The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1848-01-11 00:00:00

ittUraturr. ,NOTICES. Ifermons, chiefly Practical. By the late Rev. R. P. Buduicom. London: Hatchard and Son; Liverpool: A. Newling. These two volumes have been published in compliance with a very generally expressed wish by the friends of the *uthor to have some memorial of one they so highly es 'Seemed and valued. A propo%ition was, we learn from the preface, submitted to the relatives of the lamented deceased, that a memoir of his lite would be very accep table to all who knew and loved him ; but this intention was not persevered in, because "it militated against the most sacred wishes of deceased -..e sermons betore us were preached at Everton and lit.'Bees, and we are persuaded that the members of those congregations will be glad to avail themselves of an opportunity of possessing so appropriate a memorial departed minister. The sermons are. as the title indicates, chiefly of a practical tendency ; and whilst, It many instances, they contain scriptural arguments on the constitution and discipline of the Church 01 Christ, they abound with searching and affectionate appeals to the members of that Church to '• walk worthy of their 'ugh vocation." The last sermon in the series—which consists of no less than tifty-one—was the last which Mr. Buddicom preached i • and the subject of it, " The Pro tress and Blessings of the Gospel," was ever near to that • food man's heart. , The following extract from a discourse, entitled, " Worldly solicitude Rebuked," and preached the Sun slay after the distressing death of Mr. Huski.son, is as iipplic.able at the present m.ment as it was men : ... To satisfy the eager and restless cravings of a spirit sf luxury, prise, and self-indulgence, which, like the two daughters of the horse-leech, is continually crying ' Give, the acquirement of wealth is considered as the To turn every thing we touch into ancient fable speaks, or to ;old, like him of whom t realise the dre lehymists, is regarded as the perfection of human wisdom. Hence the avidity with is of d, which th, :old and caiculati ;chemes of political eco- nomy, however ter be ucilabh; ealiong themselves, have promulgated and received. I call them cold and calculating scuemes, because they app,ar to regard every thing within the land, whether matLrim or moral, as food for the crucible, to be changed into wealth. And 0, how many precious moral and material realities, which ye disappeared in the experi illy little richer than we wealth could never buy sal spirit of traffic, t wide-spread contagion of speculation, which, iu its eager regard of the end, overlooi.eu all the reasonable probabi- s, and made tins country a ►ew years ago wonder, and almost the mockery, of the world. ce that unsanctified pressure of business, Satan's power.ul as well as men from seeing ti most secret device, which Inn le things which belong to their tm increasing numbers of those lay house to house, and field to re. * * * The true divinity place ; and worse than atheism, t empty, has the love of wealth ndeavounng tro his . • h throne. Covetousness, inordinate desire and so macs of tatuing ith arise, offers been y said, ' a more daring and positive ht and territory of Almighty God self. The latter would desolate the a infidelity ii ,oly place." 'rofiress Improvert, tof Human Society. By London : Nisbet & Co. Ilexander a address delivered to the Manchester Scotch Society, on the pro, Tess and urn- aided by the providence, he Supreme God ; with s propounded by Mr. Emerson. eloquence and precision, and incingly establishes the 1 is he maintains ; and as at industriously argued k for himself on one ration, he say Writers and lecturers some- %in minds by verb derided the tern' Inspiration hem it meant nothing : the infidels of the present s any 3peare h these it we iney spired ; v body w Jean Jacques is inspired; what is this :erm out of its proper ntous dis action be- stamping them with Royal image and by confounding the one you confuse the a breathing into, to denote the or is said, ' the ins] inal be ration of and 100 s of idt Imighty giveth men T Jut corn! Kindly do we wish to welcon tered skill to o ierTieasuretobe derived frog f cultiv when these uoymer But tc not endanger of prai at he calls the moon is in edips, skill whE ation, as a figure. Ind it may But its 11 Philosophic, as well as Theologic rizaturat operation on the mind, in the mind :—both, the one dir fate personal act of the ;e personal act of the ; and to draw a sponge I no earnest seeker of truth eker of truth should, vow themselves to be the word of God spoken to the advancement of society in the sons a genius and We are not insensible to e products o we taste with re matured under the Inch dross and even some than remain deprived of iy form of original talent can im ality there must be a limit vital and enduring, whose safety we 0, it had been our joy to yield the Emerson come among us, from fruits of literary hours, gathered ream.' By that stream, the ancient Squaw may per adly herbs, or with choppy gwaum, drops may be drawn noint with death the weapon love not her fell Botany ; Humanity bids her ith she brews ak her alembic, and go gather for the sick ones a ,n of a distant region, has, with mistaken _Arne to his nation's Fatherland, bearing what, ~ed, will freeze the life-blood which for ages has d through her mighty breast, which has warmed her and kindled her eye, and borne her on as the 'on of freedom and the protectress of virtue in moral strife. But looking Britain's intellect and Bri ain's heart must reject his offering. Yet let us remem - that we are not, with undiscriminating view, to think rthily of A- a unit of her on a mission of harm. .nd this an intellectual, man sad gift he has brou &ERICA, merely becau millions I s come, as I believe this would be equally unge Rerous and unjust." is of the British Constitution. By the Rev. J. D. Vicar of Polesworth, Warwickshire. Lou- Painter. en such mighty changes in the constitution of this om are being brought about, as we are almost daily t to, it is more than ever necessary to understand uglily, at all events, the essential elements of that The design of the work before us is to give ar a view as possible of those parts of our social vith which every Briton ought to be acquainted. any years ago," says the author, " the principles locked up in the Com- mentaries of Blackstone, and the folios of other writers ; and the vast majoiity of Englishmen were free, without knowing the precise grounds of their freedom." This hindrance has been removed by sAch works as that of De Lolme and the one before us. Mr. Schomberg avoids every thing of an extraneous nature, and gives us a corn; isive N Civil Gove ive PowE Power Monarchy—Tl The Judicial Pc the Executive Power- —The Ec?l, Legisla !siastical The Administrative Pc The Monarchical Power Ld The Checking Power. Lye their distinctive fea- accinctly rk are, fit all the rest, 'HE LEGISLATIVE POWER, ate where t supreme power. It is, vitality to the Constitu- tiiner, ti mender sertion derogatory tt or Queen of England ;lat are, don. Was no leek arising fr( rims—the Le; rived of t :tray * tituted that the le interest of no r were invested In one. Hotise of of Commons receive moneyea, professions , ugly power holds the balance, and gives its ultimat fiction to the laws. The two houses are a sufficies Leek on each other's movements, as far as relates to great Institutional points—a fact which our own history, since e Revolution, will abundantly testify." would do. and what no preter had M ,uthoiit ,t part of t be consequent ended pyoniietary r that this words are t le bulwark * The Lc iinst, we THE ECCLESIASTICAL POWER " It will scarcely be denied that this great institution — the Church of England—is part of the British Constitu tion. As a national Establishment, it is a bulwark of no common power. It is worse than trifling to say that it is a creature of the State, or mere engine for carrying on the purposes of Government. It is as much a part of the Constitution as the House of Lords or Commons, or even the Monarchy itself. It has been said that the State could go on without it : so it undoubtedly would—so it would without the House of Lords or even the Monarchy. It would go on, because the course of society must pro ceed. But the question is—how would it go on ? The Constitution of England would have lost an integral part of its subsistence. If it be enquired what part in the Constitution it sustains ?