The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1845-12-09 00:00:00

Etttraturr. NOTICES. Sharpe's London Magazine. Smythe, Liverpool. We have received the second part of this periodical, ich, considering its remarkable cheapness, is eminently factory. The magazine is, in its general plan, similar , eral weekly and monthly publications ; but it differs t, viz., that it is illus zecuted woodcuts. The as well as selected, well- traced with a number of w compri: I articl a number of miscel- laneou Blackwood, for December, taining and instructive. The of White's Three Years in _ ?ortant paper, containing the Scotland, with a number of vs _ Constan larvest t deductions affecting ly with the general the grain pr prospects of ments in tht " The Boc ottntry The authority for the state s Mr. Stephens, the author of ' an authority not to be kn. e is quite satisfied_ that, in pugned grain convertible into his harvest than from the a heavy crop ; indeed, t crop he ever remembers to that country have s is strong . _ ,eed and !rence to the quality of the re of it, but most of it, is - The barley and but there is a slight crop, he s inferior in roughness aboutth€ ights, in some cases, re a heavy crop in of both are extr straw e , Stephen while in traw, when well won, Mr. horses in winter as hay ; h as on the border s enters into a 'number of will also be as to t Di price of the orain in vari is follows, " With all these e myself believe that we are ous dist facts bel )f faiiline, as far as the grain subject of the potatoe crop, e is little outcry against rot crop is Mr_ St in Pent extens Londo arshire, and these are the two most a which potatoes are shipped for bland diFtriets is most fa ays that in, all true potato my be a good but a great crop. Fhe crop vonrabl and Mr. Stephens soils the potatoes will not Hogg's Weekly Instructor Part IX G. Philip, Liverpool. The plan of the pub- 's as excel ~, so far as the typo ,,cveral other features, of the after the manner of Chambers' -glu , o , le recommendation in addi d to advance the interests e chief intention of the 0 cult d, hadeed,4 eulcate an increasing regard for re .:e remaining matter is highly there is no lack of lighter reading. There are fic, statistical, and miscellaneous papers of a Whilst 0 s Monthly Series Falcon Family." No. XII. "The one of the most interesting ,ately issued from the press. are ably painted. In parti n. " the Giosey," is inimitable ; VARIE'II by a persul o mad Is more than t pie, - a cal fact! latter a 3k of the F Mr. Stephe reater q ieen derived from Both oats and barley ar a the I not the e work are concerned Journal, but tion, that its articles stianity. vealed instructive, also acienti first class character. Chapman and Hall , hick ha The characters, throng cular, that of Mrs. Fal .....wissive spouse, the Red Rover. is equally good in its way. Some of the heroes of the Young England And Young Ireland party are, perhaps, rather too extra and obviously caricatures. Ridicule, however, •-• mach absurd follies as those m wan wow_ both can be treated effectually ; and th td, at the same time, good to meet the author again in w extracts from the ash is certainly very freely pplied present number a We trus ingst or W. S. Orr and Co., Lon don ; Curry and Co., Dublin. This now favourite magazine maintains its high standi , g amongst its contemporary periodicals, and has even in ?utation and usefulness during the past year. organ of Protestantism, and advocate of the true interests of Ireland, it is excelled by none. The pre ,,,,,,,her contains many excellent articles; and espe- selections Dublin Ui 'versify Magazine cially a f of the poetical remains of the late jrav, better known to some of our maiden name of M. A. Browne. We ex tipnt ',marks from an article on Protestant Fraser's Magazine London : G. \V The pr ,nd livel3 ttack uF tains some very able gan Ratt ler's caustic and their doings is pre e on the defensible state of Nickisson, Regent- hich Mor WHAT a a future fired fr inding Eons, upon which w ten upon paper_manufac: 1 - seen a book with bOth leaves and NECESSITY OF 'calm with whatever p be but small—in compar Mining Journal, PROTESTANT UNION ness, the lea of Prot Much rather would we d at oilier tir .—While we ad we have, and we confess it ,on of our wishes but weak nt. union, we are reconciled to it it is indispensably necessary. `he people of this country, one, of their creeds only when cts or offices of worship, only remembering that ' , atity, that all were to another" the should be all should be one in t be disciples of Hii distinguishing ch recognise community in inciples which all Christian professors hold, than at in the matters in which they differ. But are not left free to follow these dictates of our heart, -nake our country a wilder "love to is by which they known—much t estrangeme " would ness," will not permit us to do so—and the minister who said in the measure of 1829 " let religious distinctions be effaced" and who has said in the measure and professions of 1845—" let religious distinctions be restored," com mands the Protestants to remember that the state pro nounces them a distinct and separate portion of the people —a portion distinguished in order to its being degraded. Is this more than the truth ? Was it not the avowed principle of "Emancipation" that religious distinctions should be obliterated in order that the profession of the creed of Home should not disqualify for official station — and is it not the policy of the present administration in making the profession of that creed a ground of pre the revival of religious distinctionkin suet► a form `, as to render them an injury and an insult to e Protestants of I:eland ? How is it possible, under such circumstances, to forget that Nye are a distinct portion of the Irish people—how is it possible, if we feel as men, and would act as wise men, to refrain longer from " taking close order," and organizing ourselves into a compact brotherhood? Nor is it in the distribution of patronage only, or in the approprirt on of the public funds, Protestants are taught to feel that they are the dis favoured party ; the same stern truth is proclaimed to them by due form of_ law. What constituted Orange ference, and spir n offence dur at period of eight or nine ? The letter of a penal years which has recent] )ption of signs and An offence? The same of a severe act of parliament. wrong, any thing really pre- s by the Orange b e any th►ng morall jucumai LU Loo wv.l u, ..g of individuals or the state in these prohibited customs? Assuredly Sir Robert Peel will hardly say that there is. He who defended Orangeism and Oraneemen in the year 1814, in the language made of by tb ight honou account the Orange moral. Why then s its 'bse ,uld he hold them illeg 1? Perhaps EFFECT OF OPENING THE PORTS (From Blackwood's Magazine.) To open the ports at the present moment would , we think be attended with mischief in more ways than one. There can be no pretext of a famine at present, im mediately after harvest ; and the natural course of events in operation is this, that the dear prices are inducing a stream of corn from every producing quarter towards Britain. In such circumstances, if ycu raise a cry of famine, and suspend the corn-laws, that stream of supply will at once be stopped. The importers will naturally suspend their trade, because they will then speculate, not on the rate of the import duty, which will be absolutely abolished by the suspension, but on the rise of price in the market of this country. They will therefere, as a matter of course—gain being their only object—with hold their supplies, until the prices shall have, through panic, attained a famine price here; and then they will realize their profit when they conceive they can gain no more. In the course of things at present, the price of fine whedt is so high, that a handsorce surplus would re main to foreigners, though they paid the import duty. Remove that duty, and the foreigner will immediately add its amount to the price of his own wheat. The price of wheat would then be as high to the consumer as when the duty remained to be paid ; while the amount of duty would go into - the pockets of the foreigner, instead of into our own exchequer. At present, the finest foreign wheat is 62s in bond—remove the present duty of 14s, and that wheat will freely give in the market 80s the qr. It is, therefore, clear that such an expedient as that of suspending the corn-laws merely to induce the bonded wheat to be entered for home consumption, would, in no degree, benefit the consumer. The quantity of wheat at present in bond does not exceed half a million of quarters —the greatest part of which did not cost the importer 30s per quarter. At least we can vouch for this, that early last summer, when the crop looked luxuriant. 