The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-03-12 00:00:00

ititeraturt. POETRY. TO MR. RICHARD OASTLER. THE POOR MAN AND HIS PARISH CHURCH. (By the Vicar of Morwenstow, Cornwall.) The poor have hands, and feet, and eyes, Flesh, ar,d a feeling mind ; They breathe the breath of mortal sighs— They are of human kind ! They weep such tcari as others shed, And now and then they smile ; For sweet to them is that poor bread • They win with honest toil! The poor men have their wedding-day, And children c'irnb their knee, — They have not many friends, for they Are in such misery. They sell their youth, their skill, their pains, For hire, in hill and glen ; The very blood within their veins, It flows for other men ! They should have roofs to call their own When thee grow old and bent, Meek-houses built of dark-grey stone Worn labour's monument There should they dwell beneath the thatch ! With threshold calm and free.— No stranger's hand should lift the latch To mark their poverty. Fast by the church those walls should stand, Her aisles in youth they trod, They have no home in all the land Like that old house of God ! There ! there ! the sacrament was shed That gave them heavenly birth, And lifted up the poor man's head With princes of the earth. There in the chancel's voice of praise Their simple vows were pour'd ; And angels look'd with equal gaze, On Lazarus and his Lord ! There too, at last, they calmly sleep Where hallow'd blossoms bloom, — And eyes as ford and faithful weep, As o'er the rich man's tomb ! They told me of an ancient home Beside a churchyard wall, Where roses round the porch would roam, And gentle jasmines fall : There, dwelt an old man, worn and blind, Poor, and of lowliest birth; He eem'd the last of all his kind, Hs had no friend on earth ! Men saw him, till his eyes grew dim, At morn and evening -tide, Pass 'mid the graves with tottering limb To the gray chancel's side : There knelt he down, and meekly pray'd The prayers his youth had known— Words, by the Old Apostles made, In tongues of ancient tone ! At matin.time, at evening hour, He bent with reverent knee, The dial carved npon the tower Was not more true than he. This lasted till the blindness fell In shadows round his bed And on those walls he lov'd so well He look'd—and they were fled ! Then would he watch and fondly turn, If feet of men were there, To tell them how his soul would yearn For the old place of prayer : And some would lead him on, to stand While fast their tears would fall, Until he felt beneath his hand, The long-accustom'd wall! Then joy in those dim eyes would melt, Faith found the for.oer tone — His heart, within his bosom, felt The touch of every stone ! He died—he slept beneath the dew In his own grassy mound— The corpse within the coffin knew That consecrated ground ! I know not why—but when they tell Of houses fair and wide, Where troops of poor men go to dwell In chambers side by side, — I dream of that old cottage door With garlands overgrown, And wish the children of the poor Had flowers to call their own. And when they vaunt, that in those walls They have their Worship Day, Where the stern signal coldly calls The prison'd poor to pray : I think upon that ancient home Beside the churchyard wall Where roses round the porch would roam, And gentle jasmines fall. I see the old man of my lay, His gray head bow'd and bare, He kneels by one dear wall to pray— The sunlight in his hair. Well, they may strive as wise men will, To work with wit and gold, I think my own dear Cornwall still Was happier of old. 0, for the Poor Man's Church again, With one roof over all, Where the true hearts of Cornish men Might beat beside the wall ; The Altars, where in holier days Our fathers were forgiven; Who went with meek and faithful ways Through the old aisles to Heaven. CARDINAL DE RETZ, OR THE COURTIER'S PLOT. BY PETER POPJOY, Esq. (For the Liverpool Standard.) CHAPTER XV.—(Continued.) DURING this terrific scene, Fabien had suffered the most inteßse torture. Many times the Scholar endea voured to drag him away, but he seemed rivetted to the spot by some invisible power. " Here, then," said he at length, " is the result of all his intrigue and ambition ! A prey to the hate of both parties ! Nothing is left for him but to die de spised. My poor father ! what would you have said to have seen your much-loved son thus covered with igno miny and opprobrium ! " " Come, come," said the Scholar impatiently; " think of yourself ; think of Madame de Croissi. Her fate and yours depend upon our success this day, and we are losing precious moments. Come, sir." Fabien sighed • casting about him his mantle, he al lowed himself to be led away. The young men tra versed the ante-room leading to the Grand Chamber, and then turned into a narrow passage, at the extremity of which they found a man armed to the teeth, standing as a sentinel at a low doorway. The Scholar pronounced a few words in a whisper, when the man, opening the door, motioned them to enter a sort of glazed gallery, where they could see all that passed in the great hall of parliament. At each extremity of the Grand Chamber were two cabinets of light woodwork, which were called " the lanterns," from the glass windows which closed them in on the side of the hall. It was in one of these lanterns that the Scholar and Fabien now took their places. In side the windows were curtains, which might be drawn or withdrawn at pleasure, so that those within could or could not he seen, yet still be able to observe all that was going forward below. Th, se places were generally occupied by the noble ladies of the court, when they wished to be present on occasions of interest. When the two young men entered the cabinet, they found themselves in perfect obscurity, and they were several minutes before they could distinguish surrounding objects. The " lantern " was divided into two parts by a low balustrade, like those in the boxes of our theatres. They found themselves alone in one of these divisions, but in the other was seated a lady, clad in black, wear ing a mask, who gazed intently down into the hall through an aperture in the curtain. As it was generally understood and believed that this sitting would be the forerunner of some great event be tween the contending factions, it required no little cou rage in a woman to risk her person so near the scene of the anticipated conflict. The lady did not seem to entertain any fear of personal danger, but continued to observe with intense interest all that passed before her eyes. She was agitated at intervals, and her breast heaved with emotion, as some well-known voice caught her ear •, and such sodas her intentness, that she took no notice of the entrance of the Scholar and his companion. The former examined the lady with some attention, when he made a sign to Fabien to advance to the bal cony, to observe the proceedings. This assembly usually possessed an air of simplicity, grandeur, and majesty, of which our modern legislative gatherings can afford us but little idea. Oh ! there were illustrious men in that assembly—bright names that will glow for ever upon the page of history. But, unfortunately, at this period the, at other times, grave assembly was agitated by passions the most violent and debasing. At the moment that Fabien stepped down to the balcony of the lantern, a violent altercation was taking place between the Prince de Cond6 and the Coadjutor. The Prince was passion ate, haughty, and hasty in his language, like all m en quick in action ; and he made the halt-.resound with hi s voice. De Gondi was cool, polite, skilful, insinuating, and satirical; but firm and opinionative, replying with all the forms of respect, but without ceding to his oppo nent a single point. The younger councillors of the Chamber of Inquiry appeared to take a warm part either on one side or the other, following the opinions of either leader ; but the older members and the presidents only regarded these contentions with profound grief, and deeply to regret that so disorderly a scene should take place in the sacred temple of the law. " Sir," cried the Prince in a loud voice, "it is posi tively disgraceful that an ambitious ecclesiastic should thus dare to profane the sanctuary of justi ce . T he pa lace