—let it be answered, the most beneficial, the most benevolent, the most powerful. The legislative po er acts for the general welfare, by the enactment of beneficial laws ; the judicial power, by the just application of them; the executive, by duly and im partially enforcing them • but the ecclesiastical power, by informing the understanding, enlightening the conscience, infusing the moral vigour of Christianity amongst the mass of the citizens, and training them as candidates for immortality. It is impossible to calculate the influence of such an institution upon all ranks of society : it acts as a consoling principle : it binds together the different parts of the body politic : it is, indeed, the citadel of the Con stitution. If God be the originater, founder, and pre server of society, it is the altar that sanctifies the temple of the social system : it strengthens the throne, nerves the arm of the magistrate, supports th e l a ws, a n d blesses the people. It has been said that the Church is allied to the State—an expression too often used without reflec tion. It is allied to the State in the same way that the Monarchy is allied to the State, or the House of Com mons: it is one of the elements of the Constitution. It has been argued, that her churches and emoluments be long of right to the Ronianists. by whom they were built and endowed. With as much truth might it be said, that the Throne belongs to them, St. Stephen's Chapel, and the House of Lords. All have passed through their hands, and for each we have had equally to contend. It has also been asked why the present Church, to the ex clusion of all others, has been chosen to till up this part of our Constitution ? It is answered—the present Church has not been chosen : it is the oldest institution of the country : it existed before the Monarchy, or the Lords, or Commons, or the Popish Church: it is nearly coeval with Christianity itself. The Church of England we may consider as the true apostolieal episcopacy, which has devolved to us through succe , sive generations, delivered, at the Reformation, from the abuses imposed upon it during a long season of darkness, and, in a great mea sure, restored to its pristine excellence and beauty. The present ecclesiastical establishment is, therefore, in its ()wig PROPER PLACE in the Constitution. It is not there by preference : it has usurped no other Church : it is not there by permission nor by compulsion : it is its own witness—its own legitimatizer : it has fulfilled and is now fulfilling the duties of its function in the Constitution, if not with all the efficiency which might be expected from its resources, yet with admirable consistency and advan tage to the community." Sermons by the late Rev. Thos. Tattershall, D.D., F.C.P.S., 8; c. B(c., late Incumbent of St. Auyustine's, in this town; with Memoir, by the Rev. Thos. Byrth, D.D., F.A.S., Rector of Wallasey. Webb : Castle-st. Seldom has a volume been laid upon our table for which we could at once anticipate a circulation so rapid and ex- R.) many tensive as this, whose - title we hay )refixed the volume before us an interest far beyond what is ordi nary. The deserved estimation in which the pious and learned minister of St. Augustines was uniformly and uni versally held, the fragrance of his memory amongst all classes up to this moment, the affectionate and confiden tial Litimacy known to subsist between his erudite editor and himself for so many years, and the consequent cor diality with which Dr. Byrth may be supposed to have given himself to the task, dipping his pen into his heart, and suffering it to overflow, 'as it were, upon the page of his memoir—and his eminent fitness, from a thorough ac quaintance with the sentiments of his author, to send forth to the public his deliberate opinions, admitting no thing save what was perfectly in accordance with the krawn , ntiments of his friend : these considerations, and ring. will :rved they are all wholly independent of the intrinst slue either of the memoir or the sermons, must it will be ob !cure for any wo: lost favour and of the be lessened profits of the publication belong e person of all others best enti- able reception &mil the public of Liverpoc will this in when it. is known that t to the bereaved v • , tied to reap th e harve le who laboured has not Interwoven throughthehi;iOrTWisr. Tattershall's pa rentage and early as well as academic life, will be found several original letters from the celebrated John Wesley, whose r hop Kyder and others, These already bear toge- mess to that ,r with that t y and intellectual pov friendly but acCur It is neither our desire or our purpose to memoir. icipate, by in the perusal of the memoir itself, which has but one unavoidable fault, viz. that of being too short. Still, generally erroneous estimate formed of ministerial 1 learning, that, coming from Dr. hem by unno- 'PA ves of Chrit stlan ministers notion, he says (p . _ .. sumption to supply words to ty is at hand of making him bout incident f the most the con- ion of the vicious, and and hope to the victims o labour, and minist Byrth lent or inte and grappling with the f 56), for we have not the I Dr. Byrth, wh llacv of ` Their histories are not wit )mmunic )n of I despair. It is theirs often to behold, and to be instrumen tal in producing that moral and spiritual change in the im mortal spirit, which is as life from the dead, and compared with which the discovery of a new planet will hereafter be el nom ari an nnimnnrtant avant It mow rirs+ I,a +lArsm.l,. Dr to touch upon another matter, not altogethe out of place, in writing the memoir of suc Tattershall unconnected with the foregoing reflections. The writer believes that a very inadequate estimate is formed by the bulk of mankind, of the amount of learning and talent cause in w prehension to the cat here to be connexion with•th to the thinking mi ministers of Christianity to the sacred are employed. The prevailing misap subject are productive of serious injury th. No formal correction of them is d. But there are two considerations in :object which recommend themselves d. The public _labours—we mean, of course, in the pulpit—of the preachers of the Gospel 'are exposed to the danger of being undervalued, from their frequent and periodical occurrence. No other class of mental workmen so often present themselves to scrutiny and observation. Their work is never done : the stream of their toil knows no interruption. —Ler con sideration which will find a place in the estimate of a candid observer of the intellectual character of the Christian ministry is, that even if the necessity of unre mitting appearances in public be of itself likely to deterio rate the quality of the productions of the speakers mind, the inferiority is rather assumed than demonstrated. It may be asserted, without hesitation, that any one in the habit of frequenting the places where the minds and thoughts of men fly forth upon the wings of words,' the Senate House and the Courts of Justice, will as frequently, in proportion, have to complain of meaningless or undi gested declamations, long speeches, winch owe their very length to the unwillingness or inability of the speaker to exercise previous thought, and the other qualities which make up the complement of the most wearying of all things, a tiresome oration, as he would deplore the same trial of his patience from the occupants of the seats of religious instruction and appeal." * We commend, in justice to the clergy generally, these considerations to the careful attention of our readers. Of Dr. Tattershall he adds, further on, " It was his lot, and he never repined it, to pursue his work without the worlds favour, and with little of what men call remunera tion. His income from his church never, exceeded, I believe, two hundred pounds. Like the great Apostle, he might