5000 quarters of wheat in bond were actually offered in the Edinburgh market for 265, and were sold for that sum, and allowed to remain in bond. It still remains in bond, and could now realise 625. Here, then, is a realisable profit of 36s per quarter, and yet the holder will not take it, in the expectation of a higher. We cannot think that Sir Robert Peel would sanction a measure so clearly and palpably unwise, for the sake of liberating only half a million quarters of wheat, which is the calculated consumption of a fortnight. But the late frequent meetings of the Privy Council have afforded an admirable opportunity for the alarmists to declaim upon coming famine. Matters, they say. must belooking serious indeed, when both Cabinet and Connell are repeatedly called together ; and they jump at the conclusion, that suspension of the corn-law is the active subject of debate. We pretend to no special knowledge of what is passing behind the political curtain : but a far more rational con jecture as to the nature of those deliberations may be found in the state of the potato crop, and the question, whether any succedaneum can be Lund for it. Perhaps it would be advisable to allow Indian corn, or maize, to come in duty free; if not as food for people, it would feed horses, pigs, or poultry, and would make a diversion in favour of the consumption of corn to a certain extent ; and such a relaxation could be wade without interfering with the corn-laws, for maize is not regarded as corn, but stands in the same position as rice and millet. We might try this experiment' with the maize, as the Dutch have forestalled the rice market. If the state of the harvest is such as we conscientiously believe it to be, there can be no special reason—but ra ther, as we have shown, the reverse—for suspending the action of the corn-laws at this particular juncture. If the enactment of that measure was founded on the prin ciple of affording protection to the farmer, why interfere with these laws at a time when any apprehension of a famine is entirely visionary? And since there is a large quantity of food in the country, the present prices are certainly not attributable to a deficiency in the crop, and are, after all, little more than remunerative to the farmers who are raisers of corn alone. The present rents could not possibly be paid from the profits of the growth of corn. It is the high price of live stock which keeps up the value of land. The aggregate average trice of wheat throughout the kingdom is only 583 6d.. upon which no rational argument can be founded for the suspension of the laws of the country. Besides, the working of the corn-laws will in its natural course effect all that is o,psirable; at any rate it does not prevent the introduction of foreign grain into the market. The present state of the grain market presents an apparent anomaly—that is, it affords a high and a low price for the same commodity, namely wheat ; but this difference is no more than might have been anticipated from the peculiar condition of the wheat crop, which yields good and infe rior samples at the same time. It can be no matter of surprise that fine wheat should realise good prices, or that inferior wheat should only d raw low prices. The high price will remunerate those who ualithave the good fort low une to reap a crop of wheat of good qy, and the prices of the inferior wheat will have the effect of keeping the aggregate average price at a medium figure, and, by maintaining a high duty, will prevent the influx of inferior grain to compete with our own inrerior grain in the home market. The law thus really affords protection to those who are in need of it —namely, to such farmers as have reaped an inferior crop of wheat; while those foreigners who have fine wheat in bond, or a surplus which they may send to this country, can afford to pay a high duty on receiving a high price for their superior article. Ta king such a state of things into consideration, we cannot conceive a measure more wise in its operation, inasmuch as it accommodates itself to the peculiar circumstances of the times, than the present form of the corn-laws. Were that law allowed to operate as the legislature in tended, it would bring graininto the country whenever a supply was actually necessary ; but we cannot shut our eyes to the mischievous effects which unfounded rumours of its suspension have already produced in the foreign market. Owing to these reports, propagated by the newspapers, the holders of wheat abroad have raised the price to 565. a quarter, free on board ; and as the same rumours have advanced the freight to 6s. a quarter, wheat cannot now be landed here under 665. The suspension of the corn-law would tend to confirm the panic abroad, and would therefore increase the difficulties of our corn-mer chants, in making purchases of wheat for this market. It seems to us very strange that sensible men of business should be so credulous as to believe every idle rumour that is bro relied in the newspapers, so evidently for party purposes; for the current report of the immediate sus pension of the corn-law originated in the papers avowedly inimical to the ministry. The character of the League is well known. Thlt body has never permitted truth to be an obstacle in the way of its attempts. THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE RELATIVELY WITH EUROPEAN INTERESTS. (From While's Three Years in Constantinople.) The population of the Turkish Empire consists of several distinct races, utterly opposed to each other in re ligion, habits, descent, objects, and in every moral and even physical characteristic. The Turkomans, Kurds, Arabs, Egyptians, Druses, Maronites, Albanians, Bos nians, Bulgarians, Greeks, Jews, and Armenians, are so many distinct nations, inhabiting the same or contiguous soils, without having intermixed in the slightest degree from their earliest conquest, and without having a single object in common. Over these dissentient populations stands the pure Ottoman race, the paramount nation, charged with maintaining the equilibrium between all. and with neutralizing the ascendancy of one faction by the aid of others. Were this control not to exist — were the Turks, who represent their ancestors, the con querors of the land, to be reduced to a level with those now beneath them, or were the preponderating influence of the former to be destroyed by the elevation and equili zation of the latter, perpetual revolts and civil wars could not fail to ensue. .The dependent populations. now con stituting so large a portion of the empire. would confirm the struggle until one of them obtained the supremacy a' present exercised by the Turkish race, or until the tern tory were divided among themselves, or parcelled out b' foreign powers. In this last hypothesis will be found th -hole secret of the ardent sympathy evinced by WA. a foreigners, especially by the press of France, for the sub aied races OILII I y • a 0.5.“.. - tranquillizing the tributaries of the Porte, and attaching them to the government, is by raising them in the social scale, and by granting to all the same rights and immuni ties as are enjoyed by their rulers. But it has been repeatedly proved, that concession; do but lead to fresh demands. and that partial enfranchisement conducts to total emancipation. " And why should they not?" is of the Bosphorus auu Llctl fraction of power, than the Porte, would be a source of interminable discord to Europe, and irreparable detri• went to England. It would not only affect our commerce, and undermine our political influence throughout the East, but would add enormously to our nwal expenditure, by requiring an augmentation of our maritime force equi valent to that now remaining neuter in Ihe Golden Horn. P-oaties, it is said, might be concluded, exacting mail of time restrictions. But: what are treaties in the fat,. events? Whoever possesses the Bosphorus, Propontis, and Archipelago, must he a maritime nation in spite of treaties. Whoever possesses Constantinople must be come a great manufacturing and exporting nation, in de fiance of competition. In less than halt a century, the romantic villas and tapering cypresses that now fringe the blue Bosphorus, would be replaced by factories and steam chimneys—every one