is surrounded by your troops ; your people have passwords, and rallying signs, and arms. Truly, Mons. le Coadjutor this is intolerable." Paul de Gondi smiled, and bowed profoundly. "I do not deny," said he, with ironical politeness, " I do not deny having brought with me many friends to maintai n 1 the liberty of thought, and perhaps to defend my life. But will your highness inform me why, if I am consi dered thus guilty, you have yourself come here with so numerous and gallant a company ? The Prince drew up with a haughty air. " Gentle- men," said he, addressing those around him, " did you ever hear such a question? A Coadjutor of an Arch bishop of Paris dares to put himself in comparison with myself, Louis de Bourbon ! Whence is this insolence? Dces Paul de Gondi dispute the right of precedence with the first prince of the blood " A profound silence, the silence of dismay, reigned throughout the hall ; but Gondi did not appear moved by this vehement apostrophe. " I have never thought to dispute the right of prece dence with your highness," replied Gondi in a silky voice ; " and I do not believe that there is throughout the kingdom a man so bold or insolent as to say so; but there are persons, in this hall even, who, by their sta tion, cannot nor will not cede precedence but to the King; and your highness ought not to be ignorant of that, nor forget it." The model ation, but artfulness, of this reply drew forth a murmur of applause, and the noise interrupted the proceedings several minutes ; but such was the attention which Fahien and the Scholar paid to what was passing before them, that they did not remark at the moment the singular emotion of their unknown neighbour. Her head was stretched forward, she held her breath, and lifted up a corner of the curtain before her, as if to examine more clearly the countenance of the chief of his party. When Paul de Gondi stopped, she let the curtain hastily fall, and said with agitation, throwing herself back on her seat, as if she could no longer contain her satisfac tion, " Well said, Paul de Gondi ; thou least not given way an inch." These words, pronounced in a muttering tone, did not distinctly reach the ears of Fabien ; but the Scholar, who knew well who the lady was, touched Fabien in a significant manner. The lady, the moment her agitation was over, leant once more on the balcony, and was again in deep attention to the scene. In the meanwhile silence was re-established, and the Prince de Conde replied , A ith disdain— " You have heard that, gentlemen. M. de Gondi thinks that he is of that dignity that he can only give way to the King. He perhaps will be good enough to explain to us how the Coadjutor to the Archbishop of Paris can assume this position ? " " I did not dare to say so," replied the prelate ; "hut if it were the case, I believe lew persons would not but cede it to me at this present moment." " It is a defiance hurled at me by this proud-souled priest," cried the Prince, making a movement as if to throw himself upon his antagonist. A hundred cries arose from all_ parts of the hall ; every one arose ; the presidents—Mathew Mole at the head—cast themselves between the two rivals, and, with tears in their eyes, supplicated them to put an end at once to this terrific scene, which could not but prove disastrous to all. It was a most imposing spectacle to see these illustrious old men, in their majestic costume, prostrating them selves at the feet of the prelate and the prince, exhorting them to take pity on the state. " Reflect, sir," said Omer Talon to the Coadjutor, in a pathetic tone, " that you are the minister of our altars ; that you cannot wish to see contention and blood. Oh, my lord ! the first arquebus discharged will be echoed to the very limits of France ; the first drop of blood spilled will be the springs of an ocean that will inundate the country." " My lord ! " said the first president in another group to the Prince de Conde, " your highness is the nearest heir to the throne : pray give way to him. You have saved France in twenty battles : would you plunge us in a civil war? Prince of the royal blood, ought you to profane the temple of the laws ? " But these words were lost. The peers and heads of the two parties surrounded their chiefs to support them. The younger councillors did not fail to suspect that the daggers hidden in their robes would be required. At length the voice of the Prince was heard above all. " - Gentlemen," said he proudly, " I am called Louis de Bourbon ; and say what they will, it is not I that will be the ruin of the state. I beg M. La Rochefaucault will give orders to my friends without to retire peacably home." " In that case," said the Coadjutor, " I will go myself and dismiss my adherents. lam a man of peace ; and say what they will, I have a horror of shedding blood." A murmur of satisfaction rewarded this wise determi nation ; a smile soon lit up the most austere faces; and while the Coadjutor and the Duke de Rochefaucault went out to dismiss their partisans, the presidents retook their places. Conversation commenced : it was like a moment of calm between two tempests. In the mean. time the unknown lady leant her face upon her hand, continuing to indulge in the most profound meditations. The Scholar drew towards Fabien, and said in a low voice, while he noiselessly drew aside the curtain of the lantern, " M. de Croissi, it is not necessary now to hide yourself, and you can throw off that cloak, which must almost suffocate you. But tell me, do you not recognise the lady who sits near us, and who seems to take so much interest in the proceedings ? " " How should I know her ?" said Fabien, smiling. " You know well, Eustache, that I cannot be acquainted with any ladies in Paris." " You must nevertheless speak to her," replied the Scholar, with a mysterious air; " for, to hide nothing from you, it is entirely on her account that you have been brought here-" The Scholar was interrupted by a new event, the in terest of which absorbed the faculties of both. We have said that a sort of comparative calm was esta blished in the Great Chamber, as soon as the Coadjutor and M. de La Itochefaucault had left it to dismiss their friends. Suddenly the most piercing cries were heard without, and all listened attentively. The next moment a councillor on the side of De Gondi ran in, crying in a voice of lamentation, " To the rescue—to the rescue ! They have assassinated the Coadjutor ! " This news emptied the great hall at once. Cries of despair and shouts of joy were at length heard on all sides. Mole cast his eyes to heaven ; he pushed for ward, and implored the crowd to let him pass. The next moment bright swords and sharp poignards were flashing on all sides. _ _ _ Expecting to hear of the death of the Coadjutor, the masked lady seemed struck with a sort of delirium. She cried in a choking voice, wringing her hands, " They have killed him ! It is for my sake and in my service he has died. Fly, sirs, fly ! " continued she, addressing two gentlemen who stood silent and motionless at the end of the lantern ; " hasten to his aid ! Revenge him ! I swear that he shall be avenged ! " A person whom Fabien had not till now perceived in the recess of the lantern, stepped forward, and spoke to her in a low voice, but with some warmth. Fabien on his part was completely paralysed for a moment by the announcement of this event, but uttering a piercing cry, be cast his mantle from him, and rushed towards the door, exclaiming, " The Coadjutor is my friend, my benefactor; the man who has braved all to save me. Open —open the door ! " he shouted, striking the panels with the pummel of his sword. The Scholar rushed towards him, and held him by the arm. " Whither would you go P " said he. " Mad man ! think of your safety." "My safety ! What care I for life if I can but re venge my protector? Did he think of his own, when he saved me from the anger of the Queen P " " Silence, in the name of all the saints ! " " Open, open ! " repeated Fabien, still battering at the door, the guardian of which had fled, alarmed at the disturbance. " You have no one to deliver, nor vengeance to take upon any person," said Eustace, looking suddenly into thehall; "he is here unharmed." " WhO ?" " The Coadjutor ; it was a false report." Fabien retook his seat quickly near the balcony, whence he beheld the Coadjutor entering the Great Hall, leaning on M. Champlatreux, the son of the Pre sident Mole. He was pale, and had really run conside rable danger. The Duc de la Rochefaucault, who had left with him, and who was a mad partizan of the Prince, . . . seized him by the throat as they - went out, and would have strangled him had it not been for Champlatreux, who ran to his assistance. At the sight of the Coadjutor safe and without wound, the masked lady uttered a cry of joy; and Fabien, in the transports of his delight, congratulated the Scholar on his escape in a manner almost amounting to frenzy. But from this moment the lady did not seem to concen trate all her attention upon the hall : she now and then turned to look at De C ro i ss i, an d several times she fixed upon him her piercing eyes, which sparkled through the apertures in her mask. Paul de Gondi, having reassumed his seat, made a sign to obtain silence. Sir," said he, addressing the first president with a firm tone of voice, " I have believed till now that you were my enemy ; hut the immense service your son has just rendered me proves to me how much I have been deceived. I declare publicly that I owe my lifetolCl: de Champlatreux, and I tender to you, as well as to him, my sincere thanks." Mole was greatly touched. He beheld his son near the Coadjutor, and he made a sign that he could not speak. Thus began the friendship between Paul de Gondi and the first president that never afterwards was broken. The Prince de Conde, in the meantime, conversed with considerable warmth, amongst the counsellors and peers of his party. It was necessary for him to make some ap propriate reply to the speech of the Coadjutor, and he did not appear willing altogether to blame the action of Larochefoucault, who was one of his most devoted adhe- rents. " Gentlemen," said he, at length, " I deeply regret that the zeal of one of my friends should have thus been the cause of annoyance to M. le Coadjutor ; but M. le Coadjutor should recollect that he has not always felt so much horror at my death as I have this day when his seemed near." _ _ " I know to what your highness alludes," replied the prelate, calmly ; " but your highness is deceived, if you believe me capable for a minute of entertaining a thought of harm towards you. You perhaps," continued he, casting his rapid glance on the lantern, " are not aware that I could, if I chose, produce here to-day a witness — an undoubted witness—whose avowal of the truth would force you to do justice to the loyalty of my sentiments to wards your highness ?" "Lean fo rwar d !" w hi spere d t h e S c h o l ar qu i c kly t o Fabien ; " do not hide yourself." The lady in the mask appeared agitated and ill at THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. ease, now casting her glances on the hall, now rivetting them on Fabien, who understanding the allusions of De Gondi, coloured as if all eyes were resting upon him, in stead of those only of his unknown neighbour. " A witness !" repeated the Prince, with an air of de fiance: " a witness ! who could only furnish evidence that you have but lately conspii ed against my life. Bring him here, M. le Coadjutor —bring him here; and if you can prove what you assert, I will hold out to you the hand of friendship. Bring here that person, if he is not already here, and I swear to you, if he can give me a clear ex planation of your designs, he shall receive marks of my regard. Would to Heaven, my lord, I could believe you innocent of all the foul acts that are laid to your charge. If your witness be really here, let him show himself—let him speak. I promise him my protection and my sup port." So saying, the Prince cast a rapid glance around him, and the masked lady' could scarcely hide her emotion. Seeing his eye rest upon Fabien, whose person was now plainly visible to all the assembly, she half rose, as if to give him a sign or word. Fabien did not stir. Paul de Gondi appeared as if he took delight in keeping the ge neral attention in suspense. " Your highness deceives yourself," said he at length, in a cold tone of voice, " and you do not rightly understand my words. The witness to which I allude is God, who sees all, who understands all, and who knows that I have never joined in any plot against your highness's life." This explanation caused some murmuring. A disap pointment was experienced by many; but the masked lady evidently showed her satisfaction, and the Scholar noticed that she spoke for some time in a whisper to one of the unknown persons near her. The meeting, after this violent discussion, presented nothing remarkable, except a quarrel between the Duc de la Rochefoucault and the Duc de Brissac ; but these incidents need not be particularized in this veritable his tory. Ten o'clock at length sounded, which was the usual hour for the separation of the chamber, and the President announced that the sitting was over. A gene ral movement followed this announcement, and the mem bers of the Parliament commenced leaving the grand chamber in groups. Fabien and the Scholar arose to join the Coadjutor in the hall, and they had now no dif ficulty in obtaining egress, as the guard had returned to his post on finding the alarm had ceased. Nevertheless Vireton glanced w.th an uneasy look into the adjoining partition of the lantern, and appeared to quit the spot with reluctance. When they had arrived in the passage, they found the door of the next compartment guarded by several persons enveloped in mantles. The young men were about to pass, when one of the gentlemen laid his hand on Fabien's shoulder, and said, in a rough but still kindly tone— " One moment, Monsieur de Croissi ; there are some persons here who claim your acquaintance." Fabien recognised at once the stout Marechale D'Hoc quncourt, and through the opening of his mantle he per ceived that he was well armed, his belt being stuck full of pistols. " Indeed, Marechale," said Fabien, eagerly seizing the proffered band ; " I am very glad to meet a man who does not shrink from defending a friend in a moment of peril," " Well, well, my young friend," replied the Mare chale, in a suppressed voice, " if you have preserved a kindly remembrance of me, believe me, upon my part, I have not forgotten your courageous and chivalrous bear ing ou Pont Neuf, as well as elsewhere. But on this point we will be silent. " There is within a person who desires to sec you, and who believes that she has to re pair some wrongs that she admits she has entailed upon you." " What, the masked lady ?" " Do you not know her ?" ..... . . Fabieii was now informed, what the reader has no doubt shrewdly suspected, that the masked lady wa4 Anne of Austria. D'Hocquincourt, without giving Fabien time to reply, introduced him into the closet. The Queen was wrapped up closely in her mantle, and she seemed to be expe riencing strong emotion. Fabien de Croissi was about to drop on his knee before her. " Remain standing," said the Regent, making a sign to him with her hand. I can give you but a minute's interview. Young sir, what I have this day seen has shewn me who are my true friends. Tell M. le Coadju tor that his sovereign is but too happy to have a subject as faithful as himself. I have read his thoughts in what concerns you. He knew that you would find me here, and he wished to prove to me your fidelity was as unim- peachable as his Own. I avow to you, sir, that if you had pronounced one word in presence of Parliament of what you are so well acquainted with, the greatest evils might have accrued to myself and to France. From this moment, sir, you need not hide yourself. You are free. Now that my anger is calmed down, I can appreciate the motives of your conduct, and I freely confess that I ad- mire them greatly, and perhaps I shall find means yet of proving how highly I estimate your character." " Madame," said Fabien, gratefully, " your Majesty's mercy and forgiveness I deeply feel,but may I yet implore that your good graces be extended towards a young lady in whom you once—may I be allowed to say—took some interest." " Ah I Montglat," replied the Queen, with slight irri tation of manner, " that is another