almost say " these hands ministeredt o my necessities ; " for during almost the whole of his married life he was engaged in preparing young men for the Uni versity." With reference to this necessity, Dr. Bvrtb had said before in his prin te and the The ea rmon, partly r The best of his days I in this his strength have been expended in the preparin4 young men for the Uniiersitiei. It is well that the youth of the higher classes should be committed to the care and in struction of the clergy. But the latter cannot be at once writing books and teaching others to read them." The details of Dr. Tattershall's ministry amongst us are so recent and familiar, that in the memoir before us less needful tha further mention should be made of them here. The account of his funeral is taken from one of our local contemporaries, with (may we say) a deserved eulogy on the periodical press of Liverpool. We have already so far exceeded our usual and intended limits, that we must forbear for the present from any notice of • the subject matter of the admirable sermons that com prise the body of the work. At some future time we may possibly return to it. Enough, however, has been done in calling the attention of our readers to the publication itself. We speak as to wise men, and are in nowise ap prehensive of their verdict upon what we have written. * We have hear( from his own lips. I n. C. Kendall Bushe;for Mice of the Queen's Beni ho heard it id, that it was volVed in the ordinary emi Readin task of than w the Railroad. London : Wertheim, Aldine A. book with t d moderate di le in desig t. It con Chamber above title, of very modest appearance, asions has come before us. It is very and likely to prove very, useful in its of short extracts judicially selected .5 persons, both . Hannah More, Cowper, Cecil, Bishop Horne, Leigh Richmond, &c., are sufficient guarantees for the character of the work ; and the appended index of subjects, renders its stories imme diately available, while its size and price must prove an additional attraction, ensuring for it a very wide circula- 4dvice to Clerk Hints to Employers. C. Mitchell, on -court, Fleet-street. hose invaluable little works which Mr, We recommend ii to every clerk, and, indeed, to ,t every young man who is entering upon the career of life, as an excellent guide to advancement and honest inde pendence. Employers of youth, moreover, may gather from its pages many a useful lesson. titu. y foi ad 0. 5) to t TIE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. The Parlour Library. " The Emigrants of Ahadarra," by T. J. Carleton. London. _ - . Mr. Carleton stands almost alone, or at all events above most of his contemporary tale writers and novelists in his nice appreciation of, and power of describing—the wild habits and eccentricities, both good and evil, of the peasantry of his native country. In the emigrants of Ahadarra, he has succeeded in painting some pictures of the peculiar features of Irish society which are worthy of being attentively studied. Jemmy Burke, the snug farmer, ,shrewd and industrious, yet carrying his gene rosity to a faulty extreme, and slovenly in the very points in which want of care renders his shrewdness and indus try vain, is a character too commonly to be found in Ireland and intimately associated with that country's want of progress in the social scale. The whole history of the Mahon family is full of interest and instruction. The old man, Tom Mahon especially, with his credulous reliance upon the word of a " gentleman " being as good as a lease, is a capital character, as are several others in the tale. The working out of the plot is not quite so happy as Mr. Carleton has been in some of his previous works ; and the conclusion strikes us as being somewhat hasty, as if the author had been pulled up before he had done with his subject. We have given some extracts below : occasion some vivid glances, that were burthened, as they passed aslant their fair faces, with pithier feelings than those that originated from a simple desire of victory. If truth must be told, baleful flashes, unmeasured both in number and expression, were exchanged in a spirit of true defiance between the interested and contending parties, as the close of the contest approached. At length, by the proclamation of the reelers, the great body of the compe titors were thrown out, and they consequently gave up the contest. It was now six o'clock, and the first sound of seven o'clock by Captain Millar's bell was to close the proceedings, and enable the reelers to proclaim the victor. Only four names now remained to battle it out to the last; to wit, a country farmer's daughter, named Betty Aikins, Dora M`Mahon, Hanna Cavanagh, and a servant girl belonging to another neighbour, named Peggy Badly. This ruck, as they say on the turf, was pretty well up to gether, but all the rest nowhere. And now, to continue the metaphor, as is the case at Goodwood or the Cur ragh, the whole interest was centred upon these four. At the commencement of the last hour the state of the case was proclaimed, as follows :—Betty Aikins, three dozen and eight cuts; Dora M`Mahon, three dozen and seven cuts; Hanna Cavanagh, three dozen and five cuts; and Peggy Bailly, three dozen and four cuts. Every in dividual had now lier own party anxious for her success, and amidst this hour of interest how many hearts beat with all the hopes and fears that are incident even to the most circumscribed contests of human life. Opposite Dora stood the youth whom we have already noticed, James Cavanagh, whose salvation seemed but a very trifling thing when compared or put into opposition with her success. Be this as it may, the moment was a most exciting one, even to those who felt no other interest than that which naturally arises from human competition. And it was unquestionably a beautiful thing to witness this particular contest between four youthful and indus trious young women. Dora's otherwise pale and placid features were now mantling, and her beautiful dark eyes flashing, under the proud and ardent spirit of ambition, for such, in fact, was the principle that now urged and animated the contest. When nearly half-an-hour had passed, Kathleen came behind her, and stooping down, whispered—' Dora, don't turn your wheel so quickly : you move the foot-board too fast—don't twist the thread too much and you'll let down more.' " Dora smiled and looked up to her with a grateful and flashing eye ; ' Thank you, Kathleen,' she replied, nod ding, ' take your advice.' The state of the contest was then proclaimed :—Betty Aikins, three dozen and ten cuts; Dora M•Mahon, three dozen and ten cuts ; Hanna Cavanagh, three dozen six cuts and a half ; Peggy Bailly, three dozen, five and a half. " On hearing this, Betty Aikins's cheek became scarlet, and as it is useless to disguise the fact, several flashing glances that partook more of a Penthesilean fire than the fearful spirit which usually characterizes the industrious pursuits of Minerva, were shot at generous Dora, who sustained her portion of the contest with singular spirit and temper. " You may as well give it up, Dora M`Mahon,' ex claimed Betty; `there never was one of your blood could open against an Aikins—the stuff is not in you to beat me.' " ' A very little time will soon tell that,' replied Dora ; but indeed, Betty, if I am doin' my best to win the kemp, I hope it's not in a bad or unfriendly spirit, but in one of fair play and good humour' " The contest now went on for about fifteen minutes, with surpassing interest and animation, at the expiration of which period, the seven o'clock bell already alluded to, rang the hour for closing their labours and determining thei victory. Thus stood their relative positions—Dora M`Mahon, four hanks and three cuts ; Betty Aikins, four hanks; Hanna Cavanagh, three hanks and nine cuts; Peggy Bailly, three hanks and eight cuts. " When this result was made known, Betty Aikin burst into a loud fit of grief, in which she sobbed as if her very heart would break, and Kathleen stooping down, congra tulated the beautiful girl upon her victory, kissing her at the same time as she spoke—an act of love and kindness in