which, as com- Try her but for a short time with love and affection, and pared to their neighbours, they have been and are distin- you will find that you will be much happier than living in guished. Catherine 11. determined to remodel their or- solitude. You seek a change ; but are you really happy ganization, with the object of their being incorporated Oh ! no, you are not, with a heart like yours, and the life with her people ; but, though her plans have been con- we are leading. The only happiness of your wife consists stantly pursued, it is only at the present hour that they in pour life and support. Turn not then a deaf ear unto are in course of being accomplished. Every interference, her entreaties; unto her vows — to he r re p entance, for she however, with their rights and usages, has been in a very I loves you, and her whole life will be past in love and gra high degree unpopular ; and had Napoleon only sent emis- titude towards you. You have driven her from your bed saries to the Don, with promises to re-establish amongst and from your heart ; could you do more if she was false? the people there their ancestral constitution, the issue of She spends her days and nights in tears ; she waits out the campaign of 1812 might :lave been wholly different. side Your door, but dares not enter, for fear you should The Count Platoff of that brilliant period was the last reproach her for it on the morrow. Mon anti, in the Hettman, or Atantan, of the Cossacks ; and on his death, name of the many dear remembrances which you bid me and under the pretence of rewarding the nation for its invoke, should I ever have offended you, hearken to me; services, thp functions of the station were suppressed, give me again your confidence, and your love, and open while the title was conferred on the heir-apparent. —y your heart to the woman whose life is devoted to you. Univenyit/ Magazine. I 011 : I Will never abuse it, how have (Alou, tun OLD: suondent ser day of J I in other word no historical b them in former tim is thus applied not Only to the DOn Cos , Turconian and '-"Ls in the ne' honourable. All D keep A! for this removed hence she would make life too hard ly God ! what an existence ! What is curious L sane. I thought him so different, Oh, he )een so ; I could never have loved him if he for him is that I am had always been sci: I could never have loved him if he had always been what he is ! Certainly there was stuff in his heart, in his understanding ; but the want of firm principles of morality and religion, and his idleness mind, have caused him to succumb to sensual 139- ishes to educate his daughters. ,ted himself! He has not tad with all this he Flow completely has he isoh one real, 'serious friend He has no connections but nd which have become claims from his weakness when he wished to detach himself from them. How frightful it is ! He drags after him, the exigencies of women with whom he has been connected. And yet how bizarre are men ! He has always sacrificed, oppressed, wounded, humiliated, ill-treated, and abandoned me for persons whom he did not love. For my part, I have loved only him, and with a passion inexpressible—an ardour which astonishes me ; and now I know not but at the bottom of his heart he perhaps prefers me to those women, whom he despises and fears ; and I, I am well disenchanted with him. How ever forbe by w a will all m th p i l s e e te nd re ? eoe l e d il o ia n ti o o t n,as believe w that this be desirable can our children. He will always avoid me, because he is conscious of his wrong, and I shall never seek him but from duty to my children. A feeling of shame will al ways prevent my making advances to a man, even though my husband, when I doubt of my love for him, and when I feel that other ideas, repressed for so many years, have, rather than my affection, urged me to his arms." The number of letters laid before the Court of Peers, some of them without date, is thirty-three. Only one is written by Mdlle Deluzy , a nd one b y Marshal Sebastiani to the duke : the others are all in the hand - writing of the unfortunate d u chess. Most of them bear no date. The same tone pervades them all. They all breathe a feeling of deep love toward the duke, who had withdrawn his affection from his wife, mingled with bursts of Jealousy and prayers for the welfare of her children. They are a rep_Ftiltioamn o fo f o e ra ac i l l i y o a th a e a r. pb W ysi e eall su y blo w in orn a feottexbty thisracs long and cruel struggle. You have entered a darksome path ; you are leading our children towards perdition, and bring ing them up in wrong principles, and teaching them to despise their mother, by showing them the example of internal discord at home, where a third person is allowed t o usurp the place of their mother, of your wife." In another letter, without date, the duchess says :—" To entrust my children to another ! Oh, no, Theobald, you th he e trouble t u h n a e t of, you ae have not the right to do it. T o a b an d on m y children to a giddy, shameless creature, w ith ou t principles, without tact, can you be so weak, s o d e l u d e d !" After this, the following letter in June last, runs oddly— ` a J writingu7 n . —wMetlola, me on d a e n m d o t i h s tlei—n subject which I that deeply state regret y )- o o a r u took ooto care k for my children makes so natural. If circumstances which materially concerned their interests precipitated an event which I looked upon but a few days since as still far distant, you may be certain that I shall only be the Aid so end THE COUI lajesty, Prince the Princes Royal Hcius Loch Lagga Majesty tak tic scenery witt Albert is rilakin kinds of g adjoining: The Court is its return to the metropol On Friday, th her Majesty On Saturda of Aberdeen On St —;41„ 1-1 lbert, the Prim ?.nded b ral off 1. which the pla z dreadful slaugl fof Aberdeen Marquis c e a pp o sed, ill of Wales, and )TLAND at Ardverekie on )f Abercorn. lier Prince - t the various Ind forests :otland, on 18th inst rived on a visit to sly additions to the &bercorn and the Earl and Prince attended the perforMatice of divine worship at Ardverikie. On Monday Prince Albert, accompanied by Prince Lei" nengen, the'lluke of Norfolk, and Mr. Anson, went out to Ben Alder, on a deer-stalking excursion. The forest on the sides of this mountain is famous for the number' and excellence of the deer, and the mountain itself is re markable as having been the hiding-place of Charles Ed— ward, after the battle of Culloden. The retreat, on Ben Alder is thus described by Home :—" It was situated on the face of a very rough, high, and rocky mountain, called Letternilichk, still a part of Ben Alder, full of great static` and crevices, and some scattered woodinterspersed. The habitation called the Cage, on the face of that mountain• was within a small thick bush of wood. There were first some rows of trees laid down in order to have a floor for A habitation ; and as the place was steep, this raised the lower side to an equal height with the other ; and thes,e trees, in the way of joists or planks, were levelled wit' earth or gravel. There were betwixt the trees, growing naturally on their own roots, some stakes fixed' in the earth, which, with the trees, were interwoven with ropes , made of heath and birch twigs, up to the top of the Cage' it being of a round or rather oval shape, and the whol e thatched and covered over with fog. The whole fabric hung, as it were, by a large tree, which reclined troll' one end, all along the roof, to the other,, which gay` it the name of the Cage, and by chance there happen to be two stones at a small distance from one ano the i on the side next the precipice, resembling the pillars 5: a chimney, where the fire was placed. The smoke had „, vent out here, all along the fall of the rock, which was n' much of the same colour as to discover no difference in t'' , clearest day." This Cage is stillinexistence,and from its ce ll " i nexion with the eventful career of Prince Charles , is e' garded with considerable respect by the Highland `,g' The deer-stalking party on the mountain could not hs,, r been far distant from it, but whether it was visited "4: them or not, was not ascertained. The sport of the i tI J, was not remarkably good, a single stag only having fel: itf. to the shot of Prince Albert. In the course of th e the Queen, accompanied by one of the ladies in waitil ventured out on the Loch in her barge, which °i v manned by six rowers belonging to the crew of he Royal yacht. There was also a fisherman on board, ..d, baited a few lines, and after throwing them overbotit,:o committed them into her Majesty's hands. Not gIIL minutes elapsed till a fine trout rewarded the Royal t`r.vo and but for an unlucky entanglement of the lines, l. more would have graced her Majesty's piscatory triunav After spending about half-an-hour on the Loch: her•P' icoty returned to the 140,dge, .fill trap I~ l