of which would be a deadly rival to a similar establishment in Great Britain. I argue as an Englishman, whose duty it is to consider the material interests of his country, now and hereafter, and not to occupy himself with the theories of political philanthro pists. According to the levelling system, recommended as the __sis of reforms, all classes would eventually be assimi lated—the desert Arabs to the laborious Maronites, the intractable Arnoots to the industrious Bulgarians, the thrifty Armenians to the restless and ambitious Greeks, and the humble and parsimonious Jews to the haughty and 1 ivish Osmanlis. Thus, contiguous populations, which now keep ea ch other in check, because their inter ests are divergent and their jealousies inveterate, would find their interests assimilated ; and in the event of op position to government, the Porte, in lieu of being able to overcome one . sect through the rivalry of another, would find them all united against the dominant power. The Ottoman government should therefore avoid estab lishing any community of rights or interests among the races subjected to its rule. Each of these races ought to be governed according to itsi owl! usages and individual creed ; there should be uniformity n the principles of a d m i n i stra tion, but diversiCy_ in the application. The O t t om an tenure cannot be maintained but by decided and perem pto r y superiority. Adhesion . on the part of the subjugated is impossible; connexion is all that can be ex pected ; and to preserve th is connexion, the supremacy of conquest must not be relaxed. The Porte cannot ex pect attachment ; it mustconsequen!ly enforce submission. When this absoloteism ceases to exist,.t it he . pc.wer will pass into other hands; and where is the polician that can cal- r existing circumstances, hurtful to the interests of ountry. Is this a sufficient defence and justification Ffence, for creating a new ime, and for punishing, rm_ honest and peacef imprisonment or transporta contrivances for personal ornmemoration of a greA opinion of the minister, if aroteetton, or the pub erance policy w Ind visits it with little less than Let It be so—let it be admitted use Roman Catholics felt or affected auger at sui;,.."mmemoration. it was right to oronouuce reason - ask only this—ii partial, which cm just, is tl Protestw their upright and . con-, taking i to account tl t say favours federacy whic would mace Great B' lobert P, our statute b , Were mans. soverel well-kr •,. ;hole circumstances of the case, d encourages, that baneful con arded language of the premier, fourth-rate power, and On what sustainable plea ) pronounce Orangeism Icing the object of the Is legislation incom ts of such a body easons c or the countr. ,wollSractis! aary to give r of Bla )aly a single chi mc day's proceedings a not need further info variou stances y supported in parliament ald be effectually put down ? houses, and the records of s to both these questions. led subsequently to the more pernicious to the I designs and ? It is r pernse st one, and a report of ever ciliation Hall, and we wi! atm that British ized as treason offenc has in is of the country than the r " Jura inventa Inetu injusti fateare n( less pre- Iroject of Tempora si fastosque velis evoluere mama." But if you desire to learn the wisdom of legislature from the course which has been recently pucsued towards Ireland, you will be disposed to affirm that the principl which " dat veniam corvis vexat censura columbas is that of which the policv of Sir Robert Peel is the apt and alarming exponent. There is an old proverb not the less applicable to the affairs of life that it bears'th name of one whose wisdom was given him from above e —" He that justifieth the wicked, and he that condemneth the just, even they both are abomination to the Lord." We commend this truth to the serious attention of the Cabinet which condemns the righteous exertions of loyal Irish Protestants, and justifieth," by vfraining to legislate against it, the Repeal confederacy and its perni cious system of agitation.—Dublin University Magazine. I cannot 11E LIVERPOOL STANDARD. culate the results of the transfer? One issue may be safely predicted—England must lose; but cannot gain by the change. With the increasing embarrasments to-com merce and industry, which continental states are raising against Britain, it is essential that we should not allow a false cry of philanthropy to throw us off our guard in the Levant. France in Africa, and Russia on the Danube, are intent on the same object. Their battle-cries are civilization and religion ; their pretext the improvement of the Christian populations. But who is there that has studied the recent policy of the one, and the undeviating system of the other, since the days of Catherine, that can question for a moment the purport of both ? And yet England and Austria have acted recently as if France were sincere, and Russia disinterested. YOUNG ENGLAND ATTEMPTING MONKEaY. (From the Falcon Family, in Chapman and Hall's Monthly Series.) " Now, not a word, my dear Crozier; make no apo logy." said Moore, to the unfortunate St. John, who met his guests in great tribulation at the failure of the project on which he had set his heart. " Tell us candidly, Crozier, has Ward been with you ?" asked Lord Lodore, rho had just arrived. " No, upon my honour," said Crozier, with energy and solemnity. "Or Manes ?" asked De Goslyn. " Deal frankly with us." " Milnes!" " Yes, your monastery is so very oriental, that I can not hap asking the question—Has Manes made you a convert to his Hareem system ?"* No, by the rood !" protested Crozier. " Crozier, my dear fellow," said Moore, " your fai lure, as far as you have failed, only proves the truth of. what Maitland has strenuously urged. It is easy to say, I will be a monk of the fourth century, or a monk of the twelfth :' but when we come to try the experiment, it ends in our being monks of the nineteenth century, to which era of the world I consider the monastery oc St. Ronalds to belong ; and I, therefore, propose that we put cur heads together, and organise it on hodierno-mediteval principles." " But in no century," said Lord Lodore, " do I see how monastic rule is to be reconciled with the presence of so great a' number of the fair sex, and very fair too, as Crozier has assembled upon the present occasion." " That is my difficulty, too," said Skiddaw. " In fact," said De Goslyn, " if Crozier had meditated a heavy blow and a great discouragement to celibacy, he could not have taken his measures with more address." " I believe there are precedents in conventual history," said Moore, deliberately, " for the re-union of the sexes under the same monastic roof ; at all events, there is the memorable example of the Abbey of Theleme, which we cannot do better than adopt provisionally for our model." " I don't remember to have heard of that abbey," said Lord Lodore; " under what rule was it, and by whom founded ?" " It was founded by Gargantua the Great, and the rule had only one clause- 4 Do WHAT THOU WILT.' Now, can we adopt a more agreeable or a more commodious one, under existing circumstances ? I, therefore, move that this be constituted a Gargantuan abbey, and that the blooming Mrs. Falcon be appointed Abbess of Theleme." Looks were interchanged, and murmurs uttered ; but in cases of this kind the man of mercurial temperament and voluble discourse, when he is good-natured and po pular, commonly carries his propositon ; and it was generally but tacitly agreed (Skiddaw being the chief ob jector), that the principle of the Thelenaite monastery should he acted upon provisionally, as least so far as meeting the women in the refectory, and relaxing con ventual strictness in a few other minor matters, out of compliment to them. In the drawing-room they found the ladies assembled, and also two more arrivals from Oxford, Mr. Monk and Mr,. St. Crispin, looking as much amazed and discon certed as if they had been suddenly dropped into a coterie of mermaids in some sub-marine bower. _ The hour now suggested carnivorous ideas, and Moore discoursed of the refectories of convents, with great unc tion, and more learning than it was supposed he possessed on monastic affairs. • " Would you take a crust of our, penis monachalis, or a few parched peas and a cup of water ?" said Crozier, perceiving in what channel Dominick's thoughts were running. Moore alluded to the time of the day, which was verg ing towards six o'clock, and declined to forestal the hour of refection. " You forget," said Crozier, " that this is the eve of St. Munchin." " No such saint recognised in the Abbey of Theleme," replied Moore; " do you fast on St. Munchin's eve, Mrs. Falcon ?" The gipsy had never done honour to St. Munchin, or any other saint in the calendar. " Moore, be rational!