which she would have joyfully been followed by several of her male friends, if they Lad dared to take that deli cious liberty. " The moment of victory, we believe, is that which may be relied upon as the best of true greatness. Dora M`Mahon felt the pride of that moment in its fullest ex tent, but she felt it only to influence her better and nobler principles. After casting her eyes around to gather in, as it were, that approbation which is so natural, and ex changing some rapid glances with the youth we have al luded to, she went over to her defeated competitor, and taking her hand said, ' Don't cry, Betty, you have no oc casion to be ashamed ; sure, as you say, it 's the first time ; an' indeed if I feel proud now, every one knows an' says I have a right to he so ; for where was there—ay, or where is there— A SNUG IRISH FARMER. "On reaching the gate, Peety Dhu and his pretty daughter turned up towards the house we have alluded to—which was the residence of a man named Burke. On reaching it they were observed by a couple of large dogs, who, partaking of the hospitable but negligent habits of the family, first approached and looked at them for a moment, then wagged their tails by way of welcome, and immediately scampered off into the kitchen to forage for themselves. " Burke's house and farmyard, though strongly indi cative of wealth and abundance in the owner, were, not withstanding, evidently the property of a man whose mind was far back in a knowledge of agriculture, and the in dustrial pursuits that depend upon it. His haggard was slovenly in the extreme, and his farmyard exceedingly offensive to most of the senses; everything lay about in a careless and neglected manner ;—wheelbarrows without their trundles—sacks for days under the rain that fell from the eaves of the houses—other implements embedded in mud—car-houses tumbling down—the pump without a handle—the garden-gate open, and the pigs hard at work destroying the vegetables, and rooting up the garden in all directions. In fact, the very animals about the house were conscious of the character of the people, and acted accordingly. If one of the dogs, for instance, was hunted at the pigs, he ran in an apparent fury towards that which happened to be nearest him, which merely lifted its head and listened for a•time—the dog, with loud and boisterous barking, seizing its ear, led it along for three or four yards in that position, after which, upon the pig demurring to proceed any further, he very quietly dropped it and trotted in again, leaving the destructive animal to resume its depredations. "The house inside bore the same character. Winter and summer the hall-door, which had long lost the knocker, lay hospitably open. The parlour had a very equivocal appearance ; for the furniture, though originally good and of excellent materials, was stained and dinged and hacked in a manner that denoted but little sense of care or cleanliness. Many of the chairs, although not worn by age, wanted legs or backs, evidently from ill usage alone ;—the grate was without fire-irons—a maho gany bookcase that stood in a recess to the right of the fire-place, with glass doors and green silk blinds, had the glass all broken and the silk stained almost out of its original colour; whilst inside of it, instead of books, lay a heterogeneous collection of old garden seeds in brown paper—an almanac of twenty years' standing, a dry ink bottle, some broken delf, and a large collection of blue moulded shoes and boots, together with an old blister of French flies, the, lease of their farm, &c., and a great number of their receipts for rent. To crown all, the clock in the other recess stood cobwebbed about the top, deprived of the minute hand, and seeming to intimate by its silence that it had given note of time's progress to this idle and negligent family to no purpose. " On thediawing-room stairs there lay what had once been a carpet, but so inseparable had been their connexion that the stairs were now worn through it, and it required a sharp eye to distinguish such fragments of it as re mained, from the colour of the dirty boards it covered and the dust that lay on both. " On entering the kitchen, Peety and his little girl found thirteen or fourteen, in family labourers and ser vants of both sexes, seated at a long deal table, each with a large wooden noggin of buttermilk and a spoon of suitab• .• • Le dimensions, digging as if for a wager into one or and firm in consiste ncy that, as the phrase goes, a man This, however, was not the only might dance on it picture of such enjoyment that the kitchen afforded. Over beside the dresser was turned upon one side the iich the morning meal had been made. and huge pot in w equally vigorous and animated, but by no means so har monious, was kept up by two dogs and a couple of pigs, which were squabbling and whining and snarling among each other, whilst they tugged away at the scrapings or residuum that was left behind after the stirabout had been emptied out of it. The whole kitchen, in fact, had a was coy . find de. .ed with an immense quantity of pewter eve towards the chimney to perceive by the weighty masses of black hung beef and the huge sides and flitches of deep yellow bacon which lined it, that plenty and abuu- dance, even to overflowing, predominated in the family. " The " chimney bracer' projected far over the fireplace towards the floor, and under it on each side stretched two long hobs or chimney corner seats, on which nearly a dozen persons could sit of a winter evening. Mrs. Burke, a smart, good-looking little woman, though somewhat advanced in years, kept passing in a kind of perpetual motion from one part of the house to the other, with a large bunch of bright keys jingling at one side, and a huge solemn-faced man, was sitting on the hob in ques tion complacently smoking his pipe, whilst over the glowing remnants of an immense turf fire hung a singing kettle, and beside it upon three crushed coals w teapot. waitin',' as the servants were in the I aa bof , , ex pressing it, ' for the masther and misthress's breakfast.' THE SPINSTER'S. KEIMP " A kemp, or camp, is a contest of industrial skill, or a competition for priority in a display of rustic labour. Among men it is principally resorted to in planting pota toes or reaping of corn, and generally only on the day which closes the labour at each for the season ; but in the sense in which it is most usually practised and contested, it means a trial of female skill at the spinning of linen yarn. It is, indeed, a very cheerful assemblage of the fair sex ; and, although strong and desperate rivalry is the order of the day, yet it is conducted in a spirit so light hearted and amicable that we scarcely know a more lauda ble or delightful recreation in country life. Its object is always good, and its associations praiseworthy, inasmuch as they promote industry, a spirit of becoming emulation, and principles of good will and kindness to our neighbour. " When a kemp is about to be held, the matter soon becomes generally known in the neighbourhood. Some times the young women are asked, but in most instances, so eager are they to attend it that invitations are unne cessary. In the winter months, and in mountain districts, it is often as picturesque as it is pleasant. The young women usually begin to assemble about four o'clock in the morning ; and, as they always go in groups, accom panied besides by their sweethearts or some male relatives, each of the latter bearing a large torch of well dried bog fir, their voices, and songs, and loud laughter, break upon the stillness of night with a holiday feeling, made ten times more delightful by the surrounding darkness and the hour. When they have not the torches, the spinning wheels are carried by the males, amidst an agreeable din of fun, banter, repartee, and jest, such as scarcely any other rustic amusement with which we are acquainted ever occasions. On arriving at the house where the kemp is to be held, they are placed generally in the barn or some clean outhouse; but indeed the numbers are usually such as to crowd every available space that can he procured for their accommodation. From the moment they