affair." The Queen seemed to reflect for a moment. " Well, well, forget and forgive ; I pardon her also ; I suppose you have the means of telling her this." " Madame, the lady of whom you speak is my wife." " Indeed !" said the Queen, with surprise ; " buyshe continued, smiling, " L see through all this the skill and address of the Coadjutor exemplified. He would not have one pardoned without the other. Well, well ! tell your patron that I have shewn kindness to you both for his sake. As for you, come to-night to the Palace with your --your wife. We will see what can he done for your fu ture fortune. The Marechale here, who is your friend, will introduce you. Adieu." The delighted young man would have spoken some words of gratitude ; but the Regent interrupted him, and turned to the Marechale. saying— " Come, Marechale, your arm." The Queen immediately left the closet, followed by the gentlemen who formed her guard of honour, and the little party turned into a dark passage, leaving the Palais-de- Justice by a private way. This unlooked-for, unhoped-for event, almost struck Fabien speechless with surprise. The next moment the Scholar, who had concealed himself behind the partition of the adjoining "lantern," and had heard all that passed, immediately on the Queen's departure, jumped from his hiding-place, and besought Fabien to follow him to the hall. They quickly found the Coadjutor, who stood in the midst of his friends. As soon as he perceived the young men, he approached them. " Well P" said he, inquiringly. " All has succeeded, my lord, even beyond our wishes," exclaimed the Scholar, gaily ; " pardon for both ; and they are to appear at court to-night ; M. Fabien has per formed his part throughout as well as if he knew all our projects." ‘ 1 Bravo !" exclaimed the prelate, rubbing his hands. " And it is entirely through you, my lord, that the Queen has pardoned us, and as some little token of kind- ness for the devotedness" you have shewn in her cause to day." " Ah, ha ! she is then satisfied with my devotion," said the Coadjutor, maliciously putting his hand up to his neck - :, which was still swelled from the effects of Laroche- foucault's attack ! but I should be sorry to give her every day such proofs of my adherence. But it is time to se parate. Come, let us return to the Cloister." So saying, he commenced descending the steps to the Rue de la Barillerie, with his adherents, while Conde, with his, retired by the staircase of La Sainte Chapelle." " And so terminated," says the Coadjutor, in his Me moirs, " the morning that was nearly destroying Paris." (To be concluded in our next.) NOTICES. Fraser's Magazine. London : G. W. Nickisson, 215, Regent-street. The present number of Fraser, we must say it, exhibits a falling off from its usual standard of excellence, which we are sorry to see. It contains, however, a few articles of great merit, which redeem the mediocre character of the remainder. " A Summer Hour in Pope's Garden at Twickenham" is a lively gossiping communication, and the " Parallel between the Collections of Science in Paris and London" is interesting. The Reminiscences of Prince Metternich, by " one who has a good memory," are concluded in this number, and are fully equal to the preceding sketches by the same writer. " The Luck of Barry Lyndon" is continued in a graphic style, and is very amusing. The Bur n i ng o f M oscow, by Captain Sabertash, is boldly written, and, whether the fact be so or not, bears evidence of the writer's having mingled in the tragedy which he delineates. " Fanny Elssler at the Havana," " A walk across Bohemia," " The Monk Campanella and his Works," a Germanic extravaganza, called " The Turret Clock," a paper on the chemists of the past century, and some amusing verses by Mr. M. A. Titmarsh, make up the remainder of the literary contents. The political article, " the Country versus the League," contains some excellent remarks upon the unconstitu tional character of this and other associations, and the growing indisposition on the part of the public to attempt the attainment of favorite measures by means other tha n those which the constitution has pointed out as the legitimate o nes . Th e ar ti c l e starts some serious points for reflection. Dublin University Magazine. W. Curry, jun., and Co., Dublin ; W. S. Orr and Co.. London. The number for this month is a very able one, full of amusing, interesting, and valuable matter. " The Mis haps of Mr. Latitat Nabhim" are very rich, and promise further food for laughter; whilst the romance reader will find a store of interest in the fortunes of the beautiful " Arrah Neil." Of a more serious description, we have a second arti c l e upon the mysterious agency of Mesmer ism ; a review of Lord John Russell's newly-publisbed " Correspondence of John fourth Duke of Bedford " ; a notice of the quarrel now pending between the Jesuits of France and the University of. Paris, as described by M. Lamartine; and a lecture. delivered by Mr. Butt on be half of the Zoological Society of Dublin. The poetical portion of the contents comprises a notice of and extracts from Miss Swanwick's translation of Goethe's Iphigenia, and some very gracefully-written poems by Mrs. Dalkeith Holmes. The political article is a short comment upon the recent state prosecutions, in which the necessity of firmness on the part of government, in visiting with ade quate punishment O'Connell and his confederates, is ably insisted upon. Blackwood's Magazine. We scarcely remember being more entertained, and we may add instructed, than by a perusal of the greater part of this magazine for the present month. Always good, as a whole, it is on this occasion, we think, (to employ mercantile parlance,) above the usual average. The first article, on " Ethiopia," is a review of a recent admirable work, " The Highlands of Ethiopia," by Major W. Corn wallis Harris, of the East India Company's Civil Engi neers, who, fro'm the high estimate formed by the Gover nor in Council in Bombay of his talent and enterprise, as exhibited in his previously-published travels through the territories of Maselakatze to the tropic of Capricorn, was in 1841 selected to conduct a diplomatic mission to " Sa hela Selasse, the King of Shoa, in Southern Abyssinia, whose capital" (continues the letter of instructions) " is supposed to be about 400 miles inland from the .port of Tajura, on the African coast." The narrative of the gallant major furnishes the groundwork of an interesting sketch of the perilous approach to Shoa from Aden, on the coast of Arabia, (which is fully described,) through a volcanic and scorching country intersperced with parched and rocky mountains, heaps of cinders, and almost boiling lakes; and the surprise and joy of the mission, when, after almost indescribable sufferings from heat, want of water, and fatigue, they reached the promised land, and found it lovely and verdant, so richly cultivated as to re semble England herself, with cities, villages, hamlets, and cottages; and, above all, peopled by Christians, albeit displaying a strange admixture of civilised and savage life. The mission, which took numerous presents, was well and hospitably received. The monarch and his people were found to be tractable, and renounced several of their superstitious rites and savage customs at the desire of the strangers, who ingratiated themselves by the presents they bestowed. The chief object of the embassy was to form a treaty of commerce with England, and in this the major succeeded. H e ex p resses hi mse lf. says th e re viewer, ardently and eloquently on the hopes of com merce which might be maintained by Great Britain with this little-known but productive part of the world. It produces goid and gold dust, ivory, ostrich feathers, pel tries, spices, wax, and precious gums. "No quarter of the globe more abounds in vegetable and mineral pro ductions than tropical Africa; and in the populous, fer tile, and salubrious portions lying immediately north of the equator, the very highest capabilities are presented for the employment of British capital." Coal has also been found; cotton of the primest quality is everywhere a weed ; and the finest-flavoured coffee may be grown. But we must refer to the article itself, which will be pe rused with the deepest interest by all who are interested in the extension of our commerce and the civilisation of Africa, for which Abyssinia presents a most inviting and highly promising point of operation.