—this..is a fast, and a very strict one." " Come, Lord Abbot, be serious, and order dinner." " I am perfectly serious. I am not an A bbot of Misrule." " But minor matters, you know-" " Do you call feasting a minor matter ?" " No, but fasting is. Several of the monks were with Moore in their hearts, although they venerated St. Munchin nearly as much as if he had been an evangelist, or one of the apostles. " Come, Crozier, order dinner," said Moore again, uncertain whether his Puseyitical friends were in jest or earnest. " Moore's idea of the monastic system is a little too secular," said St. Crispin, who was not severe in his lan guage. as he was very hungry. " Were I to paint the Genius of the monastic system," said Moore. " I would represent it fair and festive, comely and convivial, social and free, bountifully giving, aye, and bou❑tifully taking, and enjoying, too :—let it be mediceyal, if you like; nay, I have no objection to a touch of the dark ages, just enough to give it a gipsy bloom: in fact, I would petition our Mother Abbess to sit for the picture. Ah !—what do I see ?" he continued in the same strain of pleasant personality (the gaiety of his manner redeeming what was objectionable in it), `' have I forgotten my Greek, or do I not recognise in that embroidered scarf she wears, one of the most an cient and imposing of our ecclesiastical vestments? I think, Crozier, you call it the stole." The name was certainly appropriate; and Miss Crozier was happy to recover in so pleasant a way, her brother's oraritme, which was identified beyond all doubt by the word Agios in her own needle-work upon the border. The incident caused some amusement, and Mrs. Falcon enjoyed the conviction of her sacrilegious theft as hear tily as any of the company. " I was always called the Magpie," she said. " when I was a girl." Just at this momenta bell was heard, and Mr. St. John Crozier started, looked at Monk, and then at his sister "Wily ti ,'s the refectory bell!" all three ex, claimed together. " I knew the fast was a jest," cried Moore. It must be a mistake of.the refeetionarius,." said Crozier, against the prospect of a dinner. " Or the caquinarius," said Monk. " A mistake for which I am not sorry," said De Gos lyn aside to Lodore. " My eoquinarius is generally accurate," said Crozier. " Can the mistake have been ours?" said Skiddaw, lookine at his pocket calendar, or compotes, as he called it. " I protest," he exclaimed, " your coquinarius is right,—this is St. Munchin's Day. " * The work of Mr. Monkton Milnes, entitled, " Palm Leaves," contains the germ of a project for orientalising the relations of the sexes. It is gratifying to think that the zeal of our " 1i ely young men" for Eastern trssel is one according to knowledge; and that one of their objects is to exalt WOMAN from the deeraded position she holds in England, to the state of dignity and ihzportance she enjoys in Turkey fp- WHY Is BREAD SO DEAR ?—The price of bread is very high already, and is not likely to fall; and the rea son a baker would assign for this is the high price of wheat—a very plausible reason, and to which most peo ple would too good-humouredly assent ; but examine the earticnlars of the case, and the reason adduced will be found based on a fallacy. During all the last year, the aggregate average price of wheat never expeeded 56s a qr. and in that time the price of the 4d loat was 54d ; at least I paid no more for it with ready money. The highest mark that wheat has yet attained in this market, is 88s per quarter, and it is notorious that this market has, for the present year, been the dearest throughout the king dom. As lOs a. quarter makes a difference of ld in the 4th loaf, the loaf, according to this scale—which, be it re marked, is of the bakers' own selectionshould be at 84(1 when the wheat is at 88s. Can you. nevertheless, believe that, whilst the present price qf bread is 84 the loaf is made wholly of wheat which cost the baker 88s the quarter ? The bakers tell you they always buy the best wheat, and yet, though they ate the largest buyers in the wheat market, the aggregate average of the kingdom did not exceed 58s sa on the Bth November. The truth is. the bakers are trying to make the most they can ; and they are not to blame, provided their gains were not im puted to the farmers. But we all know, that when bread gets inordinately high in price, clamour is raised against dear wheat—that is, against the farmer--and this again is made the pretext for a free trade in corn; whilst the high price secured to.the baker by the pfivilege of his trade is left unblamed and unscathed.—Blackwood's Magazine. REWARDS OF AUTHORSHIP. —Among the female no velists and story writers, we believe the most popular, and of ccurse the best paid, are Mrs. Howitt, Mrs. Gore, Lady Morgan, Mrs. Trollope, Mrs. Crowe, and Mrs. Johnstone. The last named lady is in receipt of a very handsome income by her contributions to the periodlcal literature of the day. ',Mrs. Howitt was very handsomely remunerated for her translations of the Swedish novels . ; and for her stories in the periodicals she is remarkably well-paid ; for one alone, forming a few sheets in one of the periodicals of the day, she was paid upwards of seventy rounds; for the series of little works published by Mr. Tegg, she is said to receive sixty guineas each. Mrs. Gore is a very voluminous writer, and contributes largely to most of the periodicals of the diy. She occasionally writes plays also ; and for one, the " Quid pro Quo," she was paid five hundred pounds. Lady Morgan, for one work, " France in 1839," received two thousand guineas. So much for the female novelists ; a word in conclusion about those of the other sex. If our information be cor rect, James (G.P.lt.) has long been making upwards of a thousand per annum by his novel manufactory.Bulwer makes a much larger sum ; his " Rienzi," which we are told was written in two months, procured him sixteen hundred pounds. " Peter Simple" produced the sum of two thousand pounds to Captain Maryatt. Last of all we may mention Charles Dickens, who, it is said, has accu mulated a fortune of fall fifty thousands pou nds by his ad. mirable fictions. Considerable incomes, too, are derived from writing for the reviews and magazines, and for the newspaper press. By some of the leading reviews one hundred and one hundred and fifty guineas are frequently paid for a single article, while the sums paid by the best 11 m agazines vary from eight to fourteen gumeas.—Floggs Weekly Instructor. A DAPS EXCURSION IN NEWFOUNDLAND (From Fraser's Magazine.) It would net be easy to give a correct idea of a New foundland fishing village. Village ! the word calls up visions of quiet hamlets embosomed in trees. We see cottages, each with a little garden, from which floats up ward a scent of wallflowers and stocks. The women are working at their open doors ; the children are rolling on the green, or sailing their boats in the willow-shaded pond or swinging in the old elm near,the church. The church itself is half hidden by two or three dark yew trees, that throw deep shadows over the daisied graves about them ; and there is a winding walk that leads to the very gate of the pretty parsonage. The old manor-house is near, with its noisy rookery and its rich woods, from whose shades flows forth all day a stream of merry song; and far away are yet statelier mansions and broader parks. Far other is the scene presented by a so-called village on the coast of Newfoundland. A few low wooden huts perched here and there among the rocks, with a rude path of communication between them ; a small, plain church, also of wood ; and a building, generally of more preten sion, surmounted by a small cross, the Roman Catholic chapel ;—such are its component parts. No flowers ; no gardens, save here and there a patch of potatoes ; no par sonage,for a clergyman comes from a distance to perform divine service on a Sunday. Tier above tier along the coast, supported by fir-poles fixed in the rock, are the stages on which the salted fish is spread to dry. The scent rising from these is an anti dote to all romance. The " breath of the sweet south," blowing fresh from the waters, passes over the " cod flakes," and becomes tainted with the sickening