arrive the lively din is incessant. Nothing is heard but laughter, conversation, songs, and anecdotes, all rising in a loud key, among the louder humming of the spinning-wheels and the stridulous noise of the reels, as they incessantly crack the cuts in the hands of the reelers, who are per petually turning them from morning till night, in order to ascertain the quantity which every competitor has spun ; and she, of course, who has spun most wins the kemp, and is the queen for the night. . . "A kemp invariably closes with a dance—and a dance too upon an unnsualtv-,,,A......i-ra during the whole day the fair competitors are regaled from time to time with the enlivening strains of the fiddle or the bagpipes, and very often with the united melody of both together, On that morning, the dwelling-house and mostly all the out-offices of Gerald Cavanagh bore, in stir and bustle, a stronger resemblance to the activity of so many bee hives about to swarm than to anything else to which we can think of comparing them. Mirth in all its shapes, of _ - laughter, glee, and song, rang out in every direction. The booming of wheels and the creaking of reels, the loud banter, the peals of laughter, the sweet Irish songs that filled up the pauses of the louder mirth; and the strains of the fiddle that ever and anon added to the enlivening spirit of the scene, all constituted such a full and general chorus of hilarity as could seldom be witnessed. "There were many girls present who took no part in the competition, but who, as friends and acquaintances of Kathleen and Hanna, came to enjoy the festive spirit of the day. Hanna herself, however, who had earned some celebrity as a spinster, started for the honour of winning, as did Dora M`Mahon, whose small and beauti ful fingers seemed admirably adapted for this graceful and peculiarly feminine process of Minerva: Towards even ing the neighbours assembled in considerable numbers, each interested in the success of some particular favourite, wnose former feats had induced her friends to enter tain on her behalf strong, if not certain, hopes of victory. Kathleen, from a principle of generosity, patronized her young friend, Dora M`Mahon • and Shibby M`Mahon, on the other hand, took Hannah Cavanagh under her pro- tection. As the evening advanced, and and friends of the parties began to call present at the moment of victory, it would be difficult to witness any assemblage of young women placed under circumstances of such striking interest. The mirtt and song and general murmur diminished by degrees, until they altogether ceased, and nothing was to ho heard but the perpetual cracking of the reels, the hum of the rapid wheels, and the voices of the reelers, as they proclaimed the state of this enlivening poll of industry. As for the fair competitors themselves, it might have been observed that even those among them who had no, or at least but slight pretensions to beauty, became actually interesting from the excitement which prevailed. Their eyes, lit by the active spirit of rivalry within them, sparkled with pe culiar brilliancy, their cheeks became flushed or got pale as they felt themselves elevated or depressed by the pros pect or loss of victory. Nor were there wanting on 034 such a spinner as you are ? Shake hands now, an there's a kiss for you. If I won this kemp, it was won more by chance than by anything else.' on the contrary, they soothed her so much that sh _ her hand cordially to her young and interesting con they all repaired to a supper of new milk and flummery, than which there is nothing more de licious within the wide range of luxury. This agreeable Mickey M`Grory, the fiddler, was installed in his own pe culiar orchestra, consisting of an arm-chair of old Irish oak, brought out from Gerald Cavanagh's parlour. THE MAGAZINES. The Dublin University commences the year with more tiitir.nf_ve►lllahle andinti , resting matter. Amongst the reviews in the present number, a review of Owen Madden's " Revelations of Ireland," and the Rev. M. Vicary and Father Prout's works upon Rome, are very clever. " The Fatal Bride " is a well told tale ;as is the first part of " The Apothecary's Wife,"—a Russian story. The political article on Irish politics shall receive, as it deserves, a more extended notice. Blackwood's Magazine has this month two political articles—the first entitled " Thirty Years of Liberal Legis lation," and the second, " Ireland and the Ministerial Measures ;" both of which are well worthy of a careful perusal. Our old favourite is also fertile in interesting and valuable matter, amongst the best of which are the tales entitled " Evenings at Sea," and a " Night's Peril," in another style. The article on the periodical literature should be read with attention by parties on both sides of the Atlantic. • Fraser's Magazine for the present month is an excel lent number. We have extracted largely from its first article, " The Manufacturing Poor." We shall return to some articles on other subjects. A FLATTERED DESCRIPTION OP LANCASHIRE.—A noble county, believe us, kind reader, is that of Lancaster, notwithstanding its tall chimneys, and black-mouthed coal-pits, and smoke-begrimmed faces. and swarthy artizans, and covered operatives. The Southern shrinks from it as a pestilence. " Only think of Manchester, your royal highness !" was Brummell's exclamation, when his regiment was ordered thither.. Even the bishopric went begging for awhile. The Londoner would almost as soon be stuck up to the neck in a Tipperary bog, as be fixed in a manufacturing town. But, over the wide world, noint out to us a district of the same extent as Lanca shire with the same properties of greatness. In this much-maligned county there are fields as green, and landscapes as fair, as eye can rest on. Nowhere is agri culture, in its science and practice advancing more rapidly. From beneath its surface coal is dug out by brawny arms to turn the machinery of the monster factory, and to cheer the fireside of the humble cottage. From its mountain-sides the stoneis quarried in abundance. Along its picturesque valleys the dancing water-fall, is made available for turning the wheels of the mill, and the wild beauties of nature are trained to the service of the practi cal and useful. Railways intersect the county like net work, affording unusual facilities of transit. On its rivers float the argosies of a hundred lands ; and from its ports are borne its manufactures to the four corners of the earth. Its inhabitants are characterised by a sterling intellect of Saxon parentage, polished and whetted by the daily attrition of commercial dealings. Many a strong mind has struggled up from the weaver's loom, till it has enriched the literature of the day, or increased the com. forts of man by its practical inventions. A noble coun ty, indeed, with all its failings ! a county " whose mer chants are princes," whose women are witches," and whose working men are trong enough to " whip the world."--Fra.ser's Magazine. OVERCROWDING OF THE METROPOLITAN GRAVE YARDS.—Accurate returns have been made of the superfi cial extent of the parochial and some other burial grounds of the metropolis, and of the numbers of bodies annually interred in each. The annual average number of burials per acre, for the seven descriptions of burial places com prised in the intramural grounds, is stated in these official returns to be 2,271. Now, if we divide this by 7, we have the average for each, which gives 324 burials annually to the acre. From the total we may fairly extract the burial places of the Jews, and those of the Society of Friends, which are well conducted. This will give us five species of grounds, with an annual average of 2,130 burials to the acre, or an average of 426 for each. The proper number, you will remember, is 136 to the acre; in Germany, the average is only 110 burials per acre per annum. Thus, at the first glance, it is evident that our parish grave-yards are made to receive every year three times as many bodies as they ought, and four times as many as are permitted by the laws of well-regulated continental states. The in evitable crowding of our churchyards may be illustrated in anyther way. The annual mortality of the metropolis, at a low computation, is 50,000. Now, supposing the bu rials to be renewed every ten years (and this is the shortest period that should be allowed for the decomposition of the human body), 444 acres would be required, whereas we have only 209. But this is not all. There are 182 paro chial graveyards in London. Of these, only 48 are con fined within the proper limit of 136 burials to the acre ; the rest exhibit various degrees of saturation, from 200 up to 3000 per acre annually. This is scarcely credible, but official returns confirm the truth of what I assert. In very many the annual average per acre exceeds 1000.