—" The Pirates of Segna,' (part first,) is a well-told and interesting ro mance, founded on historical facts. " Marston, or the Memoirs of a Statesman," is continued with unabated vigour, and is full of military and court adventure. There are several amusing pieces in prose and poetry, Which we have not yet had leisure to peruse ; and the number closes with an article on " Free Trade and Protection," in whicl the writer ably exposes the system advocated by thi Leaguers, especially with reference to old and new states We elsewhere supply some extracts. The Farmer's Magazine. London : Joseph Rogerson 24, Norfolk-street, Strand. This useful publication contains this month more than its usual quantity of valuable and instructive matter for the agriculturist. It has at least fifty articles, in the form of letters, reports, &c., in each of which some vital ques tion to the farmer and the landholder is discussed, the result of some experiment detailed, or some judicious advice as to tillage, seeds, manure, &c., conveyed. We know of no work more deserving of the support of those engaged in farm pursuits, or interested in the property of the soil, than this publication ; and it is peculiarly so at a crisis like the present, when it is beginning to be very generally admitted that, if the people of Great Britain consent to continue their protection of the land, the own ers and cultivators of that land must, in return, strain every energy, adopt every judicious improvement in their modes of cultivation, and even make large outlay in drain age, implements, &c., to make the land afford a full sup. ply of food, at a reasonable price, for the people. In this publication agriculturists will find an excellent guide to enable them to operate with advantage, and with some degree of certainty, based upon experience, of arriving at the results at which they aim. The number is illustrated this month with excellent engravings of Peach, the Broughton heifer, and the celebrated horse Touchstone. Simmonds's Colonial Magazine and Foreign Miscellany. London : Foreign and Colonial Office, 18, Cornhill. The present number of this valuable magazine —in finitely valuable it is calculated to be to all interested in the welfare of our colonial possessions, and instructive to the British public as well, by whom those possessions are too little understood—contains several articles which will well repay an attentive perusal. To one only of these, however, by which we have been much struck, an d w hi c h, by-the-bye, was much misrepresented the other night in the House of Commons, by Mr. Milner Gibson, we here purpose directing the notice of our readers. The article in question is by Dr. Binns, a gentleman for many years a resident in Jamaica, pointing out the available resources of that and others of our West Indian Colonies. Dr. Binns expresses his regret that the views of the proprietors of West India property have been so long, almost exclusively directed to the cultivation of the sugar cane, to the entire neglect of many of the old staple pro ducts of the country, and especially the minor products, of which he enumerates a great variety which might be profitably cultivated, at a considerably less outlay of that commodity-labour, of which the West Indies are lament ably deficient, than the sugar cane. To Jamaica in par ticular, situated as that island is on what seems destined to become the highway for the commerce of Europe with the natives of the western world, with her fertile soil and singularly varied climate, such a cultivation, he maintains, would be most advantageous, enabling her to supply to the trading world, not only the whole range of tropical products, but the most highly prized vegetables, as well, of Europe itself. With such capacities, he urges, that Jamaica holds out an extensive field for the profitable employment of a portion of the surplus capital of Great Britain, and maintains that her high lands are capable of being extensively and profitably occupied by European settlers. Perhaps, Dr. Binns may with justice be held as over sanguine in some of his views ; but there is an amount of truth and some argument, supported by the evidence of past experience and statistical facts throughout his re marks, which entitle them to attentive consideration. In particular, we think his views, as to the possibility of pro fitably restoring to Jamaica the cultivation of Indigo, most important, and not less so his suggestion of restoring there the cultivation of the cotton plant, which was once ex tensively cultivated by the planters. Both these articles indeed may be said to have been driven out by the greater profit formerly arising out of the growth of the sugar cane, combined, in the case of indigo, with the very im politic imposition by the British government of an exor bitant duty of nearly £2O per cwt., which was only taken off when the laws which had been employed in its culti vation had been diverted to other pursuits. For both, he contends, there is now every encouragement ; and, when the sugar cane has almost ceased to be a profitable pro duct, and there is, in addition, hanging over the planter the probability of a reduction, at no distant period, of the present high rate of protection, the experiment ought to be at once and boldly tried. But the most important question here agitated is, in our opinion, the propriety of introducing, on an extensive scale, the cultivation of the European wheat plant, which it has been proved by a number of experiments conducted by Dr. Bancroft and under the supervision of the Jamaica Society for the Improvement of Agriculture, can be raised of very superior quality upon every description of land and variety of climate throughout the island. Thus, in the mountains of St. Ann's, a small quantity of wheat (the Victoria) was sown the latter end of January, 1835, and the corn was ripe at the latter end of April, or in three months, yielding very largely, and an improved sample. And similar, and even more favourable, results have attended a number of later experiments, which have proved that in some districts three if not four crops may be raised annually, and seem to flourish as well upon the arid plains of Vere and the humid mountains of Clarendon and St. Ann's. The importance to the island itself of the extension, or rather the adoption, of wheat culture may readily be esti mated, when we consider the vast consumption of wheaten flour and bread in the West Indies alone, and the advan tages which such cultivation would offer to proprietors and agriculturists deficient in the necessary capital re quired for sugar planting, and remember moreover that nearly the whole of the flour used in the West Indies is imported. Thus, the quantities imported into Jamaica alone were— In 1841 127,000 barrels. In 1842.... In 1843 which, taken at an average of 30s. pe r b arre l, (the lowest selling price in Kingston, in December last,) shows the large sum of £497,512, or half a million in round numbers, to have been paid in three years for flour, every barrel of which could have been profitably raised by the agricultu rists of Jamaica itself. We recommend this article, and the magazine which contains it, to the attentive consideration of our readers. It will repay perusal. Tom Burke of Ours. No. 15. W. Curry, jun., and Co., Dublin ; W. S. Orr and Co., London. The present number is in part occupied with some par ticulars of the story of Tom's friend Duchesne, upon whose peculiar character a little light is shewn, which somewhat softens its general want of amiability. We are also brought back to an old acquaintance, Capt. Bubble ton, whose amusing gasconading has procured for him the honour of a rigid confinement as a detenu in Paris, under strict surveillance. Our author keeps up fully the spirit of his past works. Martin Chuzzlewit. London : Chapman and Hall. " Pleasant little Ruth—cheerful, tidy, bustling, quiet little Ruth" is now established as the housekeeper of Tom Pinch, makes her first essay in cookery, and suc ceeds in concocting a beefsteak pudding—we beg pardon, the lady insists that it must be called a dumpling. John Westlock brings the pair the intimation of a comfortable situation for Tom, who is at length comfortably installed, and happy as Dominie Sampson himself, in the care of a set of chambers in the Temple, with an extensive library to arrange, the ownership of which is somewhat of a mys tery. We have al s o a g li m pse of Mr. Jonas Chuzz lewit, who is apparently very uncomfortably entangled by Mr. Montague Tigg and his Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Fund Society, and somewhat disposed to kick. The next number, we suspect, will produce an explosion, on the part of Jonas, and be somewhat tragical. This tale increases in interest, and the present number is full of those gems of descriptive writing, with which Mr. Dickens adorns his productions. Hood's Mayazine and Comic Miscellany. 