odour. Even at a considerable distance from the shore the same annoyance is felt, poisoning the pure air of heaven. There are other horrors of a similar description connected with the fisheries, but I pass them by with a shudder. The bare-footed children, lying among the stones, raise their unwashed faces to watch the stranger with looks of stupid wonder. The women, if it be summer, sit basking in the sun ; few, alas! great as the need may be, with nee dle in hand. Their talk is of seals and cod-fish, of hauling and jig ging; and their jargon generally betrays an Irish origin. All this is little cheerful, but there is a sadness induced by the silence of Nature in the scenery of Newfoundland, that none that have not felt it can understand. You may pause again and again as you wander among the stunted woods, and strain your ear to bear the voice of a bird, the hum of an insect, in vain. All is lonely and desolate, yourself the only living, breathing creature as far as the sight can reach. The continuous murmur of life and joy that fills the summer air of our own country is unknown there. The wind cannot " shake music front the boughs" of the stunted fir-trees. Here and there a stream bound ing along its rocky bed, or a stray ouzel, with its poor chirping, may strive to break the melancholy spell ; but the general aspect of Nature is mournful, and where beauty exists it is as the beauty of a statue—cold, and voiceless, and dead. It was on a warm and sunny day in July that I first vi sited a fishing village, about nine miles from what was then my home in Newfoundland. The road (almost the only one the island could then boast), after skirting the shores of a fine lake, entered a picturesque valley, the hills on either side rising in rich and varied undulations, clothed with the dark green foliage of the low fir-trees, varied occasionally by the white blossoms of the wild pear and cherry, or the young leaves of birch and balsam-pop lar. Here and there a huge mass of rock chewed itself above the trees ' • in one place stone was heaped on stone as if by the hand of man, and in the crevices, shrubs, and mosses, and wild-flowers, had found root, and were hang ing like garlands round a gigantic tomb. As we neared the place of our destination the valley widened, the one range of hills stretching on the right, the other trending away to the left along the coast of the bay ; which lay calm and beautiful before us. An island, above, whose rocky and precipitous coast were green slopes, to which a thin haze lent unwonted beauty, stretched across the quiet waters ; and far away were the blue hills of the opposite horn of the bay. By the road-side a small stream from one of the hills danced along its way, broken by many falls and tumbling headlong at last over a tall rock into the sea. There were fishing boats moving in the bay, and the little packet-boat was waiting, with loosened sails, for a passenger, I suppose. We spent some time in exploring on foot some of the rugged paths made by the water-courses of spring on the hill-sides, finding here and there patches of grass, and sometimes even of clover, and catching, as we rose higher, glimpses of scenery that awakened our admiration. At length we made our way to the unsightly village, and vi sited the school. It was with a strange feeling that I heard the familiar words of holy writ stammered forth by the ragged children in that wild place. ‘l , e obtained a holiday for the poor little creatures, and moved on towards the church. It was a low wooden building, with a dis proportionately small tower at one end • the interior was plain and neat. The burying-ground about it was on the slope of a hill, so rocky and hare, that when a corpse was to r be interred, the mould fo cover it was necessarily brought from a distance. Scanty, coarse grass grew about the little mounds th,t were scattered here and there, with rude, unengraved stones at their head. Two graves were distinguished from the rest by a covering of stone, sur rounded by a light wooden railing. One of them, I knew; contained the ashes of a little child, whose parents had chosen to bury her in that sad place; the other was the resting-place of one to whom a sorrowful history belonged. I had felt a strange interest in her who lay sleeping there, and now all I bad heard of her trials came vividly back to my mind. _ _ _ She was a member of a respectable family in the west of England, and had married with the consentof her rela tions. Soon after her marriage her husband proposed to visit America, where he was supposed to possess conside rable property. Mill of hope she accompanied him, leav ing her home and all the long• tried love that had blest her there, to follow him with a woman's fearless trust. He gave some plausible reason for calling at Newfoundland on his way to the continent of America, and she arrived there wearied and ill after a tedious voyage. Professing anxiety about her health, and assuring her it was abso lutely necessary for the good of his estates that he should proceed on his way immediately, he left her in lodgings and sailed for America. A few days afterwards messen gers from England arrived at St. John's in search of the fugitive husband, who was no more than a common swindler. Although deserted, a stranger in a strange land, yet the poor young wife was not long friendless. Some hvnevo lent persons offered her an asylum, and with them she found a home for some months. There was something inexpressibly touching in the gentle, uncomplaining pa tience, with which, as I have been told, she bore the grief that had made life dark for her. She never mentioned him who had so heartlessly deceived and deserted her. Surely she had loved him well to leave country and kin dred to follow him, and surely the grief that had the sharpest sting was the knowledge of his unworthiness! Her trust was broken for ever ; and as none could know the depth and sacredness of the love she had once felt, so none could have part in the bitterness of her disappoint ment and sorrow. But, though. her lips were silent, her pale cheek and failing frame bore witness4o the trouble that was slowly consuming her life. No word ever came from him, whom, perhaps, even yet she regretted. She did not say she expected to hear, and yet surely her woman's heart must have clung to some faint hope that, after all, he might not be as they said, and that he would come or send, not leave her utterly desolate to die among strangers ! But time passed on and brought no change, save that she grew weaker ;:.and when, at last, the long winter was over and the streams burst gladly from their icy bonds, the sorrowful stranger passed from the earth for ever. The remembrance of all this crossed my mind as I stood beside the grave, and tried to tear away the coarse grass that had forced its way between the railings, half hiding the stone slab. the who had been the darling of a happy home, who had been for a while a happy wife,—she whose heart sorrow had broken, yet not embittered,—she, the grateful, patient, sorrowful woman, lay there at my feet. Of all to whom she had been most dear, not one had soothed her hours of sorrow, not one had held her dying head, not one had looked upon her grave; and I, a very stranger, stood there alone, with tears ,in my eyes and sympathy in my heart, for grief that had passed by for ever. In the meantime my companions had all left me, and, suddenly waking from my meditations, 1 hurried after them to a small cottage, which we entered. There was but one person there, a very aged man, leaning over the expiring members of a wood fire. The wide chimney was the only passage through which the light entered, but it was a matter of little consequence to him, for he had long been totally blind. He was ninety-six sears old, had left his native place in Devonshire at the age of five-and twenty to seek his fortune in Newfoundland, and had lived for seventy long years in the village in which we found him—not in the same house, for he must, I should think, have outlived many such frail habitations. The schoolmaster, who had accompanied us, lifted the old man's red cap, and his long, snowy hair fell over his shoulders. One of our party was a little child, fair and gay, the petted darling of us all; and there was some thing very affecting in the contrast between the glow and beauty of her young life and the helplessness and poverty of that man's old age. "He had children," he said, " but he knew little of them now ; he was very old ; be did not often hear any thing of them." Poor