— From .Mr. G. A. Walker's Fourth Lecture on Metro politan Graveyards. ACLERICAL DOCTOR—It would surprise many of our fair readers were we to relate with what unreserved freedom the clergyman is admitted into the secrets of all family ailments. The poor seem to think he is entitled to the full privilege of the doctor. We ourselves have made a point of declining—with many grateful acknowledgements —all the delicate investigations which old women would have pressed upon us. From the non-observance of this rule, a clerical friend of ours, not long ago, was placed in a singular predicament. We heard the tale from his own mouth, and can vouch for its truth. He has a country living—surrounded, however, by manufacturing towns, and inhabited chiefly by hand-loom weavers. He acts not only as their spiritual physician, but takes equal pride in administering to the relief of their bodily ailments. He is consulted by the old women far and wide, and is considered unrivalled in his knowledge of the Pharma copecia. Being an old soldier—a Waterloo officer—it is supposed that he picked up his skill somewhere abroad, or on the field of battle. Some go so far as to say that on one occasion he was shut up four-and-twenty hours with an Egyptian necromancer. O ne n i g ht l as t winter he was retiring to rest about eleven o'clock : his house was quiet, and his household was in bed ; when he was startled by a thundering knock at the door. " Holloa ! who's thee ?" he inquired from his bedroom window. " James Jack son," was the laconic answer. " Mother's badly." " Does your motherwant meto-night ?" " Ay, directly !" was the stubborn reply. Our friend was decidedly sulky as he contrasted the warmth of his bed with the • cold without but., being too good a disciplinarian to break ecclesiastical canons, he re-adjusted his coat and waist coat, muffled up his throat, threw on his veteran roque laure, and started off with his parishioner —a lubberly lad of nineteen. It was a frosty, moonlight night; on the two trudged over the crisp snow ; when, after walking about half a mile, our friend's temper began to cool by degrees ; and, turning round to his companion, he said, in his usual kind tone,—" Well, and is your mother very poorly ?" "Ay, hoo's (she's) vara badly at present.' " But she is likely to get better, I hope ?" " Ay, ay, hoo'll mend, happen (nerhans). after bit_"_f.l-WhAt! the matter with her, do you know ?' "0, ay, I know. Hoo's labboring (in labour).' " Labboring ! labboring !" shrieked our friend, turning round fiercely upon his fellow traveller. " What do you mean by coming for me ? Labboring ; go for Dr. Potts this instant. Labboring ! Am I a man-midwife, think you ?" " Well, well," was the imperturable reply, " Folks says ye're vara skilfu' in chymistering, and"—scratching his head, and looking his pastor imploringly in the face—" a labbor's ten and six pence."—Fraser's Magazine. THE REVENUE An Abstract of the Net Produce of the Revenue of Great Britain, in the Years and Quarters ended the sth of Jan., 1847 an, I 1848, showing the Increase or Decrease thereof EARS ENDED JANUARY 5 1848, THE NATIONAL DEFENCES. The Morning Chronicle of Tuesday, publishes the let. ter of the Duke of Wellington, on the national defences, respecting which so much has been said of late. It was; dated "Strathfieldsaye, 9th Jan. 1847," and is addressed to 1 * Maj.-Gen. Sir Jr. J. Burgoyne, K.C.8., &c."—" My Dear General.—Some days have elapsed, indeed a fort night since has, since I received your note, with a copy of your observations on the possible results of a war with France, under our present system of military preparation. You are aware that I have for years been sensible of the alteration produced in maritime warfare and operations, by the application of steam to the propelling of ships at sea. This discovery immediately exposed all parts of the coasts of these islands, which a vessel could approach at all times of tide and in all seasons, by vessels so propelled, from all quarters. We are in fact assailable, and at least, liable to insult, and to have contributions levied upon us on all parts of our coast ;. that is, the coast of these islands, including the Channel Islands, which to this time, from the period of the Norman conquest, have never been successfully invaded. " I have in vain endeavoured' to awaken the attention of different administrations to this state of things, as well known to our neighbours (rivals in power, at least former adversaries and enemies) as it is to ourselves. " I hope that your paper may be attended with more success than my representations have been. "l have above, in few words, represented our danger. We have no defence, or hope of defence, excepting in our fleet. " We ought to be with garrisons as follows at the mo ment war is declared : Channel Islands (besides the militia of each well organised, trained, and disciplined) 10,000 men.- Plymouth Milford Haven 5,000 men. Cork Portsmouth Dover . . 10,000 men., Sheerness, Chatham, and the Thames lO,OOO men.. " I suppose that one-half of the whole regular force of the country would be stationed in Ireland, which half would give the garrison for Cork. The remainder must, be supplied from the half of the whole force at home sta tioned in Great Britain. " The whole force stationed at home in Great Britain and Ireland would not afford a sufficient number of men for the mere defence and occupation, on the breaking out of war, of the works constructed for the defence of the dock-yards and naval arsenals, without leaving a single man disposable. " The measure upon which I have earnestly entreated different administrations to decide, which is constitu tional, and has been invariably adopted in time of peace for the last eighty years, is to raise, embody, organise, and discipline the militia of the same numbers for each of the three kingdoms united as during the late war. This would give a mass of organised force amounting to about 150,000 men, which we might immediately set to work to discipline. This alone would enable us to establish the strength of our army. This, with an augmentation of the force of the regular army, which would not cost £400,000, would put the country on its legs in respect to , personal force, and I would engage for its defence, old as I am. " But as we stand now, and if it be true that the exer tions of the fleet alone are not sufficient to provide for our defe..ce, we are not safe for a week after the declara tion of war " I am accustomed to the consideration of these ques tions, and have examined and reconnoitred, over and over again, the whole coast from the North Foreland, by Dover, Folkstone, Beachy Head, Brighton, Arundel, to Selsey Bill, near Portsmouth, and I say that, excepting immediately under the fire of Dover Castle, there is not a spot on the coast on which infantry might not be thrown on shore, at any' ime of tide, with any wind, and in any weather, and from which such body of infantry, s o th rown on shore, would not find, within the distance of five miles, a road into the interior of the country, through the cliffs, practicable for the march of a body of troops. " That in that space of coast (that is between the North Foreland and Selsey Bill), there are not less than seven small harbours or mouths of rivers, each without defence, of which an enemy, haviiig landed infantry on t h e coast, might take possession, and therein land his c ava l r y and artillery of all calibre, and estahhsh himself and his communication with France. " The