1, Adam street, Adelphi, London. The number before us is rich in story and poetry, —some of the latter of a high order, and we only miss in it the pen of the editor, which appears to have been reduced to idleness by the owner's indisposition. It is a matter of some difficulty, where the whole is good, to express an opinion which of the contributions is best; and we shall not make the attempt in behalf of any one in particular. Amongst the prose compositions., however, we may men tion " A Tale of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields," " Babington Droneham," and " One Night in the Life of a Man of Business," which compete for the palm of superiority; and of the poems " Our Early Loved" and " The Tem plar's Summons," by Miss Frances Brown are, in their different styles, elegantly and ably written ; as is also" The Key," a Moorish romance. The gem, however, is a blank verse composition, " The Death of Pan," by Charles Mackay. Most heartily do we wish success to this pleas ing Magazine, and health to its talented conductor, Mr. Hood. Carlton's Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry . Dublin : Wm. Cnrry, jun. and Co. London : W. S Orr and Co. The present number continues the story of "The Poor Scholar," and introduces the English reader to much that is to him novel and much that is amiable in the Irish character and in Irish society, whilst at the same time it shows us some of the dark side of the picture— much of the suffering to which youths of the class de scribed submit to their search after learning. We need say nothing of the ability with which it is written ; but would suggest that at the present crisis, when the social condition of Ireland is acknowledged as one worthy of the grave consideration of the legislature of the chriatian, with a view to the adoption of every available measure for its amelioration, there is no writer from whose pages a greater amount of that description of knowledge, 'which escapes the snperficial observer and the philosophical and statistical inquirer as well, than from those of Mr. Carl ton. We may fancy that he exaggerates sometimes in his delineations ; but the truth is generally near his de scriptions, and the shadow is only thrown more deeply to enable us to see that truth more distinctly. ,At all events, if he errs at all, it is on the amiable side, to provoke our risible muscles, or our sympathies of love, and not our hatred or contempt for his unhappy fellow-countrymen. New Monthly Belle Assemblee. London :J. Rogerson Norfolk-street, Strand. The fair editress of this lively and elegant publication has furnished us this mouth with an excellent number. The embellishments are as usual full of excellence, and both the prose sketches and the poetry of a high order. The New Monthly Belle Assemblee is in fact the maga gine most adapted for its particular class of readers that we know, and at the same time it contains nothing which males as well as the fair sex may not peruse with amuse ment. The London Polytechnic Magazine. The third number is received, and judging from the number and the merits of the papers by distinguished men which crowd in upon the editor, and many of which he must necessarily hold in reserve from want of room, we should say that the work may be considered as already established, and will become highly acceptable to the scientific world. The article "On the Arts and Manu factures of the Esquimaux " is here concluded, and con tains many interesting facts relative to that simple and singular people. The " Observations on the Internal Heat of Earth "—as indicated by the existence of vol canoes, earthquakes, hot springs, igneous rocks, tempera ture of mines, &c., is very interesting and curious. There is also a well written article on " The Mines in the North of Spain." " The Carriage Ways of England," in which the comparative merits of the several kinds of pavement now in use—macadamised roads, asphalte, boulder•pitched, granite, limestone and sandstone roads, and wooden pavements—are set forth. The author gives a preference to granite paving stones, as the most durable, which (if they be well laid down) will scarcely be denied—but they are expensive. We think, however, he rather underrates the merits of macadamized roads; and still more those of wooden pavements—laying far too much stress on their slippiness in wet weather, which he assumes cannot be remedied either by a thin coating of sand, or by grooving. We can only say that we have several portions of street laid down here with grooved wooden pavement, and that we have neither witnessed nor heard of horses continually falling upon it. We may remark, however, that one por tion, over which very heavy carts continually pass daily there are indications of it not standing—tbe pavement having become (though not laid 12 months) a little uneven and here and there somewhat loose, apparently from the giving way or yielding of the bed of concrete below. Time will however decide the question. There are other interesting papers and reviews of scientific works in the number—to which we can but refer. SELECTIONS. THICKNESS OF THE CRUST OF THE EARTH. (From the London Polytechnic Magazine.) The first investigation of importance that presents itself is the thickness of the crust on which we dwell. We have seen by the theory that this ought to be continually in creasing, though with increasing slowness, and that there was a time when it was so thin as to be almost in a state of fusion. We have stated that the increase of temperature observed is about one degree Fahr. for every fifteen yards of descent. In all probability, however, the increase will yet be found to be in geometrical progression, asinvestiga tion is extended ; in which case the present crust will be found to be much thinner than we have calculated it to be ; and should this be found to be correct, the igneous theory will become a subject of more importance, in a geo logical point of view, than we are at present disposed to consider it. Taking then as correct the present observed rate of increase, the temperature would be as follows : Water will boil at the depth of 2430 yards. Lead melts at the depth of 8400 yards. There is red heat at the depth of seven miles. Gold melts at 21 miles. Cast iron at 74 miles. Soft iron at 07 miles. And at the depth of 100 miles there is a temperature equal to the greatest artificial beat yet observed ; a temperature capable of fusing platina, porcelain, and indeed every re fractory substance we are acquainted with. These tem peratures are calculated from GuytonMorveau's corrected scale of Wedgewood's pyrometer, and if we adopt them, we find that the earth is fluid at the depth of 100 miles from the surface, and that even in its present state very little more than the soil on which we. tread is fit for the ha bitation of organized beings. As the cooling of the crust is a progressive action, there must have been a time when the crust was very much thinner than it is at present, and during those early pe riods changes in its condition from contraction must have been frequent, because every new layer, as it cooled be neath, would contract and compress the fluid part below, and in the effort would be rent in many places. It appears as if several of these rents were still in existence. There seems to be a great one passing from the West Indies down the coast of South Xmerica, and across the Pacific. It has a long line of volcanoes marking its course, and those districts seated over it are the very abode of earth quake violence. Not many years ago a great shock passed over that region, and a mountain in the island of ava sunk in the fiery abyss with all its inhabitants, and left a burning lake to occupy its place. FREE TRADE IN GRAIN.