old man I My heart ached ftir him, and the merry child grew silent and grave, and crept closer to her mother. But a slow step drew near, and an old woman entered the cottage, laden with sticks. She took little notice of us, but made her way to the chimney-corner, and, laying her hand on the old man's knee, bent over the fire and heaped up the sticks till there was a cheerful blaze. The schoolmaster told us she was the old man's wife, younger than himself by twenty years. We turned away, and the door closed on the poor old coupe. The sunshine could not enter their windowless dwelling ; Poverty and Age were their daily companions ; and yet there was something beautiful and soothing in the remembrance of that weak woman still fulfilling her la; boar of love ! All was not dark in that poor hovel, for kindliness and affection had lived on through time and change ; and I thanked Heaven that such things could be. I remember little else of our excursion. There was a scrambling walk among the rocks, not the less agreeable for being almost dangerous. Then we made a hasty sketch of one of the little coves with which the shores of the bay abound, and then we all returned to the miserable inn and made ready for our homeward drive, lingering yet again to gaze on the sparkling waters—the only lifelike things in the landscape. About a year later my father again visited the old man I have mentioned. The long winter bad tried him severely, and the hand of death was upon him. His mind, too, shared the general decay, and he wandered in his speech. In a few weeks the old fisherman was car ried to his grave. The life of nearly a century was over, leaving no trace, save, perhaps, something of regret in the heart of the old wife, who must soon have followed him to the land of forgetfulness. WANT OF WATER.-PERNICIOUS CONSEQUENCES. (From Hogy's Weekly Instructor.) In some things, the present age has made advances on the past, and left the ancients far in the rear. But in the supply of water for the masses of the population, we are still far behind what the Romans were two thousand years ago. They thought nothing of bringing in water to the people at the expense of the state, by twenty aqueducts, forming a total length of more than 200 miles! Taking the population of Rome at three millions, including child ren and slaves, every individual could command a supply of 100 gallons of pure water daily. What are our sup plies compared with this! While London could be easdy supplied from one noble river, and from a moderate dis tance, and Manchester by an aqueduct of ten miles in length, the former has less than thirty, and the latter not more than five gallons daily for each person ! This may at first view seem abundant, but when the quantity which should be used for public purposes is subtracted, very little will remain for personal and domestic use. In cast ing our eyes over one of the abstracts furnished in the late government account, we were struck with astonishment to find the following remarkable cases of deficient supply in large towns :—Leicester contains 11,741 houses, and has no public supply of water. Nottingham has 11,617 houses, of which only 3,500 are supplied by the water companies. Birmingham has 40,281 houses, and not more than 8,000, or a fifth of the whole, are supplied. We can add to this a case in Scbtland which has come under our own notice. The town of Dundee has a population of nearly 70,0U0, and there has hitherto been no proper public supply of water ! There are a few wells open to the people, but these are not adequate to the supply of their domestic wants, far less to the cleansing of the streets and lanes of the town. The deficiency is partially made up by water sold at a high price in carts. The consequence of ad this is great local impurity, notwithstanding the utmost vigi lance of the police, and a constant and virulent prevalence of typhus fever. There is one model n city which forms an honourable exception to this tco common rule : New York, by the Croton aqueduct, can furnish 180 gallons per day to each individual, if required. It gives us plea sure also to notice, that Glasgow is likely to form another example, ere long, when the new Gravitation Company have brought into that city the pure sweet water of Loch Katrine. It is important to inquire what is the probable reason of the stinted supply ? Why have not the labouring classes a sufficient quantity of water for personal ablution, and for culinary uses? It has been alleged that they are not ca pable of appreciating the advantages either of personal or domestic cleanliness. This impression, if well founded, would certainly render nugatory all efforts to better their condition. But the allegation is groundless, or, at least, is only applicable to the very lowest and most vici - ous of the people. We are not very sanguine, indeed, that the cold bath will be very generally used in this country. The nature of the climate is a barrier to this, and there is. not among us the same natural craving for the bath as in the warmer clime of France. Still we are persuaded that our artizans and mechanics can appreciate, and will culti vate, comparative cleanliness when the means are within their reach. The chief reason why many of them have become indifferent, if not insensible to this virtue, is, be cause facility has not been afforded them. It is the deli berate opinion of her Majesty's commissioners on the health of towns, that the above allegation " is a most er roneous view of the feelings" of the poorer classes. In proof of this, abundant evidence has been adduced. Se veral witnesses examined before the commission, who were owners of cottages, gave it in evidence, that the peo ple warmly expressed their willingness to pay for a better supply • and that an increased rental had been obtained after the water had been introduced into their dwellings. Mr. Smith, an owner of cottages in Preston, states, that his tenants agree to pay him twopence a-week for a con stant supply laid in to their dwellings, but that be has not charged it to them, as he found that he was sufficiently repaid by the improved demand for his houses. Medical witnesses too, have given evidence as to the marked im provement in the cleanliness, as well as the health of the people, where this important change has been made in their houses. Notwithstanding such facts as these, it is still surmised that the poorer classes would not pay for an abundant supply of water laid in their dwellings. Even although this were true, still we would contend for its being fur nished either at the public expense, or by the landlord, whose interest it would so plainly promote. But we re but the charge of unwillingness to pay. In our large towns, the poor have hitherto paid a most extrava gant price for water. In such cases as Newcastle-upon- Tyne, where there are sale-pants,' or stand-pipes for the poor, they pay a price which is more than four times the rate charged for a private supply to a house. This arises from the water being doled out in small quantities, and by the lessee or superintendent of the sale-pant,' who receives a high commission for his trouble. And in addi tion to the high price, the poor are subjected to great loss of time, waiting to have their vessels filled, not to speak of the drudgery of carrying it a considerable distance to their houses. These facts are better than abstract argu ments, and strongly incline us to the belief that the la bouring part of the population are at once able to appre ciate the value of cleanliness and comfort, and would cheerfully pay for a plentiful supply of water. The best means for precuring such a supply has long been a difficult question. But light is now beginning to dawn on this point, and on the public mind. The whole of the evidence laid before the government commission goes to establish the position, that two or more compa nies professedly competing in one town, afford no real guarantee to the public that they shall be furnished with the purest water at the most reasonable price. Private individuals and joint stock companies embarking in any such enterprise, naturally seek the best possible return for the capital invested, and hesitate to supply the houses of the poor unless landlords become responsible. While the exposure to the evils of competition by a second com pany, in a locality vihere only one exists, imposes a salu tary check on the conduct of managers—still the invest ment of a second capital in the same town, with its staff of officers, and maintenance and management of works, renders it necessary fir the , public to pay more for their water than they would do unt'e,r pne compel - 1y properly constituted and well.regulated.' ** Under this conviction, the commission on the health of towns has issued several recommendations, which, if acted on, will secure to all classes a cheap and abundant supply of this first necessary to life, comfort, and cleanliness. ..