nearest part of the coast to the metropolis is un-' doubtedly the coast of Sussex, from the east and west side of Beachy Head and Selsey Bill. There are not less than twelve great roads leading from Brighton upon Lon don, and the French army must' be much altered indeed, since the time at which I was better acquainted with it, if there are not now belonging to it forty chefs d'etat, (Major-Generals), capable of sitting down and ordering the march to the coast of 40,000 men, their embarkation, with their horses and artillery, at the several French ports on the coast ;. their disembarkation at named points on the English' coast, that of the artillery and cavalry in named ports or mouths of rivers, and the assembly at named points of the several columns ; and the march of eaoh of these from stage to stage to London. " Let any man examine our maps and road books, con sider of the matter, and judge for himself. " France having been in possession of nearly every ca pital in Europe, and having levied contributions in each, and having had in its possession, or under its influence, the whole of Italy, Germany, and Poland, is reduced to its territorial limits as they stood in 1792. we composing m. d s i F o L s T i icl o cg s tu t we should ak d , l c o etn w d i g nr cl ge „ t t f d i iis l a .c u r a p tch -i islandsuo ' 1 l y dp wo the Channel Islands, on which an invader had never established himself since the period of the Norman Conquest ? " I am bordering upon seventy-seven years of age passed VARIETIES It has been calculated that a pair of sparrows, while rearing their young, destroy on an average 5363 cater pillars every week. If you would keep your hands from chapping during the winter, wash them as often as you please, but rub them " bright dry" each time : don't leave a particle of moist ure for the cold air to act upon. A\NGER.—Passion is the drunkenness of the mind ; and therefore, in its present influence, not controllable by reason ; forasmuch as the proper effect of it is, for the time, to supersede the operations of reason.—Poynd er . The verb " to build" has been much degraded among us, and~has lost its full signification. "Our English word, to build," says Horne Tooke, " is the Anglo-Saxon byldan, to confirm, to establish, to make firm and sure and fast, to consolidate, to strengthen ; and is applicable to all other things as well as dwelling places." In Ger many the word retains its full meaning.—The Builder. During the alarm caused by a threatened invasion of this country by the French, in 1798, the following singular an nouncement appeared in the public papers : The Bishop of Winchester has sanctioned the whole of the clergy of Hampshire, and especially of the Isle of Wight, to take up arms in the present crisis, and also to do whatever they m ay think best for the service of their country." LISTON AS AN OPERATOR.—It iS related of him, that on the eve of performing a dangerous operation, Liston would mount his horse, and gallop miles over the country, not for amusement or recreation, but deeply pondering on the case at issue, and steeling himself with that determi nation which was requisite for success. Alone, and almost like a Mazeppa, but absorbed in the one idea and the apa proaching struggle, he has (as we have heard from his owl!' lips) rushed over the Corstorphine Hills, near Edinburgh, or Hampstead Heath, in the vicinity of London, and re turned in a condition, mental and physical, to undertake (under the most favourable auspices) the onerous and life or-death task before him.—Literary Gazette. A COMPLAISANT HUSBAND.—In the neighbourhood of Rochdale, it happened that a big, hulking collier s six feet two in his stockings, had - an extremely diminutive wife. But, what was more singular, it was currently reported that the said little woman, being, in country dialect, a spreet, (sprite) was in the habit of thrashing her husband. " John," said his master to him one day, " they really say that your wife beats you. Is it true ?" "Yoy," drawled John, with most provoking coolness. " Yoy," responded the master, with indignation. "What do you mean, you lout ? A great thumping fellow like you, as strong as a steam-engine or an elephant, to let a little woman like your wife thrash you! What a blockhead you must be !" " Whoy, whoy," was the patient reply, "it ple-ases hor, an' it does me no hort !"—Fraser' Magazine. THE DRESS OF ENGLISH LEPERS IN THE 14TH CEN TCRY.^" The brothers [of the leper-house of St. Julian, near St. Albans] are to have a tunic and upper tunic of russet, with a hood cut from the same, so that the sleeves of the tunic be closed as far as the hand, but not laced with knots or thread after the secular fashion. They are to wear the upper tunic closed down to the ancles, and a close cape of black cloth, of the same length with the hood, as they have been accustomed of old." A particu lar form of shoe was also ordered, and if the order was disobeyed, the culprit was " condemned to walk daily barefooted until the master, considering his humanity, said to him—enough."---Dr. J. Y. Lawson on Leprosy and Leper Hospitals in Scotland and Ireland. THE LANCASHIRE DIALECT : PURE SAXON.-011r description of the manufacturing poor would be im perfect, without some reference to the peculiarities of their dialect. Their vocabulary is very circumscribed. It contains a strong dash of Faxon, with a considerable mixture of those non-descript words which are traceable to no root. It is, however, full of energy and expression. When some one more aspiring among them ventures upon classical ground, there is great danger of a fall. It is not unusual for us to be called suddenly to an old woman grievously ill with " spavirT" (spasms) in the stomach, or o p na p ( a i l n a i a o m n '' m ' a (p ti a o l n p ) i tt f i otn4 inside:he h e ‘ ii , r H t , or w cjoannfl9ar inquired of;1;;;Cio-us old lady the oth; i . day, •` How is your daughter ? What did the doctor say of her com plaint?" Why, sir," she answered, "he said, sir, she was in a very pthysical (critical) way, indeed, sir—very ptnysical." It is well, therefore, to use much plainness of speech in your intercourse with the poor. Not, per haps, that this, in many cases, is at all required; but In some you can only make yourself intelligible by deScend ing to thvir level.—Fraser's Magazine, Customs Excise.. 1 16,301,865 12,521,250 .6,931,414 4,272,408 5,395,391 816,000 120,000 317,090 667,644 295,567 790,5Q4 Stamps Property Tax Post OfEce.. Crown Lands. Miscellaneous China Money.. Imprest & other Moneys .... Repayments of Advances. .. 192,547 1,070,411 Total 1nc0me*.150,615,020 I Deduc QUARTERS ENr I 1847 i ~ i Customs 4,514,721 3,608,155 1,740,687 Taxes . Property Tax 450,219 Post Office 203,000 Crown Lands 3OOOO Miscellaneous China Money Imprest &other Moneys Repayments of Advances. 302,449 Excise: Stamps Total 1ftc0me*.112,820,671 Deduct 11,665,358 43,000 132,164 667,644 Increase 506,365 402,859 361,272 175,832 17,911 I 1,270 I 228,401 32,232 11,187,545 32,232 Decrease on the Quarter.. £1,155,317 The revenue for the year shows a deficiency of £2,217,454 in comparison of the preceding. This amount is partially accounted for by the facts, that in 1846 a sum of £667,644 was brought to the credit of the account as Chinese ran som, which, however, was the last payment ; and that, under the head of the repayment of advances, the public accounts were credited during the former year with a sum of £1,070,411, while under the same head, during the last year, the amount is reduced to £564,046. Those items, no doubt, account for about one-half of the existing de ficiency of the year, but they do not reduce it. And the work of the Chancellor of the Exchequer is just as diffi cult as if it had originated from some more regular causes, though it is assuredly gratifying and encouraging to find that, amidst the great calamities under which the revenue country has leas n e been during the past year,_ the collapsed ring than this account Judi, cates. The falling off in the customs returns is less than might have been expected . on the whole year ; only £295,567. m l . a e bou This is about one-sixtieth of the total receipts