—Let Polish and Russian grain be admitted without a protecting duty into the British harbours, as Lybian and Egyptian were into those of Italy, and we shall soon see the race of cultivators disappear from the fields of England as they did from those of old Rome, and the words of Tacitus will, by a mere change of proper names, become a picture of our condition ; three hundred thousand acres will soon be re duced to a state of nature in Kent and Norfolk, as they were in the Campania Felix. The free traders allege that the decay of agriculture in the central provinces of the Roman empire, to which, by the concurring testimony of all historians, the ruin of the dominion of the Caesars was chiefly owing, is to be ascribed, not to the free importation of grain from Egypt, Podolia, and Lybia, but to the tyranny of the emperors, the gratuito us distribution of grain to the Roman populace, and the dreadful evils of domestic slavery. A very slight consideration, however, must be sufficient to show that these causes, how power ful soever in producing general evils over the empire, could not have been instrumental in occasioning those peculiar and separate causes of depression, which so early tothflittihlaetgheir situation may be said to began to check, and at length totally destroyed, the agri culture of its central provinces.—Blackwood's Magazine THE RUSSIAN CLERGY.—The clergy I have already ' ranks there are found some that although among the higher . of i mentioned influence e a s o r possessed pow er in of th eeven empiren ot ; the t h e consequence slightest shadow i is, andreccle siasticalclasses dewgeradation, in ignorance, vulgarity, I may almost say, throughout of its m e attainments,m be rsre m a r remarkable b t l h e efor first learning , orderc are perfectly without parallel in any sptaretylo, the natives of which the world, not even excepting G intellect,vy expectpmai utshetpastors wr s consideration o h nmhf e 1 s s ominor miscreants in the world. there to be the most abandoned military profession is Of course, in a country wherethe looked up to or esteemed,. thehighest grades the one alone. • 1 service (with the exception of the diplomatique) of the civil . ded and despised, it is reasonable to country would s o' c r a d .r e c resl scarcely, in ti t nm h e ep c eo o ti countrywith y f even being disregarded villages u a r r c e h sideration ; the consequence is, that even the or education, superior to the serfs and peasants, alone they associate ; the rich feudal proprie preectteyiv.me eisreshoasnmt ailnl,.flanoudrissohiinngadceigrucautmesttoanthceesir, society as unworthy of notice. Indeed, the be far less enviable than the better class of slaves. Their moral character . also, is said to be debased in the highest degree; and in the various prisons it is by no means un common to see some five or six reverend culprits immured at the same period. The most prudent, as well as the best conducted, generally add to their income as well as their respectability, by engaging a small farm from the Seigneur of the property on which their duties lie.—United Service Magazine. salary oaeolrezimrteyivnteghn they ordinaryay.t he. memberslaanr gtess, March 12, 1844 DR. ADAM CLARKE.—" A thatched cabin," i n the Village of Moybe g , i n th e N o rth of Ireland, wa s tne birth, the l l° place - of Adam Clarke, and his inheritance WAS Tv la , versa! dispensation of his country—" poverty. •-• bours of the field added strength to a frame d i ? nature ion tb k a gorous ; and the most meagre system of wee any civilized country ever extended to its peoP e "pee intellectual lot. But this state of things did n ot e i c t to obstruct his destiny ; on the contrary his eseY bo lder over all difficulties throws out his character int.ee. opt relief. Adam Clarke, h av i ng a tt a i n ed the age 0 1 1 3 tn. was admitted, through the kindness of John Wee le Y;ddei place in Kingsw oo d C o ll ege , near B r i s t o l, where be wbio but little to his stock of learning; but it was her e , ball' digging in the garden, that he turned up a ge i ni e hre guinea, which he laid out in the purchase of a l o w Grammar. And it w as i n thi s trifling, accidentel,e,olo stance, much more than in his meeting with the w of pt. of Methodi sm , th a t th e acqu i rements an d fame ef ool Clarke originated ; fo r , h owever hi s l earn ed Coret on go may excite admiration, and preserve his name au,' l oo the celebrated divi n ity sc h o l ars o f t h e age , it is, to of will be for the v ar i e ty and extent of his knoutle,Mol Oriental languages an d lit era t ure th a t h e will be:l7est had in remembrance. A n d th e f oun d a tion of tb . 1;10 fabric was the Hebrew Grammar of which he beat° owner so fortuitously.—Fisher's Colonial Magaz ine. GEORGE 111. AND HIS DOMESTIC ARRANGEIitkiOf Feb. 7, 1782.—At the q u ee n ' s h ouse , w ith Mr. to see the plate, &c. The first object that struex, tn te , 0 three large maund baskets, covere d o f table Pl e o rtl co dishes tureens, butter and sauce bo a t s , all with LI 0, raised, embossed, and en grave d. Th e king's ser"delo silver gilt ; the prince's silver. We also were co o p ailf to the kitchen, where were e i g ht een ma l e cooke;00 employed in their vario us li nes; th e men i n whit" 10 and cans, and the women in white aprons and caPe•ob a late royal order, no one is to appear in the kitchen $G their hair. When the ki ng arr i ves f rom court I :, ges . James's (where he attends five days in the week, dr) days and Saturdays being the only ones he be e 80.)' week for his own private amusements, concerns , . t og dinner is called, on which a bustle ensues ; the se?, l . 6 d foe of the silver scullery take such pieces as are ea'", tO3l out of baskets, place them on a warm stove, whenc e are taken by a cook and filled, and taken to the u l n ieo room door, and delivered to the person appointed to e of them on the royal table. Common dinner, five die' meat, four of garden stuffs, and one remove, ge no more. He is exceedingly temperate, drinel' e nerally water, and rarely partakes of more that , lot two dishes. Hi s supper i s water gruel, taken io o pt peculiarly appropri a t e d t o hi s use, called the k i ng s 1 9 and is of silver gilt, shown me by th e yeocoso,,v e lo king's company at table i s th e queen, Prince 04A (unless on his public di nner d ays ) , t h e Princess j r o „"ti princesses Sophia and Elizabeth : th e rest o f the el;ecgir at another table in another apartment. The prince 9 ,4 d ner is served up by his proper officers, in the samere7 e o as the king's' The queen, unless indi s p ose d, attends court and levee days : as soon as it is over returns ' • immediately dinner is served up, without It ing for her husband—a proof of good husbandsbiP' t o is said, every king has a service of new table ptateioi old being disposed of. The silver is kept in bagfe,tri• put into presses.