----.-....ep...- CORN-CONSUMPTION AND IMPORTATION, The whole question rests on an assumed deficiency in the country of human food to last till the fruits of ano ther harvest come into use. If the assumption be ccr rect, two things are to be desired (whatever else,) namely, that the present consumption of food should be diminish ed, and that as large a quantity of bread-stuffs should be introduced from abroad as possible. By universal confession, the only available method of diminishing the consumption of the country on a large scale is by raising prices. Were the ports now to be opened, it is not only confessed, but it is the object aimed at, to lower prices, perhaps some twenty per cent. GM e effect. then, of the measure so strongly advocated, would be to increase very considerably the present consumption, and consequently to leave a less amount of food to be consumed during the remainder of this year of scarcity. The opening of the ports, then, in this point of view,' would be a disadvantage and not an advantage. But this disadvantage,—this present increased consump tion of human food—would be (it will be argued) much more than compensated for, by the greatly increased im portation consequent upon the opening of the ports.. Let us look then at this part of the question also. What regulates the extent of the importation is the pro bable amount of profit, according to the views of merchants and speculators, to be derived from the importation. Prices are very high in this country at present, and the confirmed impression of the mercantile community is, that they will rise to be so high as to admit foreign corn sub ject only to a nominal duty. In this belief a very large importation is about to be made from every quarterwhence it can be made. Suppose the ports bad been opened by order in council some six weeks or two months ago. (as keenly argued for,) and in consequence, prices in this country had fallen twenty per cent., would the importa tion have been as great, or greater, under that posture of things, than it wilt be under the present, which. the cabi net has preferred? We submit it is a question of great Dee. 0, 1845. 6irtbs, i'larriageo anti Eilsari)'. BIRTHS. sßno o Oatph n nes t ,et h hmh e ielod 2 s2, 2 s3o n . dsfdi Moss - side, ei ult., st,o.hnto.ho i e n s nw L a riorenehd,ooofilf, Joshua ue l a a c d hl y vi adoirfme children, ,iaeayrloi nvrLirsi c o . rn;eivdde: a sme n ov d teir li ma k rl e ;s l y elari t f o es, d bs n ahe w ek e h. l a i v . i Doubts,ng been in a weakly however. ar e s t e a n t t e e rtoar! nbeedailloihfdytfhooerf On the 24th ult., at Carmoyle, county of Limerick, the • W. S. O'Brien, Esq., M•P., of a dauzhter. - Louisa 1./ ard of a On the 27th ult., at Bowood, the Lady Louisa ow • son. C o O r b n m o e ft t e t ha , d es E a 2° y s di q: lit,nhosetfaan ladyt 'o On the 29th ult., the Lady Ashley, of a daughter• Same day, at Cove of Cork, the lady of Commander De Co ce s y a , On the 4th instant, in Grosvenor-place, of a son. , at of L j o . nßgannoery Bailey, t a i n l , Salop, the lady of gdw• On the 24th ultimodaughter of Joseph iden•ten, Esq., Everton, an d niece Edelsteu, Esq., pin manufacturer, Warrington . Ric On the 25th ultimo, at St. John the Baptist' s Church. R ~ ... .. Hug 4 Bentley, Esq., to Charlotte, daughter of tr , e la te Thos. Mr. James Sergent,jun „ to Eleantoors, 00.11,13: Esq., of Bedford•streef, Toxteth-park. On the 27th ultimo, at St. Nicholas's Church , the Right Rev. the Lord Bishop:of that diocese,Archibald Rolle.ll_ son, Esq., M.D., of Northampton, to Anne, fifth d - atightel: jetrnea. Here late John Matthews, Esq., of Belmont, in the count,' o f lord. by the Same day, at Aynho, in the county of Nortlnmptoll, Dal' Reverend Frederick W. Cartwiight, Matthew Piers Wtdt Sob°, top, Esq., of Sew Park, in the county of Oxtor_d, ht ,_.• W. Staffordshire, to Franc s Eliza Carter, youngest dauger La R. Cartwr'ght, Esq., M P. for the county of Northampton.of the Same day, the Rev. John Gflby I.onsdale, second son a _ . ,, e, Bishop of Lichfield, to Sarah, only surviving child of D. -I v u ' Esq.. Regent's-park, London. John 13. h Rev • Same da), at St. Mary's Church, Cowes, by t e • gala Atkinson, M.A., Henry, only son of Sir William and LadY_ e t Oglander, of Parnham, Dorsetshire, and Nunwell, in George Wight, to Louisa, youngest datighter of the late Sir tie' Leeds, Bart., of Cr xton.park, Cambridshire. a'arttef li On the 30th ultimo, at St. John the Bkptist's Church , -- t oo Park, Mr. John Bery to Miss Isabella Cunningham, b oth of town. 110 01 e Mr J Same day, at Farnworth, by the Rev. W.Jeff, • ' to Miss Ann Rigby, of Eccleston.Moreland to Same day, at St. Phillip's Church, Mr. Henry aer Hereford,o.__,.ll. Eliza, daughter of the late Mr. Robert Quayle, cabinet -Ma tter' On the Ist instant, at St. Peter's Church, Mr. William . 8 . q .. son, : arpenter and joiner, to Cordelia, third daughter of ''' James Boult, of Yarmouth, Norfolk. R. M L. IteV• On the 2nd instant, at St. Philip's Church, by the id. Townsend. M.A., Mr. John Williams, joiner, to Miss AnO chards Broad. , Wallin!) Same day, at Newingto a Independent Chapel, Mr. Pugh to Jane, eldest daughter of Mr. John Rothwell. tsal Same day, at St. Bride's Church, Mr. Henry ThoMPsO-. ' dealer, to Miss Mary Fennell, both of this town. Ce Pt• Same day, at St. Mwy's Church, Marylebone, London, ei, Wm. Temple Parrett, of the 19th (Ist York North Riding) i f l an d e,. ment of Foot, youngest son of H. M. Parrett, Esq.. of E - t o ham House, Surrey to Helen Dunbar, eldest daughter of late Robert Warden, Esq., of Parkhill, Stirlingshire, N.B• 4e , Same day, at Charlton Church, by the Rev. Joh n B. Ma',,,a,. Senior Fellow of Queen's College, Oxon, the Rev. Alfred So..‘'W youngest son of the late Edward Suart, Es, of Bent Gloucestershire, and of Lime Hill, Tunbridge . Wells, to ,7, 0 , mond Mary Anne, only daughter of the late Lieut. Col. W11e". 13th Regiment. of Tanbride e Wells._ - Same day, at St. Bride's Church, by wat, the Rev. J. Ste . • re os M A., Mr. John Gerard Geller, jun. of Everton, to Louisa land, daughter of the late Mr. Wm. Cockson. of loondon- e ai On the 3d instant. at St George's Church, Everton , hY,;',: r .. Rev. John Fearon, George, eldest son of the late JosePh, "..n. rison, Esq., Mersey-cottage, Birkenhead, to Eliza, only °a u ° ter of Thomas Chegwin, ESQ.. Edge-lane. cabi' Same day, at Edge-hill Church, Mr. Alexander Procter. „d ' net maker, &c., to Ann, eldest daughter of the late Jas. I,d' Ewood bridge, Haslinto an. t. tbd On the 4th instant, g at St. John the Baptist's Churc h, „ Rev. J. Hassell, M.A., Mr. Lewis Young, to Ann, eld est daug... ter of Mr. James Smith, of Toxteth park. • W. Same day, at St. Georges Church, Everton, by the ReL • 0, W. Ewbank. Thomas Hampson, jun., son of Thomas Han'tPd° Do Esq., of Aigburth, to Alice, eldest daughter of Mr. James dall, of Edge6th ill Itaf' On the .h instant, at Toxteth Chapel, by the Rev. Dr. .., flea, Samuel, second son of Mr. John Rutherford to Ma" ' only child of the late Mr. Peter B. Litherland. t• bi Same day, at the Wesleyan Chapel, Great Homer-Are •, 0 the Rev. C. M. Birrell, Ba)tist Minister, the Rev. Can ll l , Pietro Vinceozo Melchiorre Baldassarre Vlapei, D.D , fortoe', : / a Roman Catholic Priest, Conon of the Cathedral, ExarMo v . l. ,... the Clergy, and Professor of Theology, at Penne, in the 1 0 1., dom of Naples, to Caroline, third daughter of John B• B il rows, Esq., surgeon, Great Orford-street. He On the 7th instant, at St. Nicholas's Church , Mr. ~. Hale, foreman in the fitting department of the Ncw Gas cl pany, to Ellen, daughter of Captain Clancy, Royal EngW.f.ell Co'. On the 7th instant, at St. Anne's Church, Isaac Row"" ~,a. Charlotte, second daughter of Mr. Mark Clifford, of this td^" • . tO This morning, at St. Catherine'., Church, Mr. J. Bowma n Miss Alice Jeffery. MARRIED DIED. tat° In May last, at Calcutta, of cholera. in his 2 7th year , CaP William Penn, of the barque Coaxer, of this port, seco nd son u" the late Mr. Joseph Penn, cabinet-maker, Maryport. „r. On the 24th ult., aged 54 years, at her residence in CroPIEI.