from cus toms in the year 1846. whereas the decrease in the excise is little less than one-sixteenth of the total receipts from that source in the same year. In one respect there is a pretty exact parity in the returns of the customs and ex cise. In both, the returns for the two first quarters of the year 1847 are in excess of the returns for the corresponding quarters of 1846; in both, the decrease in the third quar ter of 1847, as compared with the corresponding quarte of the preceding year is greater than that in the last ter. The variation in the returns of 1846 from those of 1845 was scarcely perceptible. This indicates that, as was to be expected, the full, pressure of our embarrassments has only come to be felt considerably later than their ex istence was known or apprehended ; and (what is more consoling) that th'j slight revival of the last quarter gives room to hope thr,t the worst hour is passed. The two mein suggestions of these returns we are anxious to iiirpress deeply on the minds of our reader?. Their gener a l aspect indicates undiminished elasticity in the national resources, and an apparent abatement of the pressure.. The great reduction in the excise receipts for the twr, last quarters, and in the stamps, indicates dion nishelA activity in some employments, and great privation anIV ng the less wealthy classes, extending upwards consi deably beyond the mere worlcing classes. 1848. I Incr. I Deer 18,015,298 11,730,746 6,959,546 4.334,561 5,450,801 864,000 77,000 184,926 28,132 62,153 55,410 48,000 24,095 216,640 564,046 48,397,566 217,790 2,435,244 ;t Increase i 217,790 e !ase on the Year .. £2,217,454 DED JANLTARY 5 Incr. I Decr 4,111,862 •• • • 3,246,883 .• • • 1,564,855 •• • • 1,914,783 4,884 462,567 12,348 208,000 5,000 40,000 10,000 11,746 I - 1 74,048 in honour " I hope that the Almighty may protect me from being the witness of the tragedy which I cannot persuade my contemporaries to take measures to avert.—Believe me, ever yours sincerely, " WILLLINGTON." This document, if it does nothing else, will relieve the fears of those who have been frightened from their pro priety by the cont ra di c t or y and exaggerated views said to have been put forth by the illustrious Duke. The orga nization of the militia, and a small augmentation of the regular army, are the s ummum bonum of his grace's sug gestions. Beyond th is he doe s not venture ; and all the columns written abou t c o ast fortifications, &c., &c., seem to cn h t a c v m e psoprrnng f r om the vivid i mag i nat i ons o f our terrifie d ries. As the Tim es we ll o b serves , " un l es s the French can reasonably expect to elude our cruisers in the Channel , to l and unhurt on our coasts, to march un impeded to London, to exact and pocket a fitting ransom, to find again the vessels which brought them, and to re cross the seas with their baggage and booty, they wilt probably resolv e upon stay i ng a t h ome ." A n d no d ou bt they will stay at home. ROYAL AMPHITHEATRE, The Olympic Games, as instituted by the Greeks, ori ginating in their fine perception of all that was beautiful in poetry, painting, sculpture, and music, together with their love of beautiful form, became a principle of their religion, and the result was their being enabled to,produce such extraordinary efforts in the various branches of the Their fine climate also tended to the encou ragement of these pursuits, and gave them the means to enjoy out-door pastimes. Whilst the more savage and bloody amusements of the Romans outrage and shock our feelings of humanity, we find the Greeks occupying them selves by the innocent and delightful objects sought after in their Olympic Games. They contended for glory by the peaceful arts, and chariot-racing, running, wrestling, throwing the discus, gymnastics, acts of strength and feats of agility, and other amusements of the kind, were among the recreations of the people; and if they were compelled, by less peacefully disposed neighbours, to war in defence, their peace was celebrated by these games, which contributed to domestic happiness and joy. Their philosophers and other distinguished men, too, did not think it beneath their dignity and elevation of mind to enter into these enjoyments, knowing that they had for their object the attenuation of the human form, producing health and elasticity of the mind. The human figure, by these opportunities, attained its highest point of beauty—. each individual muscle was brought into action ; the limbs were by this means fully developed, producing per fect symmetry of the ports; jtelgea wee. mar -.-" 0 -1 prizes given for the most perfect forms, both male and fine arts truly excellent French company female. of equestrians These reflections have been elicited by witnessing the e m here,ain now at out Amphitheatre, and we hope to show to our readers that escape the casual or general observer,' they behold in them the spirit of the Olympic Games of gratification of those who witness the Greece revived to us in these our modern days, and trust that we shall be able to point out those points of excel _he fine forms produced by the nature of. andpleenref o e s which rom a nincreasece w s . would u tp l h d e their exercises from their early youth, (both male a nd: female equestrians,) and the amazing feats performed by them are truly wonderful, and the result must, we con ceive, be satisfactory to M. Dejean, who brought thiS As we were one of the early visitors to witnessF could r e nc l I n O h : i ms long effortsPan Y r . felt ou tconvinced meeting withthat i such ta m t a l l e r n e t . ward ; and we find that our views of its superior excel wwietli lence meet with overflowing houses nightly. We hope that this, his first visit across our channel, is °al/ one of a series to this town. For ourselves, we tender to him our best thanks for his enterprise and the great treat afforded in witnessing the performances. It is also not the least gratifying part of our task to record of this gentleman, that the perfect air of respectability that per vades his entire establishment and troop in dress anti manner, leaves nothing to be desired for the most fastidi ous taste. All is elegant and unique in its way. The entire costumes and paraphernalia are given strict to the truth, and with rigid exactness which is so strongly cha racteristic of our neighbours the French. And to crow's the charm, a total absence of all vulgarity which is con , nected with our early associations of circus performances , The interior has been converted, with much skill and taste, into a perfect Amphitheatre, and the stage done away with, the entire performance takes place in the arena, which was the character' of the ancient places of amiusv ment from which the theatre takes its name. We have a vivid recollection of Ducrow's performance within these same walls, and the dramatic power of feeling which he threw into all his parts must be in the remeni' brance of many of our readers. There was genius in aP he did, and it is no more than a common act of justice t 0 his memory to state, without any feelinc , of disparage' ment, that although there is no one member of this cora' pany who can be said to be his superior, or equal ; yet, e 4 a whole, the troop of M. Dejean stands unrivalled i ll power, excellence, variety, and the indescribable elegan cu . of the entire 4111lngentent•-11. M. Tria 4th Oc Glen OctoLl Elizi 3rd Nc Eux; Jam, 4th No Cors Nov. raiso. E. B Liverp yesten vere ga shore. Hambi cargo t AAR from 1 month ARRI Green( Hamill St. Ge( SAIL Mati Thomp Geor this po Glasl Riva Men 28th ul Gips Altre Looc neuse -clown i kept 1)1 vented Orisi Lands cutta. Mar Lad Rich from ( Ann, Weliin Earl Trieste Johr 21st I) Cone Jane vannat PWL ARAI labar a —Rave —J. J. from I Wi'Han York in spec' Olive Assoc Chu& Athol Syra, Osma ceeded Vn. 1 Tort at Janet Hann Una, &vitt] Elish, having The'( the Pen instant, cently t Cardiff i lat. 50, DEAL was pas long. 22 PORT from DE is drifti] WEXI other p: been wa MoN 7 port on sea, and e dra; ARRI' fiance, York ; SAIL; Thong, Hodson Gouldii; timore— Thain ; Chase, Chariest Genoa Julius C P. Dea Not. 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