—Sam ue l C urwen ' s J ourna l an d ters. 5 O i l THE DOCTRINES OF THE FREE TRADERS."'" a gr O system as the free traders ad voca t e , if pract i ca ble, . W „ be to the last degree inexpedient. What would be I" 0 suit? Why, that one country would become w hat; 0 in great part, agricultural, and the other wholly , ,. ° oo great part, manufacturing. Is this a result desiree b 0 either? Admitting that a city or small state, whicl?rtio no territory which can furnish any considerable pruPe dl of the subsistance which it requires, like Holland, ot e l o gi well to attend exclusi v ely to manu f ac t ures an d c anto: 6 w or a country which, by the r i gour o f na t ure , or t i !,l moteness of its situation, cannot attain to co mwere manufacturing greatness, would d o we ll t o atten d; elusively to the cultivation or productions of tbe the question which here occurs—ls such a system 8 , tb. able or expedient for a nation which has received fre l V bounty of nature the means of rising to greatness in flee —such as Great Britain, Russia, or Prussia? The is traders would have England sacrifi ce it s agr i cu lture ', l „ 1 0 manufactures, and Russia sacrifice its ma n uf a ctures 4 0 0 agriculture. Would such a system benefit either ? r o lls England be happier or richer, more stable or more m ete if the already colossal amount of its mannfactureS boo trebled ; or Ru ss i a , if it s r i s i ng i ron an d woo ll e n fe l , 0 were destroyed, and it s i n d us t r y con fi ne d exclusice,lll the slow retu rn o f agr i cu lt ura l l a b our ? I s i t des 1 ;01 that the zone of tall chimneys, sickly faces, brick t ei tlie and crowded jails, which at present span a cross . , b 0 whole of Engiand and p ar t o f S cot l and, should of doubled and trebled i n b rea dth ; an d the fertile fieeA-ntr Kent, Norfolk, and East Lothian, be reduced to ra st io tte enclosed pastures, such as overspread Italy in ti ) ,e, o oe stages of the Roma n em pi re ? O r i s i t d es i ra bl e t o the and Prussia that they should be for ever chained TAN , labour of boors, serfs, and shepherds, and all the °1 1 ; be ing and u n i m p or t an t e ff ec t s o f commerc i a l weal; di denied to their own exertions ? Nature has deg. 64 experience recommends, a very differe n t s ystem. P l t, tells us in all parts of the wo r ld, th a t it i s i n the l oc i' mixture of commerce and agriculture that the bee t „,roef rity is to be found for soci a l h a ppi ness an d advanee,'",,o and the most effectual an tid o t e p rov id e d t o the evi' e which either, when existing alone, is so prone' 0' M'Culloch has told us, that the commerce and ro an ions tures of Great Britain have now risen to such a Pr, e ;re ble' height, that any further extension of them is unoe e , he' and that no real patriot would have desired there ite ble , come so extensive as they already are. Is it di, e , s ame in such a state of matters, to go on increasing pen° splendid but perilous system, and to do so at tu e- A s oa" of the great pillar of national wealth, security ans',l l pendence—the land of the state ?—Blackwood" zine. EXILE TO SIB ERIA . —B y ukase of the Empress Eni beth, the puni s h men t of death is nominally aboln0;14 throughout the empire, except in cases of treasnn ol d murder. I have said nominally, as, though the fau„ t the cord may no longer exercise their functions eleerioi, these tweoxpcie botharses, it iusnbdyer th e ome knout, and,eansuncomar I h fnar:Ae; n viously shown, in the military punishment of runni l l'oil gauntlet ; the ge nera l awar d, th ere f ore , b o th for P, ° igh', offences and those o f a genera l na t ure, cons i s t s in Ua • 1 a 0 merit to Siberia—a sen t ence , t h e proport i onate se°T ilt which depends upon th e nature of the crime of vin,r,d prisoner stands convi c t e d. A s regards those the former, their d es ti ny can b y no means be ter' 0 - 0 hard one, co m p are d w i t h the fate inflicted for s"" „, transgressions in the other governments of EuroP i e o W after a short pe r i o d o f sever i ty, the i r situation is graut4o,; ameliorated, and they be c o meco l on i s t s more than eeP;001 and how f ar c i v ili zat i on has b y these means found ',;'0011 into these dreary wastes may be gathered from thee" es' stance of Tobolsk, the capital, being possessed of its d e p salons, hotels, and all the accompaniments of a grea t i ol; The chief h ar d s hi p of t h e sentence cons i sts i n the Pti,l'e when all, w i t h out re f erence to ran k or station, or t ture or magnitude of their offen c e, are c h a i ne d tog e , e tb e and compelled to march on foot; while, t o comPle`ci 0 0 „; picture of this arrangement, (so singularly se v ere e l ' or just,) though, at the same time, exhibiting it as the 0 , 1 0 adoption of convenience, it is by no means uncora lD t io t , ot witness long files of re cru i ts un d er s i m il ar pr ecel_ c o' marching to join their regiments. The fate of thogteti)f victed of murder (whose punishment has been corny ) . le pee t ; arson, burglary, or robbery accompanied with 11 . ° 00 is, perhaps, the most wretched the human imagine 0 0 1 , conceive, and while expressive of the wisdom a0".. 6 0 policy of the Imperial Government regarding the aw" 0,01 renders the sentence to the convict a hundred tin 3 e S ,.itse, terrible and e ffi cient than if the capital punishmea' o e had been inflicted, since he must turn to death 81 000 his best, indeed, only relief, to the life of misery, w b l e cfr i intermission, he endures. From the moment of t v ett minals reaching their destination, the light of hes ~io' for ever excluded from their siew, and it is expres s timated to them that all further intercourse betwee l ;., o o e : kind and themselves is cut off for ever ; their very tb e ,i even are no longer heard, and by given numbers ar e too, summoned by their keepers and jailors to their de i " o r alternately amid the fetid and unwholesome vapou rs o: mine, and the pestilential heats of the laboratory• a similar doom b e awar d e d i n E ngland, capital pun is- eV in all cases might th en , i n d ee d , w i t h safety be abolis"- United Service Magazine. A ,t' PERFECTNESS OF THE G OSPEL .—Wh oev er si• d joy A , the doctrines of the gospe l, as taug h t b y St. Pse''otbe:, not only pervert th e t rue , b u t i n e ff ect preac h e s 80 1ir gospel, and falls, therefore, under the condeloso- 11 6 which St. Paul passed on the intrusive teachers w i l' a lea tit , opposed, and, like them, must not, w hatever bis , ;ef eu; or learning, or character for piety or morality, be ber'o'oo,o Any attempt to make any one form of church go r e th or ; essential to Christ's presence with its met:ab e t ; an o r ' raise confession to and absolution by a priest in tir tiat 3 b dained preliminary to G o d' s f org i ven es. of through the sacrifice of Christ, or any other tenet or t cannot be fairly d emons t ra ted to be a necessary th e that gospel which St. Paul taught, is to be treated % e ve , vain invention of men, and to be rejected, by wbows't to it may be brought forth. And where can we exp er t find the essent i a l g ospel which Paul preached, if n o the the epistles he sent to instruct and build up in„ s e ntr i principles of the Christian faith, those whom, hs cl ,.`",lo made the disciples of the gospel, for their correction or reproof when they had fah e r a tid s .: error, or were in danger of a fall ? There is n° de r ' mental, no necessary, no important, no profitEl e `,7, trine, that we can conceive his anxiety to Pr eser n . °i t; truth, not only untainted b une - • y heresy, but also 03,0 tiered by human additions, would have allow ,P 6 he afterwards sv,',", itr• leave unrecorded in his epistles. They embt'Z'ectif e . - conceptions of what he deemed requisite for the of the churches in those ages. Feeling, and I: o ,, e lis A w daring him se lf to be insired, he coda not bu t that his writi ngs would be preserved and referred f ee' the standard of the gospel communicated to hirni c iefe l f; lation from the Lord ; and to suppose them t0 . ...,"'" of , t be tive in any leading point, is to doubt the wisd°l L il t Spirit by which he spake. In the inspired volui l de frof New Testament, therefore, we are bound to cone's, fa o i, the gospel of Jesus is, in all its essential feat 6r hos e contained, and that the Holy Spirit, under w.'" r oisrl dance it was composed, has allowed none of its l ore ° of sable doctrines to be dragged into light from ob s t icad, doubtful expressions, but has left w h a t man 01 40111 and do so plainly stated, that it may easily be asc'tbect9eo Whatever, therefore, is attempted to be added t° 00( 1 and open declarations of that sacred volume , " Ch t liot out as absolutely necessary to the constitution 0 ` A p t tian church, or the salvation of a Christian °l n d old may we at once reject, as no part of the r s h r„t V i et, Paul taught as of necessity to be received. " ""reliPbef his brethren preached as essential to Christ's so d t he f wants nothing either to correct or complete it. _i e s who bring in any new essentials by the coroliaLreorrd ) draw from doubtful passages, are guilty of the . 1 .-0 14 tion of trying to be wise above what is revealed. of England Magazine. - 1 ._...