-c-ii street, after a lingering illness, which she bore with u„1, patience and resignat on, Mary, the beloved wife o f Josef France. 34r• On the 22d ult.. at Driffield, in the 67th year of his age, s o f John Winrow. He was one of the most eccentric chara cter . ,„ the day, being faithful in his attendance at the Hymene al al l a upon all marriage occasions, nor was h 2 less so at the shrine cid death, keeping a re^ ular diary of all marriages, birt hs, deaths, for a number of years. On the 26th ult., at Conway, aged 41, Thomas Parry, surgeon. mr. Toxteth-park Same day, in Mann-street, Worrall, formerly of Wrexham. Same day, at Milnthorpe, at the advanced age of 102, Mfr John Shepherd, a native of Cumberland. Jobn On the 27th ult., at Nannerch, Flintshire, the Rev . Hughes, rector of te above place. other Same day, at Bridlington, aged 93, Mrs. Mary Pe:ritt, Mo th of Mr. J. Perritt, schoolmaster, of that place. licOennsethdev2ictittthudnlletr.: Scotland-road.ah, wife of Mr. W. Ye,arjsolei:: On the 29th ult., at his residence, Kensington , aged 5 , Claypole, Esq. Same day, at the residence of his grandmother. SY- Trammere, aged 2 ' , cars, John Law-on. Same day, at Tyldesley, of a rapid consumption, aged 42, George Hand Bond, son-in-law of John Jannion, Churchli id-house, Runcorn. Same day, much respected, aged 77, Mrs. Eleanor Highfielt On the 30th ult ., in London, in his 6 7th year , J ohn Martineau, Esq. Same day, at the residence of her Edge-hill, aged 70, Ann, relict of the Jaques, R.N. Same day, Christina Sudworth, wife of Mr. N. Glynn, IneY-Pla ce° Mr. sq.' of son-io-law, Mt T. Martin► e late Lieutenant Anthoni Duke-street, Edge•hill. Same day, aged 35, Mary, th wife of Mr. J. Read, Heath' street. Same day, Mary Ann, eldest daughter of the late E. Yates, Es Same of Ince, in the county of day, at Ravenhead, near Chester. St. Helen's, aged 7 2, " Ais6 Haddock. Same day, at Oxton, Isabella King, daughter of Mr. T. In° of her Majesty's Customs. Same day, at his residence, Pembroke-place, in the 7Stlri tar .... of his age, Mr. Thomas Drewry, gentleman, formerly of Lan en O , Staffordshire. n the Ist inst., at Southport, Elizabeth Livesey, daughter ° the late J. Eccles, Esq., of Lower Darwen. d, Same day, at T rquay, Lady Johnstone, wife of R. Weylaa,:r Esq ,of Woodeaton Oxfordshire, and widow of the la te J. L. Johnstone, Bart., of Westerhall, Dumfriesshire. f CaPa Same day, at Greenock, aged 13, Ann, eldest daughte r o taro Wm. Blackie, of the -lames Dean, now in this port, a" granddaughter of Mr. J. Maitland, of Bittern-street. • On the 2d inst., at the residence of her brother-in-law. CLP,:, taro J. W. Little. Hill-street, Miss Margaret , daugh ter of 0." W. Bell, of Whitehaven. Same day, Patty, relict of the late S. N. Bennet., Ch ez- ter. Elea Same day, at Edge-hill, in her 7 2 d year, Mrs. Elizabeth stOr - widow of the late Lieut , nant John , R.. Same day, aged 61, Mr. Thomas Stoyle Croskell N , upholsterer sod cabinet-maker, Shaw's-brow. Same day, in Kent-street, Henrietta, daughter of French, of her Majesty's Customs at this port. Mr On the 3d inst., aged it) mcnths, Hannah, daughter of - • Johnson, timber merchant. Same day, aged 43, . Rotunda Inn, Waterloo- ro, 400581. 1 11223 t. Esq . ' ° „... , Mr. George Skane, victuaVer, a the • the reside,ce of On the 4th inst , at Croft Cottage, Wave,...., her son-in-law, Mr. John Jones, Old Haymarket, a ged b 4 Ye' f' Inn, relict of the late Mr. William Knowles. t i ffS• day, at the residence of her granddaughter, hp , her-street, aged 91, Martha, , elict of Captain his '^ of Cazneau•street. avd of l t v.-tv-on, in h ip lin - s -o, Gt the '— firm of Heal u•* and LyoM aother of Captain '1 I of il" Chariotte, of tlOs port pawnliroke:s, of this 1( uay. at Ilverley, aged 77, Robert father of Wm. Stephenson, Esq., of Hull, i roprietor of Eastern Counties Herakt. Same day, awfully sudden, at an advanced age, ?Het of the late R. Peters, Esq. Same dfcy, at the residence of his mothe r, at WalWO_lthoi Mr. Vere H. Monies, late of Calcutta , a nd brother Surrey: M r. D. 1! [lies, of this town. -- at Clifton, Emma, wife of E. D. Murray. Esq" doubt. Under the open system you would have comparatively thi S s a town.m Same a ." . low prices here. Abroad the prices would have gone very On the 6th instant, at BrooldAlids, Trinmere, in the eta co .ri ., high relatively, that is, this country would have had to of ( hester, aged 4 J, Fanny, the wi e of Robert Undo , / C'" - pay far snore into the pockets of foreiynersfor theirfood, Esq., barrister-at-law. because no duty was now payable here. Would it be a gain to the country to pay million or two more for the 1 towsa. e day, aged 33 the 7th instant, in the 37th year of his age, Mr. John tic a 0 nnm necessary supply ? Would the position of affairs under ostf r F ee ie t l . d.areet, Eyerton, eldest son of Mr. Phil i p Hope, fi open ports have afforded greater inducements to tr ade in e l the importation of corn than the present system? We on the Sth instant, at her residence , at the again doubt the lac . While there is no question , that Cheshire, aged '& 13 . 3 ! 72, Elizabeth, wi ow of the late R ichard the present increase of consumption, consequent on the ton, paper dealer, of this town. present reduction of prices, accomplished by the opening ------- of the ports, would be, on the supposition of a deficiency in the harvest, a serious evil.—Record. Years, Mr. William Gurley, printer' , c RAILWAY TRAFFIC RETURNS. (From file Railway Magazine of Salurdc Passes- I Money ANALYSIS OF AN Edo.—The yolk of an egg contains 1 oleic, margaric, and phosphoric acids , water , an albumi- 1 nous substance, salts, lactic acid, two colouring sub- Arbroath and Forfar Birmingham and Gloucester Chester and Birkenhead Dublin and Drogheda Dublin and Kingstown • Dundee a:id Arbroath. Durham and Sunderland .. 1963 i x'l66 stances, &c. PAVING of TOWNS- - Before. the eleventh century none of the great cities of the present day were paved, except Rome and Cordova. Paris did not enjoy this ad vantage, according to Rigord, physician and historian to Philippe-Auguste, who relates that tbe king, being aLthe window of his palace which commanded a view of.'the Seine, perceived that the carriages passing in the mire diffused a most offensive odour, which induced him to is sue an order forthe paving of the streets, notwithstanding the expense of it; the dread of incurring which, he was aware, had hitherto deterred his predecessors. Since that period the city • took .the name of Paris, instead of Lutetia, which originated in - the number of its sloughs. Even London was not paved at that time ; many of its principal streets Were not thus improved till the 15th cen— tury. Holborn was done in 1417. Dijon commenced the Paving of the streets in 1391. In 1285 an order from Philippe-le-Nardi commanded the citizens of Paris to pave and sweep the street before . their houses at their own expense; but this mandate was so badly executed, that, in 1309, the city was swept at the public cost, under the inspection of the police. Till the fourteenth century tbe inhabitants of Paris were suffered to throw every nuisance from their windows, provided they cried out three times, " Take care I" This license 'was interdicted in 1372 ; and still more strictly in 1395. An order was also issued to prevent pigs running through the streets. in conse quence of the accident which happened to the young king Philippe. That prince, returning from Rheims, where he went to be crowned, while passing Saint-Gervais, a pig dashed between his ,horse's legs, and threw him down. The king fell backwards ; and, in a few days, died of the injuries he had sustained in the fall.—Shalpeis London Magazine. • Edinburgh and G 1 Eastern Countie Glasgow and Ayr Glasgow and ,greenock Grand JunctioW. • Gravesend and Rochest( Great North of England Great Western Hull and Seib) Hartlepool Dock and Rail Liverpool and Manchester London ana Birmingham. London and Blackwall London and Brighton London and Croydon London and Greenwich Southwestern Manchester, Bolton, and Buryl Manchester and Birmingham. Manchester and Leeds and Hull and Selby — 5731 Midland Counties Newcastle and Darlington Newcastle and Carlisle — 1930 Newcastle and North Shields 18232 444 North Union 10295 1417 North Midland .. Paris and Orleans Paris and Rouen 14928 4922 Preston and Wyre Sheffield and Manchester 26292 1126 South Eastern .• Taff Vale • 2602 i 1117 Ulster lllO4 610 Yarmouth and Norwich York and North Midland •, ~ 21: 689} 5056 686 MI I 4(92 15284 930 61 4036 1 0 43 41